Work Text:
The pain is annoying. Viktor is used to it, been used to it for almost a decade now, but it’s still annoying. And so is running out of pain medications.
He sighs as the door of the half-empty over-the-sink cabinet shuts close.
There’s quiet footsteps, a kiss to the back of his neck.
“What’s wrong?” Jayce’s voice is quiet this early in the morning. This is one of the things Viktor hasn’t got used to yet.
He isn’t used to Jayce loving him, to Jayce caring for him — not like this, never like this, not even when they were something back in their youth. So Viktor’s first instinct is dismiss the worry, to say that nothing is wrong.
But they promised, promised to be better, to be honest. To not fuck it up like they did before.
“I’m out of my drugs. For the pain.”
“Why-,” Jayce looks worried, “are you hurt?”
Viktor really doesn’t like where this conversation is going — it’s too early for this whole- thing, but. They promised.
“It’s the augments,” he says tailing back to their bed, now with new silken covers that are kinder to Jayce’s senses. “Well, in a way. Do you know what phantom pain is?”
“The sensation from missing limbs? But it’s-”
Jayce’s touch is gentle, always so gentle now, just as his gaze — and Viktor knows it’s not pity. It’s love, it’s compassion — it’s everything he wanted from Jayce since the beginning, but he still feels his body burning under the weight it.
He hates being vulnerable like this. He needs to be vulnerable like this.
“Yes, neural feedback link helps with nerves misfiring, but the technology was still rough when I was remaking my body — and I just don’t have the resources to make new limbs, not without sacrificing someone else’s chance at a better life.”
“So you’re sacrificing your own.”
Viktor nods in response. Yes, he is, and he doesn’t regret it
“How can I help? I can make you new au-”
“No,” Viktor stops him before Jayce even finishes the sentence. That’s too much. To have Jayce’s work be part of him, part of his body- Viktor can’t, it’s too close, too intimate, too meaningful in a way he isn’t ready for. “No, not yet.”
He expects Jayce to argue, to be the stubborn if well-meaning fool he so often is, but Jayce just smiles sadly.
“Okay. So what can I do?”
They both are trying to be better.
“There’s a drugstore several blocks away, I’ll write down my medications, so you can go get them.”
“Right,” Jayce says as he gets up, Viktor already missing his warmth, “can do that. And you will rest while I’m out, yeah?”
Viktor chuckles.
“You know I won’t”
***
Even though the pain has gotten worse, Viktor doesn’t have the luxury to take a break — the new filtration system prototype needs to be fixed as soon as possible.
Pain is irrelevant. Viktor’s pain is always irrelevant.
“You are aware that you need rest, right?”
Viktor hadn’t even noticed Jayce coming back. And Jayce is right — not that Viktor is going to tell him that now.
“My medication?”
“Yeah.”
Jayce pulls out a few vials of murky yellow-green liquid — a better quality than Viktor usually takes, but he isn’t in a mood to argue about wasting money on unnecessary luxuries.
He puts all but one vial away, inserting the one in his hand into a slot in his prosthetic — he always expected he’d need additional injections to keep himself functioning, and this is way easier than bothering with syringes.
His body sometimes feels like a fucking joke of his own making.
“You okay? Is the drug-”
“I’ll be fine, now let me work in peace.”
They sit together on a working bench — Viktor messing with prototype, Jayce going through some notes. It’s probably ones for the project they discussed a few days ago, a high-efficiency chemtech generator adapted to function in areas of higher toxicity.
It’s nice to work with Jayce again. It’s nice to be with Jayce again.
The drug’s effects are slowly kicking in and the pain subsides, the rhythm of metal hitting metal, tinkering with old plated puts Viktor in a flow state.
“How often are you in pain?” Jayce’s voice pulls through the haze, as usual annoying in its directness, but softened with care.
“Most of the time,” and Viktor can see how Jayce’s eyes flash with fear and concern, “but it’s usually easy to tune out. Bad pain days are rare.”
“I wish I knew that you-”
And Viktor gets it. He does. That why he knows that Jayce is being stupid right now by blaming himself.
“It wouldn’t change anything. And it’s not about you.”
“Maybe,” Jayce sounds defeated, his head falling onto Viktor’s shoulder. “But I still want to know when you hurt. I know I failed to be there for you so many times, but I want to. Vik, I want to be there for you.”
Just a few months ago Viktor wouldn’t have believed him. Would’ve run away as far as he could, scared of opening up only to be backstabbed again.
But now he knows that this is real. That Jayce never wanted to hurt him, that Jayce truly cares even about meaningless- no, not meaningless, but small things.
That Jayce loves him, fully and unconditionally.
“I love you too,” Viktor replies, words falling from his mouth so easily now. He loves Jayce, he doesn’t have to be afraid of that love.
There will be more pain days for him — even if he eventually replaces his augments, flesh next to them still will find a way to burn as it’s the nature of life.
And Viktor learns to love that life now, in all of its messiness — he lost himself seeking perfection in metal once, not by carving away his body but by giving up on his soul. He embraces it now, or at least he tries.
Flesh and machine, both flawed and imperfect — but both him, both so human. Not broken, just needing maintenance. Just needing care.
Like that, he can love Jayce and be loved.
Like that, he can truly live.