Chapter Text
Each mile that passed made Viktor’s stomach twist tighter.
Jayce didn’t say anything.
Not when Viktor stared out the window, watching the city blur past. Not when his fingers kept drifting toward his wrist, tracing the raised edge of the tattoo without even realizing he was doing it. Not when the silence between them became heavy enough that Viktor felt like he could barely breathe.
He kept waiting for Jayce to say something.
For him to tell him he’d crossed a line. That showing up angry, demanding answers, demanding to be heard, had been too much. That he didn’t understand how the world worked, that he couldn’t just storm into someone’s life and expect things to change because he was hurting.
Viktor had prepared himself for that conversation.
But Jayce never gave it.
Instead, when they finally pulled into the driveway and the engine clicked off, Jayce sat there quietly for a moment.
The change in his voice caught Viktor off guard.
“Hey.”
Viktor looked over.
Jayce wasn’t angry.
He wasn’t disappointed.
He was just looking at him.
“What’s the butterfly for?”
His eyes flicked down to Viktor’s wrist.
Viktor froze.
His thumb was pressed against the soft skin near his tattoo, rubbing over the little semicolon butterfly without him even noticing. Like some part of him was always checking that it was still there.
For a second, he wasn’t in the car anymore.
He was back in that tattoo shop.
The smell of ink. The buzzing of the needle. The ache in his chest that had felt too big for his body.
He swallowed.
“Me.”
Jayce tilted his head slightly. “You?”
Viktor looked away, staring through the windshield.
“Not exactly.”
His voice was quiet. Short. Like he was trying to give Jayce just enough information without opening a door he wasn’t ready to walk through.
“It’s a reminder.”
Jayce didn’t interrupt.
Viktor’s fingers tightened around his wrist.
“The semicolon means the story isn’t over.”
A pause.
“And the butterfly…” Viktor looked down at it. “Change. Becoming something different.”
His throat tightened.
“I got it when I needed to remember that.”
Jayce’s expression softened.
Viktor hated how easily Jayce could see through him sometimes.
He looked toward the houses outside, anywhere but at him. His chest felt tight, like the car had suddenly gotten too small and there wasn’t enough air.
“I don’t really talk about it,” Viktor admitted.
Jayce was quiet for a moment.
Then, gently, “You don’t have to.”
Viktor finally looked at him.
Jayce wasn’t pushing.
Wasn’t asking for more.
He was just there.
And somehow that made it harder.
Viktor let out a slow breath and looked back down at the butterfly on his wrist.
“It’s just… important.”
Jayce nodded.
“Yeah.”
Another silence settled between them.
But this one didn’t feel heavy.
It felt safe.
*****
It happened slowly.
So slowly that neither of them noticed at first.
It wasn’t some dramatic moment where everything changed. There was no sudden realization, no grand confession, no point where Jayce could look back and say, That was when Viktor became important.
He just did.
Somewhere between the quiet drives home and the conversations that lasted longer than either of them expected.
Somewhere between Viktor going from sitting stiffly in the passenger seat like he was waiting to be dropped off to kicking his shoes off and making himself comfortable.
Somewhere between Viktor trusting him with the heavy things and Jayce realizing he was even more interested in the little things.
The little things were what got him.
Because Jayce had expected Viktor’s story to be made up of pain.
He had expected grief. Anger. Survival.
And Viktor had those things.
But he was also so much more than them.
Jayce started learning the things Viktor had hidden.
Not because they were secrets.
Because he had never really been allowed to have them.
Like how Viktor didn’t actually like coffee.
Jayce remembered the first time he offered him some.
“Coffee?”
Viktor had looked at the cup like Jayce had personally offended him.
“No.”
Jayce blinked. “No?”
“No.”
“You’re the first person I’ve met who looks offended by coffee.”
“I’m not offended.”
“You look offended.”
Viktor sighed. “I just don’t like it.”
“Everyone likes coffee.”
“That sounds like a personal problem.”
And Jayce laughed.
Really laughed.
Because it was such a Viktor response.
Later, he found out Viktor liked sweet milk tea instead.
Not just liked it.
Loved it.
The first time Jayce brought him one, Viktor stared at it suspiciously.
“What?”
“You remembered.”
Jayce shrugged.
“Yeah.”
Viktor looked down at the drink.
Like someone remembering something so small was strange.
Like he wasn’t used to people paying attention.
That was the moment Jayce had to look away.
Because something in his chest hurt.
Viktor didn’t understand how easy he was to care about.
That was the problem.
Jayce was learning things every day.
Like how Viktor wanted more piercings.
Not because he was trying to rebel.
Not because he wanted attention.
Because he liked them.
He liked how they looked.
He liked choosing things about himself.
“I’m getting more eventually,” Viktor said casually one day.
Jayce looked over. “More?”
Viktor nodded.
“When I have the money.”
There was no shame in his voice.
Just excitement.
And Jayce loved that.
He loved seeing Viktor talk about things that had nothing to do with surviving.
Things that were just his.
He learned Viktor dyed his own hair.
“You dye your own hair?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I can.”
Jayce laughed.
“No, seriously.”
Viktor shrugged.
“It’s cheaper.”
A pause.
“And I like it.”
That second part stuck with Jayce.
I like it.
Not because he had to.
Not because it was useful.
Not because someone else wanted him to.
Just because Viktor liked something.
Jayce wanted to collect every single one of those moments.
Every little piece of Viktor that existed outside of his trauma.
Because for so long, Jayce had only known the things that hurt him.
Now he was learning the things that made him smile.
And that was somehow worse.
Because Jayce was falling.
Hard.
Every hour he spent with Viktor made it worse.
Every stupid joke.
Every sarcastic comment.
Every time Viktor got excited about something and forgot to hide it.
Every time Viktor trusted him enough to be quiet around him.
Jayce was falling in love with him.
And he hated how much he loved it.
Because Viktor was the best thing that had happened to him in a long time.
Maybe ever.
But Jayce wasn’t stupid.
He knew Viktor was still healing.
He knew Viktor was still learning that people could stay.
That people could care without wanting something in return.
And Jayce refused to become another person who took from him.
So he buried it.
Every time he wanted to reach for Viktor’s hand.
Every time he wanted to tell him he was beautiful.
Every time Viktor smiled at him and Jayce felt like his entire world shifted.
He swallowed it down.
Because this friendship mattered more than his feelings.
Viktor mattered more than what Jayce wanted.
And if the only way to keep Viktor in his life was to love him quietly, then Jayce would do that.
Because for the first time in a long time, Jayce had something that felt safe.
Something that felt real.
And he wasn’t willing to risk losing it.
Not even for the chance of having more.
*****
Jayce knew something was wrong.
He just didn’t know what.
At first, he tried to convince himself he was imagining it.
Viktor was busy.
Viktor was stressed.
Viktor was dealing with his own things.
There were a thousand explanations that didn’t involve the one his brain kept screaming at him.
He’s leaving.
Because Viktor had changed.
Not all at once.
That would have been easier.
It was little things.
The messages got shorter.
The conversations ended faster.
Viktor stopped lingering after class.
Stopped showing up randomly just to sit with him.
Stopped looking for him.
And Jayce hated that he noticed every single thing.
Because he had spent months learning Viktor.
Learning the difference between when he was quiet because he was thinking and when he was quiet because something was wrong.
This was different.
This was distance.
And Jayce didn’t know what to do.
Every part of him wanted to ask.
Wanted to say, Did I do something?
Wanted to grab his hand and make him look at him and tell him what was happening.
But then he remembered.
Viktor’s walls.
The way he reacted when people pushed too hard.
The way he needed control over when he opened up.
So Jayce did the only thing he knew how to do.
He waited.
And every day he waited, it got worse.
Because Viktor kept pulling away.
And Jayce kept telling himself that respecting Viktor meant letting him go.
Even though it felt like someone was slowly ripping his heart out.
“I think I’m losing him.”
Caitlyn looked up from her drink.
Jayce hadn’t meant to say it out loud.
But he was tired.
So tired.
“I think Viktor doesn’t want me around anymore.”
Caitlyn frowned.
“Jayce…”
“I don’t know what I did.”
“You don’t know that you did anything.”
“But something changed.”
He rubbed his hands over his face.
“He was finally letting me in, Caitlyn. He was finally trusting me, and now he’s gone.”
His voice cracked slightly.
And that scared him.
Because Jayce wasn’t someone who cried easily.
Not over people.
Not over feelings.
But Viktor wasn’t just anyone.
“He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Caitlyn softened.
“Jayce.”
“I’m serious.”
He looked down.
“I’ve never had someone like him.”
Someone who made him want to be better.
Someone who made him feel like maybe he wasn’t just going through life waiting for something to happen.
Someone who made him feel chosen.
Caitlyn sighed.
“I don’t know, Jayce. From the outside? It kind of sounds like he’s pulling away.”
Jayce swallowed.
“Yeah.”
And that was the worst part.
Hearing someone else say it.
Because maybe he wasn’t imagining it.
Maybe he really was losing him.
*****
Viktor saw them before Jayce saw him.
He froze.
For weeks, he had been avoiding Jayce.
Not because he hated him.
Not because he didn’t want him.
Because he wanted him too much.
That was the problem.
Somewhere between the tea runs and the late-night conversations and the way Jayce looked at him like he was worth knowing, Viktor had realized something terrifying.
He liked him.
Not just as a friend.
Not just as someone safe.
He wanted Jayce.
And that scared him.
Because wanting something meant it could be taken away.
So he did what he always did.
He ran.
Except this time, running hurt worse than staying.
And now he was standing there, watching Jayce look completely broken.
Watching him talk like losing Viktor was already a reality.
Something inside Viktor twisted.
No.
He couldn’t do this.
Not to Jayce.
Not to himself.
So before he could overthink it, he walked over.
“Jayce.”
Jayce looked up.
And immediately his stomach dropped.
Oh.
This was it.
This was the conversation.
The one where Viktor told him he didn’t want him around anymore.
The one where he lost him.
“Hey,” Jayce said weakly.
Viktor’s expression was unreadable.
“Jayce. We need to talk.”
His heart sank.
“Okay.”
That was all he could say.
Okay.
Because if he opened his mouth too much, everything inside him would spill out.
So he followed Viktor somewhere quieter.
And then he sat there.
And listened.
Except he wasn’t really listening.
Because his brain was screaming.
This is it.
You ruined it.
You knew this was too good to last.
“Jayce?”
He blinked.
“What?”
Viktor frowned.
“I said I’ve been thinking about us.”
Us.
The word barely registered.
Jayce looked down.
“I’m sorry.”
Viktor stopped.
“For what?”
“I don’t know.”
His voice started rushing.
“I don’t know what I did. I don’t know why you don’t want to be friends anymore, but I’m sorry.”
“Jayce—”
“I just don’t want to lose you.”
Viktor went quiet.
Jayce kept going because if he stopped, he might actually fall apart.
“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Viktor. I know maybe I messed something up, but I don’t want you gone.”
“Jayce.”
“I just want to still be your friend.”
And that was when Viktor’s expression changed.
Not anger.
Not hurt.
Confusion.
“Your friend?”
Jayce finally looked up.
“Yes?”
Viktor stared at him.
“So that’s all you want?”
Jayce froze.
“What?”
Viktor’s voice was quieter.
“You don’t want anything else?”
Jayce’s brain stopped.
“I—what?”
“Did you even hear what I was saying?”
Jayce swallowed.
“No.”
A pause.
Viktor closed his eyes briefly.
“Of course you didn’t.”
“Viktor, I’m sorry, I—”
“No, wait.”
Viktor looked at him.
“I need to explain this properly.”
Jayce went still.
“I wasn’t avoiding you because I didn’t want to be your friend.”
Jayce stared.
“Then why?”
Viktor looked away.
And for the first time in weeks, Jayce saw the fear.
“I realized I was falling for you.”
Everything stopped.
Jayce forgot how to breathe.
“I realized I didn’t just want to sit next to you or talk to you or have you drive me home.”
Viktor’s fingers twisted together.
“I wanted more.”
Jayce just stared.
“And that scared me.”
His voice became softer.
“Because every time I have wanted something, I have lost it.”
Jayce’s chest ached.
“So I thought if I backed away first, it would hurt less.”
A small, sad laugh escaped Viktor.
“It didn’t.”
Jayce couldn’t speak.
Viktor looked at him.
“I spent weeks trying to convince myself that I didn’t need this. That I didn’t need you.”
A pause.
“But I do.”
Jayce’s eyes widened.
“And I hate that I do because needing someone has never ended well for me.”
Viktor took a breath.
“But then I realized something.”
“What?”
“That maybe life isn’t supposed to just be about surviving everything that happens.”
His eyes met Jayce’s.
“Maybe I’m allowed to want things.”
Jayce felt tears sting his eyes.
“Maybe I’m allowed to choose something good.”
A silence.
Then Viktor whispered:
“I want you, Jayce.”
Jayce looked at him like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“You do?”
Viktor almost smiled.
“Jayce.”
“What?”
“I just told you that.”
And somehow, somehow, Jayce laughed.
A broken, relieved laugh.
“I thought you were leaving me.”
Viktor’s expression softened.
“I thought you didn’t want me.”
They both went quiet.
Because suddenly they understood.
They had both been terrified of the same thing.
Losing each other.
Jayce shook his head.
“I’ve been in love with you for months.”
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
Viktor froze.
Jayce froze.
“Oh.”
A tiny smile appeared on Viktor’s face.
“Oh?”
“I wasn’t supposed to say that yet.”
“No,” Viktor said softly. “I’m glad you did.”
And for the first time in weeks, Jayce reached for him.
Slowly.
Giving Viktor every chance to pull away.
He didn’t.
And when Viktor took his hand, Jayce realized something.
He hadn’t lost him.
He had found him.
For a while, neither of them moved.
They just sat there, hands together, staring at the space between them like it was something fragile.
Like if they moved too quickly, everything would disappear.
Jayce was still trying to process it.
Because for weeks, he had been mourning something that wasn’t even gone.
He had spent every day convincing himself that he was watching the best thing in his life slip away.
And Viktor had been doing the exact same thing.
Only Viktor had been running because he was scared of how much he cared.
Jayce let out a shaky breath.
“You really thought I didn’t want you?”
Viktor looked down.
“I didn’t know.”
“Viktor.”
“I know that sounds stupid.”
“It doesn’t.”
“It does.”
Jayce squeezed his hand gently.
“No, it doesn’t.”
Viktor was quiet.
Then, almost reluctantly, he admitted, “I’m not exactly used to people choosing me.”
The words hit Jayce harder than he expected.
Because Viktor said it so casually.
Like it was just a fact.
Like he had accepted it.
Jayce hated that.
Not Viktor.
Never Viktor.
He hated that anyone had ever made Viktor believe that.
“You know that’s not true, right?”
Viktor looked at him.
“What?”
“That you’re not someone people choose.”
Viktor’s expression shifted.
Jayce continued carefully.
“I chose you a long time ago.”
Viktor swallowed.
“Jayce…”
“I don’t mean like—”
He stopped himself.
Because actually, he did mean like that.
But he didn’t want to overwhelm him.
“I mean you became important to me before I even realized it.”
Viktor looked away.
“That’s terrifying.”
Jayce smiled sadly.
“Yeah.”
A tiny laugh escaped Viktor.
“You’re supposed to tell me something reassuring.”
“I am reassuring you.”
“No, you’re agreeing with me.”
“Because it is terrifying.”
That made Viktor look back.
Jayce smiled.
“Caring about someone is terrifying.”
A pause.
“But it’s also kind of the best thing.”
Viktor stared at him.
Jayce knew that look.
That was the look Viktor got when he was trying to understand something he wasn’t used to.
Kindness without a catch.
Affection without a price.
Someone staying without being forced.
Jayce wondered if Viktor realized how much he had changed.
Three months ago, Viktor would have never admitted any of this.
Three months ago, Viktor would have laughed it off.
Made a joke.
Changed the subject.
Pretended he didn’t care.
But now he was sitting in front of Jayce, terrified and vulnerable and honest.
And Jayce thought he was the most beautiful person he had ever met.
“I’m sorry I pulled away,” Viktor said quietly.
Jayce shook his head.
“No.”
Viktor frowned.
“No?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I understand.”
Viktor looked surprised.
“You do?”
Jayce nodded.
“Yeah.”
He hesitated.
“Not the exact same way. But I understand being scared of losing something.”
Viktor’s expression softened.
“Were you really that scared?”
Jayce laughed quietly.
“Viktor.”
“What?”
“I thought you hated me.”
“I thought you didn’t like me.”
Jayce blinked.
“What?”
Viktor looked embarrassed.
“I thought maybe I was imagining everything.”
Jayce stared.
“You thought I didn’t like you?”
“You’re very difficult to read.”
Jayce laughed.
“That is genuinely the funniest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
“Why?”
“Because you are literally the most unreadable person I’ve ever met.”
Viktor opened his mouth.
Then closed it.
Then looked away.
“Fair.”
And Jayce laughed again.
A real laugh.
The first one in weeks.
The tension that had been sitting between them finally broke.
Not completely.
Not magically.
They were still Viktor and Jayce.
They were still two people with their own fears and their own histories.
But now they weren’t hiding from each other.
Not as much.
Viktor looked down at their hands.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“Were you serious?”
Jayce tilted his head.
“About what?”
Viktor looked at him.
“When you said you’ve been in love with me.”
Jayce froze.
Because there it was.
The thing he had been trying so hard not to say.
The thing he had buried because he was afraid it would ruin everything.
And now Viktor was asking.
So Jayce decided to stop being afraid.
“Yes.”
The answer came immediately.
Viktor’s eyes softened.
“How long?”
Jayce smiled slightly.
“I don’t know.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“I know.”
Viktor waited.
Jayce looked down, thinking.
“Maybe when you started showing me all the little things.”
“The little things?”
“Yeah.”
Viktor looked confused.
“The tea.”
A tiny smile.
“The piercings.”
Another tiny smile.
“The way you get excited when you talk about your hair.”
“I do not.”
“You absolutely do.”
“I do not.”
“You do.”
Viktor rolled his eyes.
And Jayce smiled.
“Those things.”
His voice softened.
“Because I realized there was this whole person underneath everything you had survived.”
Viktor went still.
“And I wanted to know him.”
The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable.
It was full.
Viktor squeezed his hand.
“I think that’s when I started falling for you too.”
Jayce looked up.
“When?”
“When you didn’t ask.”
Jayce frowned slightly.
“What?”
“When I told you things about my past.”
Viktor’s thumb brushed over Jayce’s hand.
“You didn’t try to fix it.”
A pause.
“You didn’t tell me everything was going to be okay.”
Jayce smiled faintly.
“I mean, I wanted to.”
“I know.”
A small smile.
“But you didn’t.”
Viktor looked at him.
“You just stayed.”
And that was the thing.
The simplest thing.
The thing that meant everything.
Jayce stayed.
And Viktor, after a lifetime of people leaving, finally let himself believe that maybe someone could.
Maybe he was allowed to have something good.
Maybe he was allowed to be loved.
And maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to run from it.
*****
Being together didn’t magically make everything easy.
Jayce knew that.
If anything, he was more careful now.
Not because he was afraid of Viktor.
Because he cared about him.
Because Viktor choosing him felt like something enormous.
Jayce understood the weight of it.
This wasn’t just Viktor saying yes to a relationship.
This was Viktor, who had spent years learning that people left, deciding that Jayce was someone worth staying for.
Jayce didn’t take that lightly.
So when Viktor said, “I need this to be slow,” Jayce didn’t hesitate.
“Okay.”
Viktor looked almost suspicious.
“Okay?”
Jayce smiled.
“Yes, Viktor. Okay.”
“You’re not going to argue?”
“No.”
“Not even a little?”
Jayce shook his head.
“I want you comfortable more than I want anything else.”
And Viktor went quiet.
Because that was still something he was learning.
That Jayce could want him without demanding something from him.
That affection didn’t have to come with expectations.
So they took it slow.
Really slow.
At first, it was little things.
Sitting closer.
Holding hands.
Jayce resting his hand on Viktor’s knee while they watched movies.
Viktor slowly getting used to the fact that Jayce liked touching him.
Not because he wanted something.
Just because he liked being close.
The first time Viktor fell asleep against Jayce’s shoulder, Jayce barely moved for almost an hour.
Not because he was uncomfortable.
Because he couldn’t believe it.
This person who used to sit as far away from him as possible was now trusting him enough to fall asleep beside him.
It felt like a miracle.
And Jayce knew better than to rush miracles.
Over time, though, Viktor started letting Jayce see more.
Not the painful things.
Not yet.
The tattoo was still something untouched.
Jayce noticed.
Of course he noticed.
He noticed everything about Viktor.
But he never asked.
Never brought it up.
Because Viktor would tell him when he was ready.
Instead, Jayce got the other things.
The normal things.
The things Viktor had spent so long hiding because he wasn’t used to having the freedom to enjoy them.
He learned Viktor had strong opinions about tea.
Very strong opinions.
He learned Viktor would spend hours looking at piercing ideas online and pretending he wasn’t excited.
He learned Viktor could get completely absorbed in doing his hair.
And Jayce loved that.
Loved watching Viktor become more and more himself.
One afternoon, Jayce walked into Viktor’s apartment and stopped.
Viktor was standing in the bathroom doorway with gloves on, hair dye supplies spread across the counter.
Jayce blinked.
“What?”
Viktor looked up.
“What?”
“You’re dying your hair.”
Viktor stared at him.
“Yes?”
Jayce laughed.
“No, I know. I just—”
He pointed.
“Again?”
Viktor looked offended.
“Again?”
“You know what I mean.”
Viktor rolled his eyes.
“You knew I dyed my hair.”
“I knew you dyed your hair.”
“Every six to ten weeks.”
Jayce paused.
“I did not know the schedule.”
Viktor sighed dramatically.
“Jayce.”
“What?”
“You’ve seen my roots grow out.”
Jayce looked closer.
And then he realized.
The color was subtle.
Close enough to Viktor’s natural shade that he hadn’t really thought about it.
But now that he looked, he could see it.
The slight difference.
The roots.
“Oh.”
Viktor crossed his arms.
“You didn’t notice?”
“I noticed.”
“You did not.”
“I noticed that your hair looked good.”
Viktor tried not to smile.
Failed.
“That’s not the same thing.”
Jayce grinned.
“Okay, maybe I didn’t notice the exact timing.”
“Clearly.”
Jayce walked closer.
“So what are you doing this time?”
Viktor looked at the dye.
Then back at him.
“I’m trying something different.”
Jayce raised an eyebrow.
“Different?”
“Yeah.”
There was a tiny bit of nervousness in Viktor’s voice.
And Jayce immediately softened.
“What?”
Viktor shrugged.
“I don’t know if I’ll like it.”
Jayce looked at him.
“You’re nervous?”
“No.”
“You are.”
“I am not.”
“You are.”
Viktor sighed.
“Fine. Maybe a little.”
Jayce smiled.
“Why?”
Viktor looked down.
“I’ve just never really done something like this.”
Jayce understood what he meant.
It wasn’t just hair.
It was choice.
It was Viktor getting to decide something about himself because he wanted to.
“So what color?”
Viktor hesitated.
“Darker.”
Jayce waited.
“And more red.”
Jayce smiled.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
A small smile tugged at Viktor’s mouth.
“I think I want something warmer.”
Jayce looked at him.
And he had to remind himself not to say too much.
Because the truth was, he thought Viktor would look incredible no matter what he did.
Black hair.
Brown hair.
Red hair.
No hair.
It didn’t matter.
But this wasn’t about Jayce.
It was about Viktor.
So he just said:
“I think you should do it.”
Viktor studied him.
“You’re not going to tell me what you think?”
Jayce smiled.
“I think you’re doing something because you want to.”
A pause.
“And I like that.”
Viktor looked away.
But Jayce saw the smile.
And that was enough.
Because slowly, day by day, Viktor was learning that he was allowed to have things.
Things that were just his.
Things that made him happy.
And Jayce got to be there for it.
Not as someone saving him.
Not as someone fixing him.
Just as someone who loved him.
Someone who got to watch Viktor become more himself.
And Jayce thought that might be the best gift he’d ever been given.
*****
The thing Jayce loved most was that Viktor didn’t even realize how much he was changing.
Or maybe he did.
Maybe that was why it scared him.
Because every day, Viktor was becoming a little more comfortable being seen.
Not by everyone.
Never everyone.
Viktor was still Viktor.
He still hated crowded places.
Still crossed his arms when he was uncomfortable.
Still pretended he wasn’t bothered by things that absolutely bothered him.
Still had that instinct to disappear whenever something felt too vulnerable.
But with Jayce?
There were moments.
Tiny moments.
Like the first time Viktor casually stole one of Jayce’s hoodies.
Jayce noticed immediately.
Not because it was a big deal.
Because Viktor never borrowed things.
Not clothes.
Not anything.
“You’re wearing my hoodie.”
Viktor looked down.
“Yes.”
Jayce smiled.
“You know you own hoodies, right?”
“I know.”
“So why are you wearing mine?”
Viktor shrugged.
“It’s comfortable.”
And that was it.
Like it wasn’t the biggest thing in the world.
Like Jayce didn’t have to turn away for a second because his smile was getting ridiculous.
Because he understood what that meant.
Viktor felt safe enough to take something that belonged to Jayce and make it his.
Safe enough to leave traces of himself behind.
Safe enough to assume Jayce would still want him there afterward.
The hair dye was the same way.
Jayce stayed while Viktor mixed everything together.
He sat on the bathroom counter, watching as Viktor carefully sectioned his hair.
“You’ve done this a lot.”
Viktor glanced at him.
“Obviously.”
Jayce smiled.
“No, I mean…”
He paused.
“I just think it’s interesting.”
“What is?”
“How much you know about things you’ve never talked about.”
Viktor went quiet.
Jayce immediately regretted the wording.
“I didn’t mean—”
“No.”
Viktor looked at him.
“It’s okay.”
A pause.
“I just didn’t really have anyone to talk about things like this with.”
Jayce’s expression softened.
“Things like hair?”
“Things like anything.”
That hurt.
Not because Viktor was saying it for sympathy.
Because he wasn’t.
He was just stating a fact.
Like it was normal.
Like he had gotten used to experiencing life alone.
Jayce reached over and squeezed his hand.
“You can talk to me about things like this.”
Viktor looked at their hands.
“I know.”
And Jayce realized something.
A few months ago, Viktor would have said, You don’t have to.
Or It’s fine.
Or he would have changed the subject.
But now?
“I know.”
Two simple words.
But Jayce heard everything inside them.
When Viktor finally finished, he stared at himself in the mirror.
It wasn’t a dramatic change.
Not something that completely transformed him.
But it was different.
Darker.
Richer.
The brown had deeper tones running through it, hints of red catching when the light hit.
Jayce watched Viktor study himself.
Not like he was looking for flaws.
Like he was trying to recognize himself.
“Well?”
Jayce blinked.
“What?”
Viktor looked at him through the mirror.
“You’re staring.”
Jayce smiled.
“Yeah.”
“That’s not an answer.”
Jayce stood up.
“It looks good.”
Viktor nodded.
“Good?”
Jayce stepped closer.
“Really good.”
Viktor looked away.
Jayce laughed softly.
“You’re bad at taking compliments.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I am not.”
“You literally just looked away.”
“I’m processing.”
“You’re avoiding.”
“I’m processing.”
Jayce smiled.
“Okay.”
Viktor looked back at him.
“You’re annoying.”
“And you like me.”
The words came out teasing.
But the silence after them was different.
Because they both knew what it meant now.
Viktor looked at him for a long moment.
Then quietly said:
“Yeah.”
Jayce’s heart stopped.
Not because Viktor had said it before.
Because Viktor said it like he believed it.
Later that night, they sat on Jayce’s couch.
Nothing special.
No big moment.
Just a movie neither of them was paying attention to.
Viktor was tucked against his side, one hand resting loosely in Jayce’s.
Jayce still couldn’t believe it sometimes.
Not that Viktor loved him.
That Viktor trusted him.
There was a difference.
Love was beautiful.
But trust?
Trust was what Viktor gave carefully.
Trust was what he rebuilt piece by piece.
Jayce looked down.
“You know you can tell me things when you’re ready, right?”
Viktor stiffened slightly.
Jayce immediately clarified.
“Not about anything specific.”
He glanced at Viktor’s wrist.
Not staring.
Just acknowledging.
“Anything.”
Viktor was quiet.
For a moment, Jayce wondered if he had said too much.
Then Viktor relaxed.
“I know.”
Another pause.
“I’m trying.”
Jayce smiled softly.
“I know.”
Viktor leaned a little closer.
And that was enough.
Because Jayce knew one day Viktor would tell him.
About the things he still carried.
About the parts of himself he was afraid to show.
But Jayce wasn’t in a hurry.
He had already learned something important.
Viktor wasn’t a story that needed to be rushed.
He was a person.
And every day, he was choosing to stay.
Choosing Jayce.
And Jayce would keep choosing him right back.