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In hindsight, volunteering at a hospital must’ve been Jayce’s first mistake. He stands in the lobby's centre, people moving to and fro around him. It makes him feel like a small fish dropped into a large pond. This is a place where people suffer. Either suffer to heal or suffer to not matter in the end. Is this where he wants to spend so much of his time?
Maybe other places would be better… or maybe… he really was just psyching himself out. Jayce admonishes himself for getting so into his head and for making this whole ordeal all about him. It isn’t, he thinks. It isn’t. This is what he wants—he knows it.
Jayce finally strides to the front counter where a lady dressed in white sits, clicking away at the monitor in front of her. With each step, his boots click against the floor, but it’s inaudible. All he can hear is the commotion around him. Small fish. Large pond.
“Hello?” Jayce first says, but he can hear his voice get drowned out. The receptionist doesn’t raise her gaze, but he assumes she probably just couldn’t hear him over the rest of the noise. He tries it one more time, a bit louder. “Hello? ”
The receptionist looks up at him, slightly disgruntled. “Oh, hello. Can I help you?”
“Hi there,” Jayce says, putting on the charm, even fiddling with one of the drawstrings of his sweater with his left finger. “I was just wondering if you had any volunteer opportunities here. I was hoping to—“
“Can I help you?” Her glasses fall to the lowest part of her nose, giving him a stare. Was she purposefully ignoring him or was she just the littlest bit deaf?
Jayce lets out a frustrated sigh, the facade dropping. “I was hoping I could—“
This time, she doesn’t interrupt him. Jayce gets interrupted by something else entirely. A shout from behind him cuts through his thoughts. At a hearty yell, “WATCH OUT!”
Jayce wishes he did. Or maybe, he wishes he had the chance. Something, full force, slams into his forehead, sending him backwards. Not just backwards, but slamming him down to his back. He’s just grateful he didn’t hit his head. But seriously, what the hell?
His vision is blurry for a moment as his mind spins, trying to make sense of what just happened. A figure walks, or rather creeps, into his vision. It’s a man, pale as a ghost with waves of dark hair on his head. “I did tell you to watch out,” he says. There’s an accent in his voice, one he cannot discern.
“That—that was you?” Jayce asks, still on the floor with some more people crowding around. A man on the floor is definitely a concerning sight. He brings a hand to his forehead, feeling for any pain.
“Well, not me.” He bends over and picks up an object next to Jayce. “This.” It looks something akin to a toy airplane. “And please, do get up. People will stare.”
Jayce gradually gets up to his feet but is not entirely enthused. “Why the hell are you flying a toy airplane in here? It slammed me right in the face!”
The man stares at him like Jayce was in the wrong for being in the way, with his jaw dropped in exasperation. “Toy airplane?” He says it in a half-whisper. “This is an invention!”
“Your invention gave me a bruise,” Jayce mutters. “Hurt a hell of a lot too.”
The man’s gaze is now square on his invention, disregarding Jayce. “You’re a large man, you’ll get over it.” He turns to leave. “Well… goodbye.”
And compared to him, Jayce is large. He leans on the muscular side, with color painted on his skin. The man who slammed him in the face with his ‘invention’ is completely different. If he wasn’t wearing a blue hospital gown, he could’ve been mistaken as a ghost—slender and very, very pale. He has a lack of a presence, with only a skinny cane grounding him.
“You’re a patient here?” Jayce asks. The words come out before his mind catches up and he regrets it quickly. He winces as the man lifts his eyes to glare at him.
“Do you think I wear hospital gowns in the pursuit of fashion?” He sighs. “You should get your head checked out, I may have dislodged something in there.”
“I’m sorry, okay? Let’s start over. I’m Jayce.”
“It’s bold of you to assume we will interact again after this.”
“How long have you been working on that?” Jayce points to the invention.
“Long enough.”
“How did you make it?”
“Why do you care?”
“If it isn’t obvious, I’m curious. I don’t even know where you’d get the materials here!”
“I make do with what I have,” he says bitterly. “I used to have more before I came here.”
Jayce feels curiosity build inside him. “Would you mind if we…”
A beat passes.
“…grabbed a bite to eat at the food court? I’d love to pick your mind. You seem very intelligent.”
“Is that so?” He gives Jayce a look, but he couldn’t discern it.
“This type of stuff is what I’m passionate about,” Jayce replies. A drop of sadness rests inside him. This type of stuff. The hospital is all alright, but this is different. “And I’ll pay for your food, promise!”
He turns around and sighs, walking away, invention in one hand, cane clicking against the floor in the other. He mutters, “That’s to be expected. I know the way.”
Jayce lets out a small gasp and quickly hurries to get beside the man, ditching the lady at the desk. His priorities have now shifted, faster than he even realizes. He may look frail but he walks with purpose. “You made it yourself?”
He doesn’t look at him, keeping his eyes forward. “Do you always ask so many questions?”
“I’m curious.” A quietness falls between them as they walk past doctors and patients in the hallway. “I don't even know your name.”
He clicks his tongue. “Viktor.”
“Viktor,” Jayce says to himself, but it doesn’t sound the same without the accent. “That’s a lovely name.” He prefers it when Viktor says it. His accent is charming.
“Thank you,” Viktor says curtly, coming off as more of a formality.
“What’s your accent?”
“Save the questions for once we get to the food court, please.” He shakes his head. “And you asked to discuss the invention and the science behind it, not me.”
“Would it be bad if I was curious about you, Viktor?”
“Yes. It would be. And we’re here.”
Jayce opens the door to the food court for Viktor, who enters silently into the bustling crowds of people, bar the click of his cane. He is right behind him.
Viktor sits for only a while before Jayce returns to their table. He raises an eyebrow at the food on the trays. “You didn’t get me hospital food, did you?”
Jayce stops where he is and sheepishly looks down at both trays. At the very least, he got them both the same thing. Still, with the unappetizing shade of gray and odd texture, it's something neither of them seems happy to eat. “I… may have.” His voice drops low in disappointment at the end of it. “I should’ve assumed, sorry.”
“You should’ve just used common sense, Jayce.” Viktor pinches the bridge of his nose. “Can you just grab me some hot soup, please? At this point, any flavor will do.”
Jayce flashes a smile, happy to fix his mistake. “Got any favorites?”
Viktor is unimpressed. “Just chicken noodle.”
With a nod, Jayce rushes off like a puppy looking for a bone. Viktor sits there for a while longer, staring intently at his invention. Not an airplane. The corners of his lips lift slightly. An invention! And for some reason, this stranger to him seems to care about it. That in itself is a rarity.
Viktor’s fingers trail the outline of his cane. It's old and rickety, and truth be told, he should have probably gotten a new one a fair while ago. But it doesn’t matter to him. He finds no logic in replacing things that will no longer have use to him. It’s all a waste.
He flinches when Jayce puts down the new trays in front of him. The food looks much better this time. The steaming chicken noodle soup has some crispy crackers on the side. It's still a bit on the basic side, but Viktor thinks he'll enjoy it nonetheless. “Much better.”
“I’m sorry again for before, it was stupid of me.”
He sighs. “You’re paying, so I suppose I must forgive you.”
“You don’t have to do anything,” Jayce replies low. “If I’m annoying you, I’ll go. Just say the word.”
“And waste the food you bought me?” Viktor says. “I wouldn’t allow it.”
Jayce gives a grin similar to the one he gave the receptionist; this time, it was genuine. “That’s a relief.” He dips his spoon into his bowl. “Is the staff here cool with you doing all of your science?”
He stares deadpan. “What do you mean?”
“You had an airpl…”
Viktor stares at Jayce with an arched brow, clearly anticipating.
“...invention flying through the lobby! I can tell you’re smart Viktor, don’t play dumb.’
“Well, I’ve managed to avoid them for this long. Testing fate, I suppose?”
Jayce’s bottom lip gives out a little bit. “I don’t want them to take it from you, though. You put a lot of passion into that invention, right?”
He swallows before speaking. “Well, that is why I have a cane.”
“A cane is supposed to help you walk.”
“You are a very redundant speaker,” Viktor says. First, Jayce asks the person in a hospital gown in a hospital, if they are a patient. Then, he gets that same person the most bland food the hospital offers. And to top it all off, he tells that same person, who has a cane, that canes are supposed to help them walk. “It was supposed to be a joke…”
To Viktor, Jayce appears to be socially unaware at times, but he still finds him a bit charming. He may have messed up over and over, but he keeps trying to make it up to Viktor. So to him, at the very least, he tries. And for the first time, someone cares about the same thing he does. This is all new to him.
“So what was the punchline? Now you have to tell me!” Jayce says amusingly.
He shakes his head. “Well, now the moment has passed!”
“Viktor, you don’t seem like the type to crack jokes often, no offence.”
“What?” Viktor gasps. “I can be humorous!”
“Then let me judge your punchline!”
“What happened to picking my mind?”
Jayce dips a cracker in his soup. “In a way, this is, right?”
Viktor murmurs, “The moment has—”
“Tell me."
Although it sounds a bit lame now, Viktor says it with a slight flush of embarrassment on his cheeks. “I was trying to imply that if worse came to worse, I would just…” he sighs, “...beat them with my cane.”
“Okay,” Jayce says, “maybe you were right. The moment has passed.”
“Wha— you asked!”
“I’m joking, Viktor!” He is half laughing and half talking. “It was truly hilarious."
Viktor looks more than a bit embarrassed. He appreciates it, but he doesn’t need the false flattery. “Let’s just move on…”
“We can work on your punchlines another day, okay?” Jayce offers.
“Another day?” Viktor says it mainly to himself, not Jayce. His eyes look across at him, who is looking at him in return. The words slip out. “Is that an offer or a joke?”
“Why would I joke?” Jayce points to the invention with his spoon. “I have a feeling there’s plenty more where that came from. And honestly, I’d love to see it all. This stuff is right up my alley; science, helping heal others… I can't get enough of it.”
Viktor’s face lightens. It was as if Jayce peered into his soul and described what he saw. Finally, someone on his wavelength! Someone who seems to have similar goals as him. Someone who might care genuinely. The corners of his mouth lift. “I will lead you to my room afterwards, then.”
Jayce smiles warmly at Viktor. It sends a chill down the latter’s spine. It’s genuine, much too genuine and he is unnerved by it. “Thanks, V.”
Viktor’s body stills at the nickname. His face tilts down towards the table, but his eyes are upwards at Jayce. His eyes narrow. “You’re so…”
Jayce looks at him with a mouthful of soup, cheeks puffed out. He makes a curious sound, head tilted in curiosity. In a way, he asked, you’re so what?
He sighs. “Never mind. You know why I’m here, but why are you?”
Viktor is grateful that Jayce allows him to change the subject. “Well, the original plan was to volunteer here for the experience, certification, and whatnot.”
“Is that still your plan?”
“Well, it would’ve been if someone didn’t send their invention crashing into my forehead.”
Viktor frowns. “I apologize for getting in the way, it wasn’t my intention.”
“Don’t even apologize,” Jayce shakes his head.
“Why shouldn’t I?”
“I think I’ve found something better.”
Viktor is utterly flabbergasted when Jayce dumps the contents of his bag on his hospital bed.
“You did not.”
Jayce winks at him. “I did! Don’t you love it?”
“I do… but I don’t want you to get in trouble, Jayce.”
“Even if I did, I would have just tried again. And says you.”
His face is dusted with pink and mutters, “I do love it. Really.”
Jayce gives a toothy grin. “Then are you just going to stand there? I didn’t bring all of this for you to just not do anything with it!”
“Alright, alright,” Viktor smirks as he goes towards his bed. “You are insufferable.”
“You like that about me, V.”
Viktor intentionally ignores him, which makes the other grin even more. He can feel Jayce’s eyes on him, taking in every slightest moment, expression, and anything he does. If it was anyone else, he’d be uncomfortable, on edge, even. But it's Jayce, so if anything, he feels the opposite. He feels warmness in his heart as he starts to peruse the various scraps and metal screws on his bead. It was a landmine of materials and each bit was spotless.
Had Jayce actually spent the time to clean them all as well? All the pieces he brought shine under the sunlight from the window. Viktor’s hospital room is small, but it’s his. The room’s been his for longer than he remembers. His apartment is fuzzy in his mind, a hazy tableau. A heaviness grows in his gut. It's a feeling of nostalgia.
“Do you think you could use any of them for a future invention?” Jayce asks, snapping him out of it.
Viktor nods, still looking through. “These are all amazing, Jayce. I will have to keep them in a place where the staff won’t find them.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Jayce says, swinging the bag he carried them back and forth. “I’ll just bring them back and forth, easy.”
He scowls. “You don’t have to treat me so kindly.”
“I’m treating you how I want to treat you, V.”
“Jayce, you are odd,” Viktor says. “Peculiar, even.”
“And you aren’t?”
Well, okay. Viktor stills for a moment before he can’t help but smile. “I guess we both are. We haven’t even exchanged phone numbers yet. How will I know when you’re coming by next?”
Jayce’s mouth opens wide in disbelief, his tanned skin rosey. “Are you asking what I think you are?”
“I am asking for your phone number, Jayce.”
“And?”
Viktor shrugs, face blank. “And I would appreciate it if you gave it to me before I’m no longer around to use it.”
Jayce’s mouth moves to say something, but he struggles. “Wha– Viktor! ” He gives him a light slap on the shoulder, unhappy. “That’s not funny.”
“What happened to V?” He starts to chuckle, which makes Jayce’s brows furrow. “If you keep hitting me, you’ll rush the process… Jayce, would you do that to your friend?”
His arms are crossed, still not finding any humor in this. “V.”
“I’m allowed to make jokes about my condition.”
“Well, I don’t like it,” Jayce murmurs. “Don’t joke about that. Not with me.” He places a hand on Viktor’s shoulder. The sunlight creates a shadow that goes across his chest. “Please.”
He honestly feels guilty as Jayce looks at him with that look again, but he compromises. “I’ll do it less, that’s the best I can do.”
“Thank you, V.” Jayce is smiling again, which brings a smile to Viktor’s face. “Really.”
He brings his hand up and places it on top of Jayce’s. “Please. Your number. Before I make another joke.”
Jayce digs in his pocket for his phone and they finally exchange phone numbers. His eyes twinkle as he sends Viktor a ‘Hey V! :) ’ as a test run. Viktor notices and can’t tell if it's the sunlight or honest joy. Still, he is also joyful for the first time in much too long. After all, he now has a friend.
Viktor has a friend that wants to text him. Uneasiness festers in his chest, but he pushes it down. He is happy right now and there is someone who feels the same when around him. He won’t ruin this for himself. Jayce pulls him into a hug when he finally has to leave. It goes for a beat longer than they both expect, but it doesn’t bother them. The warmth is comforting, distracting them from the thinness of the inventor’s fingers and the gauntness of his jaw.
(It wasn’t until then that Jayce realizes how bony Viktor is.)
Later that day, as an amber twilight pours through the window, Viktor tinkers with the few pieces he chooses to keep with him until Jayce visits again. Another new project to keep him busy.
His phone beeps from his bedside drawer. He grabs it and checks. He doesn’t notice when he starts smiling at the mere sight of Jayce’s name in his notifications.
Jayce: Just made it home in one piece! No airplanes in sight too, what a dream.
Viktor: INVENTION. Jayce, pls.
Jayce: Oh, my mistake. :P
Viktor: Do you enjoy tormenting me?
Jayce: Do you enjoy me enjoying tormenting u? :0
Viktor: You’re lucky I like you. I would’ve sent 25 airplanes for that pretty head of yours if I didn’t.
Jayce: 0_0 Pretty??
Viktor: My project is calling me. TTYL.
Jayce: Oooooh what is it?
Viktor: It’s a surprise.
Jayce: 4 ME?
Viktor: For you. I will text you later.
Jayce: U will text my pretty head later???
Viktor: How do I manage to put up with you…
Jayce: Because u like me! Liiiiiike me!
Viktor: GOODBYE. TTYL.
Jayce: TTYL. Don’t worry, ur head is pretty too. :)
It’s a tin Viktor’s making. He thinks it’s coming along quite nicely.
It’s about a week later when Jayce has the biggest scare of his life.
That day, they had plans to meet for lunch. They always stuck to the food court, since Viktor wasn’t cleared to leave for any reason. He would never be cleared. This was it for him, and they knew that. So the two of them exhaust every item on the menu of the hospital’s food court like they’re connoisseurs.
Well, Jayce does. Viktor is a creature of habit, so he’d rather go through every single soup the hospital has than try something else. Jayce thinks the texture or taste draws him to the same type of thing every time, to guess. He doesn’t mind though, it’s endearing to him. Still, he mentally makes a note to tease him about it later.
Or that is typically how things would go... if it was anyone but them.
He knocks on the door to Viktor’s room. “Guess who!” Jayce shouts. He had originally gelled his hair for the occasion, but the downpour outside undid it all and made him look more like a wet dog. Jayce hopes Viktor will find it cute.
Viktor swings the door open—well, he creaks the door open. His arms both look and are weak. Still, he smiles when they meet eyes. “You look cute, Jayce.”
Hell yeah! Jayce mentally cheers himself on. He puts his hand on Viktor’s shoulder again. This level of physical affection from Jayce is normal to them, at this point. “You look cute too, V.” It’s true for Jayce. It’s more messy than when they first met, but it’s still cute. Even handsome.
“Don’t flatter me too much,” Viktor says. “You still need to… um…”
“I need to what?”
“You still…” His eyes are unfocused and his voice trails off, like he’s searching for a thought he can’t quite get a hold of, slipping away.
“You’re losing me, V,” Jayce says, blissfully unaware, just happy to see him.
He wishes he was more attentive and less in his head because his body barely reacts when Viktor’s eyes close and his whole body falls straight backwards, almost like it was carefully planned. His hand tries to grip him by his shoulder, but he can’t get it tight enough and Viktor slips away, catching nothing but air.
His head bashes against the floor. Jayce can’t think of a more visceral word to describe it. The sound shakes his core as it echoes through the room and the hallway outside. Without hesitation, he rushes to Viktor’s side and drops to his knees, eyes scouring all over him. Panic rises through his chest, but he swallows and tries to stay calm.
Once Jayce sees blood gushing from Viktor’s head, that’s when he shouts for a nurse—for anyone. It’s shrill and haunting, if not desperate.
Viktor lays in his arms. He looks dead. Before, he looked ill, bony, and thin. But if there wasn’t the shallow rise and fall of his chest, Viktor could be confused with a corpse. His blood mixes with his hair, darkening some patches of brown to a sickly shade of red. And at this point, it doesn’t even look like he is wearing his hospital gown. He is so small that he looks like a kid who broke into their older sibling’s wardrobe. The arms of the gown, formerly stopping shortly after the shoulder, now go down to his elbows. Although the bottom used to go down to his knees, it's now halfway to his ankles.
Soon, the staff came pouring in at the rate of the raindrops pattering against the window. Jayce lets go of Viktor at their request and allows them to work. He is sitting on the hallway floor, looking through the doorway at the scene. He feels absolutely selfish for the pain in his chest when he lets go of Viktor. But he knows he can’t be the savior as much as he wants. Not now. Not later. Not ever.
From where Jayce is, all he sees is Viktor’s feet and ankles. The rest of him is lost, a world away. Jayce doesn’t realize he is crying until his shirt is wet.
Their lunch dates manage to continue. But after the incident, Viktor stays in bed, all the time. Jayce doesn’t ask if it’s because of his fall or if he just doesn’t want to. It doesn’t deter him though. Every day, he finds the time to bring soup for them. Instead of enjoying it in the food court, the hospital room is their restaurant, just for them.
Viktor never turns Jayce away, for which he is grateful. He always accepts the soup and he always lets him try to engage in conversation, even if Jayce is the only one talking, even if Viktor can’t find the strength for words. But today, things are different.
It had been raining before, but the clouds hadn’t departed yet. The room is painted a sober grey, making Viktor look somehow even paler. It hurts Jayce to look at him. At this point, it’s been weeks since their first meeting. All this time, he’s told his family and friends that he got the volunteering opportunity and that is where he’s been each day. They don’t know he’s spent every minute he could with Viktor. They don’t even know of Viktor.
Today, the conversation is dull. Viktor may be tired, but for the first time, Jayce is too. He’s tried to carry their talks for so long, enthusiastic and curious. But this is the first time that he doesn’t try. The bags under his eyes tell a story of their own, as does the way his knee hasn’t stopped bouncing. The effect this all has had on Jayce is starting to become undeniable. In his ways, he is also deteriorating. There is a weight in his stomach that refuses to lift.
Viktor wishes that Jayce would finally leave him alone. Although he’s falling apart, he doesn’t want to risk bringing Jayce down with him as well. He could be happier somewhere else. But he knows Jayce would never leave him, even if he asked him to. He’s too kind. Internally, Viktor is secretly grateful he has stayed with him for all this time.
They can hear people outside in the hallway and the machines next to Viktor’s bed beep absent-mindedly. It’s not a kind sort of silence. On days like these, their inevitable end is approaching too fast. It makes Jayce feel uneasy. He wishes there was anything within his power to change the road they're both on.
His eyes widen when Viktor breaks the silence. His voice is thick, parts of his words slurring into each other. “Jayce, can you do something for me?”
Jayce responds immediately. “Anything.”
“There is a suitcase in the closet. Can you retrieve it?”
He doesn’t reply, instead going straight for the closet in the corner of the room. Viktor’s gaze is weak, his dark hair frames his face like a painting. “Bring it over here, please, Jayce.”
“This is yours?” Jayce asks as he puts it on the bed beside Viktor’s legs. It looks normal enough, made of leather. It is out of place in this sterile environment. It looks too natural, and used too much.
He nods slowly. “Open it for me.”
Jayce looks at him for a moment, hesitant. But he does as requested and brings the zipper all around the outline of the suitcase. He pushes the top back and his heart stills as he looks inside. “I…” He can’t find the words for his thoughts. It feels almost invasive, like he’s looking into someone’s life, a time capsule of their memories—Viktor’s.
“I would like you to take this suitcase with you when you leave today, Jayce.”
He shakes his head, heart in his throat. “I can’t do that.”
Viktor’s eyes narrow. “You can and I want you to.”
The suitcase is filled with many things. The first thing Jayce sees is the neatly folded pile of clothes. Vests and a tie rest upon a bed of button-up shirts and dress pants. These all screamed Viktor, the version of him before he came to the hospital. The mix of dark and light colors is stunning, with the blood-red tie cutting through it all. It's an opening to the past. This level of vulnerability from Viktor makes Jayce’s throat tighten.
“It may be difficult to believe,” Viktor croaks out, weakly gesturing to the clothes, “but I was quite dashing before.”
He smiles at him. “You are dashing.” Viktor has no use for these anymore; it’s a silent understanding. It’s no use trying to hold on to them. He is touched that he would gift these to him.
Although he is trying to avoid it by any means, Jayce’s eyes water as he looks at the objects next to Viktor’s old clothes. Certificates and frames lay together. There is a diploma marked by a velvet ribbon with Viktor’s name. It has plenty of creases with the corner ripped off. It looks like it wasn’t taken care of properly, crumpled to its breaking point. Either that or it was damaged on purpose. He tries to stop his hands from trembling.
Next to those, there is a small stack of framed photographs. Every one of them had Viktor in it, at some point in his life. Jayce lifts the top one first. He looks young in the photo, an innocent child. He is standing beside a scholarly-looking individual who hands him a gold trophy. Viktor’s smile is so large in the photograph, that it’s difficult to see the current Viktor within him. His smile warms his heart to its core. He is so youthful, so hopeful, so passionate, and so gone. “Science fair,” is heard from the edges of his blurry vision, like a dream.
Underneath it is another photo, another window into Viktor as a child. He is holding some sort of metallic object—an invention, no doubt. He looked so unbelievably proud, showing it right to the camera. “My first invention. Well, the first invention I felt comfortable showing.”
Then there’s a photo of him standing with two adults, a backpack on his back. “First day of high school.”
Then another: him, older and wiser, with a piece of paper in his hands, adorned with a red ribbon like the paper from before.
“University graduation. It’s from a lifetime ago”
Then another: him standing next to two other adults who look quite older than him.
“Parents.” This time Viktor’s voice starts to fray at the edges, sadness creeping into his voice. “I wish I visited them more before I got sick. I wish I…”
Jayce sits on the edge of his bed, careful not to take too much space. He takes Viktor’s hands within his. It is meant to be comforting and the two stare at each other, unspoken affection. A tear slowly rolls down Viktor’s cheek, riding down where his cheeks sink, held up just by the bones underneath. Jayce’s heart shatters.
Viktor’s words hang in the air as he says them with a tremble. “I wish I wasn’t sick.”
“I know, V.”
“I had so much potential.”
Jayce covers his hands around Viktor's and gently presses his lips against them like he could break. He tries to stop his own hands from trembling. “V…”
His bottom lip trembles. “And none of it gets to be actualized. Absolutely NONE of it. It’s truly pathetic.”
“I see all of you,” Jayce says. His voice is soft like the clouds in the sky. “And every, I mean it, every single thing I see leaves me speechless. All of you.” He holds Viktor’s cheek, using his thumb to wipe away any tears. “All of you. ”
Jayce can’t tell if Viktor believes it, but he at the very least humors him. His eyes dart to the hand on his cheek, then back to the man across from him. “You spend too much time with me.”
“I don’t spend enough time with you.”
“Please,” Viktor begs, “don’t make this so difficult for me.”
“This is going to be difficult for both of us. There’s no way around that.”
The rain starts to pick up again outside. “I suppose that’s true.” Viktor looks at the suitcase near them, careful not to forget it. “There is a tin in the suitcase as well, put it somewhere safe, please. For me. ”
Jayce doesn’t pull away. He stays exactly where he is with Viktor. “Can I know what’s inside?”
“Not yet,” Viktor says. “Please don’t open it for now. Can you promise me?”
Jayce’s heart hurts. He doesn’t realize his knee is bouncing again. “I’d promise anything for you.”
Viktor manages to smile. The corners of his mouth may only be slightly tilted upwards, but it is undeniably a smile. It’s bittersweet.
It’s in the evening when Jayce has to go. He offers to send an excuse to his friends so he can stay, but Viktor pushes him to go. Jayce knows Viktor wouldn’t want him to sacrifice his other relationships to stay with him. Although he doesn’t view it as anything close to a sacrifice, for Viktor’s sake, he goes. Jayce tenderly kisses Viktor on his forehead and promises to visit tomorrow.
They both wish this could last forever. Viktor doesn’t have much longer. It’s not hard to tell, with the way his bones dig into Jayce and the weakness in his voice.
“It seems you’ve gotten attached,” Viktor murmurs into Jayce’s chest. “Stupidly, stupidly attached.”
“You are as well.” It's all Jayce can say: the truth. His arms are locked around Viktor, bodies together in his hospital bed. The bottom of his face is resting tenderly in Viktor’s hair. Jayce holds him like he is the universe and the stars. Right now, he is. His body stays completely still, with only his chest slowly rising and falling. Outside the hospital window, the sun is setting. The day is finally ending, at a curtain call.
Jayce cradles Viktor like he will be there with him in the morning. He has gotten stupidly attached. So so attached. An incredibly selfish part of him wishes he didn’t let himself get like this, so vulnerable and pathetic. But he feels Viktor’s shallow breaths against his chest and his breathing wavers. He could never regret this.
Viktor slowly raises his head, his chin resting on Jayce’s chest. “I shouldn’t have. I know that I shouldn’t have.” His mouth creases into a smile. “I’m sorry.”
The two keep eye contact as Viktor is delicately draped on top of Jayce. They are inches from touching noses. “You shouldn’t be sorry. You are wonderful, V.”
Viktor’s smile stays, but his eyebrows drop. “I’m sorry… that this is how things are. I wish things could have been different.”
“I would have never met you otherwise.”
This time his smile drops. “And your life would have been better for it, Jayce.”
“My life is better because I met you,” Jayce says. “You are someone I would never want to forget. You’re someone who I will never forget.”
“Why?”
“I am attached. You’ll never get rid of me, V. I am attached to you, Viktor. Every Viktor. The one that showed me his dreams and hopes, the one that disrespects himself although he shouldn’t.” He smiles genuinely, although he feels a hic in his throat. The sunlight is fading. “Thank you, Viktor. Thank you so much.”
Viktor’s eyebrows furrow. “It's… I…” Jayce can feel Viktor’s body begin to tremble. “This is—this is all just so…”
Jayce soothes him, rubbing circles on his back. “It's okay, V.”
His body shakes more and more until Jayce sees the tears start to roll down his cheeks. But Viktor doesn’t move his head. His eyes scan Jayce’s face up and down, left and right amidst the teardrops. He stares at him like he’s committing every bit of Jayce’s face to memory like a photograph, like he’s scared he’ll forget. His gaze drags across the line of his jaw, sweeping to his cheekbones, to his eyes, and then down to his lips.
“Jayce.”
“Viktor.”
“Please don’t let go of me.”
“I will never let you go. I’m here, V.”
Viktor swallows and lets out a sigh. “You have truly been the best company, Jayce. I’m grateful.”
He smiles. “You really are special.”
Jayce combs his fingers through Viktor’s hair as he looks at him fondly. The gap between them is closer now. The lights from the machines next to the bed reflect against their eyes in the growing darkness. “Jayce…” Viktor says it like a lullaby. It sounds gentle, but it isn’t. It's weak and fleeting, a message to nobody. The amber fades from the room, slowly but surely.
“You’re beautiful.”
Viktor’s eyes light up and this time, for the first time in an eternity, smiles. It isn’t small and it isn’t big, but it’s mesmerizing. “Jayce… I am very fortunate.”
A beat passes. The machines still murmur next to them.
“Thank you for everything,” he continues. “You have made this month one that I will carry with me… forever.” Until his eyes close, when he’s gone. “You have been lovely, Jayce. Utterly and purely lovely."
Viktor tries to raise a hand to Jayce’s cheek, but he can’t. His arms are now nothing but bones and his skeleton is his skin, deep pockets where the gaps are. It doesn’t matter though. Jayce guides it softly.
Jayce’s hand covers Viktor’s, helping him cup his cheek. They stare at each other in silence but also serenity. Despite everything, this is perfect for them. They push it all away, the pain and despair that is saddled in the bottom of their guts. They forget the future and the past. But they remember each other as Viktor brings his lips to Jayce's.
They kiss. It is soft and it is just for a moment. They part, and quickly, they kiss again. Then again, gently and sweetly. Time passes by fast. Each kiss tries to slow down the clock, to scrape at the seconds and rake at the hours. It’s no use. They are there with each other as darkness finally swallows the room. They are there together as the tears return. Their tears are salty on their tongues. The brightest stars shine outside their window.
They fight against slumber. But Viktor is weak and Jayce won’t push him if he doesn’t want him to. It's cruel that these kisses will be the last they’ll have. Eventually, Viktor pulls away. His eyelids waver, darkness pulling at them silently. He gives a genuine smile, with the whites of his teeth showing. He knows. Jayce also knows and gently shifts Viktor down so his cheek rests against his chest again.
Jayce presses a tender kiss into his hair and wraps his arms back around Viktor. The two lay there together.
“I love you, Jayce.”
“I love you too, Viktor.”
They are satisfied. They are perfect. They both sleep.
Jayce didn’t want to wake up. He knew what he’d see, what he’d have to accept, what he’d lose. He may now be awake, but his eyes stay closed. The sun filters through the window with warmth and gentleness. Jayce does feel warm, but the body he is with is not. It is now cold. It's devastatingly cold.
A chill runs through his body, dancing along every nerve and bone. It's a pitiable feeling, one that makes him want to return to slumber. He doesn’t want to recognize it. He wants to sleep as if Viktor wasn’t– Jayce wants to sleep because Viktor–
Viktor.
The mere thought of his name brings another chill, then it’s a steep and rapid descent from here. Jayce wills his eyes open with every bit of willpower he has. A cry spills from his throat as he sees Viktor, so small, so delicate, so unbelievably weak.
Viktor rests against him as he did throughout the night, his face framed by his dark hair. He looks pure, like an angel. His eyes are closed, his lips are thin, and his cheeks are gaunt. Viktor’s chest does not rise. Viktor’s chest does not fall.
Jayce silently sobs to himself and wraps his body around Viktor, desperately searching for even a flicker of warmth, a flicker of anything. Despite this, there is nothing to be found. His body heaves and rocks as his cries turn into sobs. There is no way of stopping it, it works its way from his throat to his mouth, messy and uncontrollable.
Devastation is a terrible thing. He realizes he will never see Viktor again when he leaves the hospital. He realizes he will never hear Viktor’s voice with its lovely accent. He realizes that he will never talk to Viktor again. He will never hold Viktor again. Viktor is dead.
Jayce believes he will never meet a single person who could hold a candle to Viktor. He will never feel this again. To him, it’s over, isn’t it?
Jayce holds Viktor like he is a miracle. He holds him like he is the air in his lungs. He holds him like he is one of the brightest stars in the sky.
He doesn’t move. He doesn’t want to. Jayce doesn’t call a nurse. They will come for their rounds and Viktor eventually.
Jayce selfishly clings to Viktor as long as he can. It isn’t long enough.
Jayce doesn’t mention Viktor to anyone. He doesn’t want to. He gets home a bit before noon, the sun is still hiding behind the clouds. His entire body is cold and numb. He can't feel a thing.
He goes up the stairs at an even pace and slithers into his room. Jayce stands there for a bit. His eyes stay on the edge of his carpet, where the beige meets wood. Specks of dust float through the air, but despite that, the air feels still, if not stale.
A bitter taste of acceptance hits him. Not closure, not satisfaction, not anything like that. The acceptance that this is over. Jayce’s interactions with Viktor are over. The times they spent are nothing but the past. He somehow hates it more than he thought he ever could. He opens his bedside drawer and picks it up.
The silver tin rests in Jayce’s hands and he doesn’t feel any hesitation. He knows that now is the time. Viktor may have never put it into words, but it was an understanding built on trust. Jayce knows that now, it's okay. He can open it.
Jayce sits on the carpet, in the middle of his room. His fingers rest against the edge of the lid. With a deep breath, he hooks his fingers and lifts. The tin is fuller than he imagined. Various papers lay inside, nearly filling over. There is also a worn book, which Jayce is drawn to first.
He opens it and his eyes widen from both shock and the hurtful pang that settles in his ribs. The first page is a diagram of the invention Viktor was tinkering with the first day they met, the one that he got hit by. There are scribbles of notes and observations all around it, showing the process, and the thoughts.
Jayce flips to the next page, which gives him a similar sight. More pictures, more words, all left by Viktor. Then he flips to the next page, then the next, then the next, then another.
Every page is filled to the brim with knowledge and aspirations. Every bit of ink on each page is made of Viktor’s intelligence and dreams. This is him, each time he flips to see what's next. This is all Viktor, his ambitions and essence. And he trusted Jayce with every bit of it.
Jayce feels pathetic as his trembling hands bring the open book to his face. He takes a deep breath through his nose. Every bit of it, the smell, the texture, the contents inside, all screams Viktor. He is careful to not stain any bit of the book with the fresh, hot tears that roll down his cheeks.
His fingers reach shakily for a piece of paper, resting on a bed of smaller slips. Jayce’s eyes start at the top of it and falter.
It’s a letter. The first words, the ones that make him hesitate, are:
Thank you so much, Jayce.
Another sob makes its way out and the letter shakes in Jayce’s hands. It’s difficult to continue, all of this is too much. It’s suffocating. His tears make it difficult to see but he persists.
Thank you so much, Jayce.
I wanted to begin with that. I am not a very sentimental person by nature. It's the way I’ve always been. But you’ve managed to turn that all sideways with your affection. Of course, you have.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. First, if you are reading this, it means that either you have gone against my wishes or I have died. For the sake of the contents of this letter, I hope it is the latter. But I trust you, so I’ll assume it is.
I never thought that I would ever know someone in the way that I know you. I thought it was beyond me, if not futile. But you are a very special individual, Jayce. You are charming, if not enchanting. I had so many walls up, built with my despair and suffering. You miraculously managed to bring each one down and build beds of hope in their place. You made me wish to live. I was prepared to die alone and bitterly with broken dreams, but you changed that. So again, thank you.
I just wish I could have known you for longer. I suppose fate wasn’t on our side in that regard. But I do find it very fortunate I was able to know you for this past month. Jayce, you are a wonderful being and I hope that you don’t let this weigh you down forever. You have a sharp mind, I hope you go far with it. Follow your passions and ambitions. Although I wish I could for myself, I cannot. It wasn’t meant to be. I am confident that you will find great success.
And in great irony, I find myself infatuated with you. I wish I wasn’t. I had those barriers up for such a reason, to not let myself care for another like I do for you, but unsurprisingly, you found a way. I hope that if there is anything after this for me, I can follow you wherever you go.
Thank you for every moment, Jayce. Thank you for being my friend. Thank you for being my love. I found great joy in existing with you. I wish you nothing but the best and I hope you find happiness.
It was affection that held us together.
Forever yours, Viktor.
Jayce rereads it over and over in a loop of neediness. He tries to burn every word into his memory and savor every ounce of Viktor from this letter. It was affection that held them together. To Jayce, it was that and more. Affection may have been their core, but love is the wings that gave them flight. Love is every bit of time he has spent with Viktor. And he will hold this love in his heart for each struggle and triumph he encounters.
Then there was the pile of slips in the tin. Jayce carefully picks one up between his fingers. There is a message written on it in Viktor’s handwriting.
I hope you are happy, it says.
Jayce’s eyebrows furrow together in disbelief. When did Viktor write these? Less careful this time, he picks up another.
All of the moments between us mattered.
He tips the tin over, dumping all of the slips out. Jayce picks up another, followed by another, and another. He is moving frantically now, his heart beating fast and his breathing going uneven. Each one sets a new layer of pain into the gut of his stomach. It hurts. It all hurts so much. But Viktor wrote these and Jayce would never think of ignoring them.
I wish we could have laughed together more.
You made every day better.
I wish I weren’t sick—we could have done so much more together.
You are my favorite part of each day.
I wish I could’ve stayed with you.
You are honest and pure.
I wish that I could have visited your home.
You made me feel brave.
I wish I could’ve held you in my arms, instead of it always being the opposite.
Your smile shines like a star.
I’m lucky I met you.
Your affection made me feel whole.
I wish that we had a chance.
And there was so much more. Each was unique—a true look into Viktor’s thoughts. Jayce found it difficult to believe, but it's apparent to him now. He somehow meant so much more to Viktor than he even realized.
Jayce couldn’t believe any of it. Despite everything Viktor was going through—all of his pain and suffering—he took the time to write these notes down. He put his raw emotions on paper for Jayce to see. He put so much care and detail into this, just for him.
His stomach drops when he sees a hard shape amidst the slips. It has a metallic shine to it, Jayce can see his teary eyes in the reflection. He uncovers it like treasure and brings a hand to his mouth as if attempting to prevent any more sounds of despair from ringing through his room. It is—was Viktor’s invention itself, the one that bruised his forehead the first day they met. A smile burns on Jayce’s face. Staring at it gives him a flood of his memories with Viktor.
Jayce puts everything back into the tin and closes it. He picks it up, brings it to his chest and holds it against his heart with his arms crossed over it. He tries to take a breath, but he fails. Grief bubbles through his body. He lets out a cry, a meek one at first. Then it’s followed by a louder, uglier one. It hurts.
Each guttural sob feels like his body is falling apart over and over. The despair of it all feels like it nearly could kill him. Jayce rolls to his side and sobs more with the tin secured between his arms. He holds it like it could easily fade into the wind.
Jayce lets the grief wash over him, working its way through him in waves. His voice trembles, drowning between sobs.
“I miss you, V.”
A couple of weeks later, Jayce would revisit the hospital. He would ask and finally be permitted to volunteer like he was supposed to all that time ago. He now enjoys it there very much.
Viktor is with him wherever he goes, he is certain of that. He misses his face and the frames and certificates in Viktor's suitcase don't satisfy him, but he is fortunate that he has the suitcase in the first place. The tin with its contents stays inside his bedside drawer, safe and sound. He looks through it every day.
It's really the most comforting thing.