[ somehow, it is not the initial kiss but rather that second press of lips against his forehead that makes viktor feel like maybe his body has come back wrong, that what he is is ready to melt into a pile right here, right now — but, no, it's just octavian being impossibly sweet and lovely, and him having somehow forgotten during that week of non-existence how it feels, to be close to him like this.
the slightest edge of an apology in his voice makes viktor raise his brows slightly and say, dryly but gently, ] I'm not an invalid, Octavian.
[ dying seems to have brought him back to the baseline he'd been after claude's treatment — certainly better than he'd been upon arrival, at first, and what strangeness he is feeling after dying seems to be solely located inside his mind, not elsewhere in his body.
in any case, walking the short distance isn't terrible; he walked the whole way here from his lab, after all. what is worse than that is the knowledge that he would much rather pull octavian to sit next to him on the couch than let him go to the kitchen, but he seems adamant about cooking, and viktor is hungry.
so he sits down, leans against the cushions and says, ] Whatever you want to make. I'm not picky.
[ and that is true — he has a sneaking suspicion octavian would shudder at the sight of what jericho sells in the undercity. for a few seconds, he laments over the fact he can never see that happen, because he can imagine the face octavian would make, and it is very cute, imaginary as it is. ]
no subject
the slightest edge of an apology in his voice makes viktor raise his brows slightly and say, dryly but gently, ] I'm not an invalid, Octavian.
[ dying seems to have brought him back to the baseline he'd been after claude's treatment — certainly better than he'd been upon arrival, at first, and what strangeness he is feeling after dying seems to be solely located inside his mind, not elsewhere in his body.
in any case, walking the short distance isn't terrible; he walked the whole way here from his lab, after all. what is worse than that is the knowledge that he would much rather pull octavian to sit next to him on the couch than let him go to the kitchen, but he seems adamant about cooking, and viktor is hungry.
so he sits down, leans against the cushions and says, ] Whatever you want to make. I'm not picky.
[ and that is true — he has a sneaking suspicion octavian would shudder at the sight of what jericho sells in the undercity. for a few seconds, he laments over the fact he can never see that happen, because he can imagine the face octavian would make, and it is very cute, imaginary as it is. ]