dead to the power of two | OPEN

[runeing]

Who: celen's boys (aka charles and viktor), you?
Where: viktor's lab, lupin, the farm
What: viktor finally loses the battle against his illness and comes back. meanwhile, charles is learning magic (badly).
Warnings: death and dying, mentions of child abuse



PROMPTS IN COMMENTS.

▷ charles.
▷ viktor.

Comments

[runeing]

[ there is a relief to hearing that — enough so that viktor smiles, almost helplessly adoring as he turns his head to look at octavian; and once again, the words are right there, and it would be so, so painfully easy to speak them... but he doesn't, not like this, not after all of this. octavian deserves better than viktor speaking out his feelings like in gratitude, or in response — he deserves them without caveats, without any words said to viktor first.

and so instead, what he says is, ] That may be quite a while. I hope you are prepared.

[ at least he hopes so; however long they have here, his own failing health cycle aside.

still; no one else understands him in this like octavian, who knows what it is to choose and to make a choice every single day, and viktor closes his eyes against the surge of pure feeling as octavian presses his lips against his forehead. ]

There is always a choice, I know. [ just as he knows that those choices aren't always easy to make. rarely, when they are things that matter. ]

With you, it doesn't seem... too daunting.

[manifestering]

[Even that is lovely to hear, the promise laced through it, that they will be here together like this for as long as they're able. Octavian hums, smiling lightly. He could say something quippy about how the work simply never stops, but— it isn't that kind of work, being at Viktor's side. There is work, one must always put in the work, but it is the kind of work that buoys him rather than weighs on him. Work, as any relationship is, and yet being with Viktor is the most enjoyable kind there is.

So,]

I am already prepared. I know you would correct me were I to make some critical mistake.

[But they've definitely been nailing this relationship thing so far, so that doesn't feel like it's going to be a problem. He cards his fingers through Viktor's hair once more as he moves to stand, slowly, the touch lingering.]

You are eminently capable. Of this and whatever else you choose. I will be here to remind you.

[Literally and not so literally, as he looks over at the stove. Ahem,] But first I must rescue what is left of the water.

[runeing]

[ how silly, to think octavian could make any kind of a mistake that could be classified as critical, when it comes to the two of them — no, he trusts octavian implicitly, holds him so dear that there is very little he would not excuse, between them or outside of them.

what is not silly at all is the way octavian promises that there is no reason for him to prepare, for he is so already — a return of the commitment that viktor is offering him in not so many words; however long they have. whether it is days, weeks or years... this is where he wants to be. and he would never have expected it to feel so — easy, in a way, the way they are together, the comfortable understanding they have. ]

You wouldn't, [ he says, softly, with a tilt of his head; make mistakes, that is. not in anything that truly matters... or perhaps simply in his eyes.

and the rock-solid belief that octavian has in him — nobody's ever believed in me, he remembers, and yet, here he is, speaking of viktor being capable like it is something obvious.

wordlessly, he lifts his hand, touches octavian's hand with his as it lingers in his hair, takes it for a moment before he has to pull away to, ] Oh. Yes, the water.

[ he'd, hm, forgotten about that entirely. ]

[manifestering]

[Look, he can't in good conscience rule out the possibility that he might do something wrong— even something minor, even while trying his best. He is just one dead man, after all, and as easy and wonderful as being with Viktor is, he's never done this thing before. So, just in case.

It's still lovely to hear Viktor say he wouldn't, though, to hear that faith in him expressed so simply and earnestly. Even if he does make a mistake it shouldn't be a disaster; no matter how much time they have, he doesn't anticipate any earth-shattering errors. Just this, more of this, on and on and on.

And also the pasta. He huffs his quiet little laugh and catches Viktor's hand again, tilting down to kiss the backs of his fingers. Yes, the water, one of them does have to eat.]

I promise I will make it worth your while. [To eat these noodles and spend the twenty minutes or so not holding his hands.] You must eat. Later I will even convince you to sleep.

[Look forward to it! Anyway, let him go put pasta in this pot. Cooking.]

[runeing]

[ that quiet little laugh, as it turns out, is on its own enough to fill viktor's heart, like it isn't blood cells and oxygen and a number of other things in the veins that circulate the blood through his heart but something else entirely; like he's woken up from death and instead of needing air or water or food, that little laugh alone is enough to sustain this new body of his.

a romantic thought, that, if untrue; octavian kisses the backs of his hands softly before letting go, and viktor stares at him, transfixed, before saying, ]

I was unable to knowingly miss you while I was dead, but I believe whatever part of me remained in this simulation, waiting to be brought back... I believe that part wanted nothing more than to be here with you.

[ read: yes, he's going to eat, and sit here waiting for octavian to finish cooking. he would argue against sleep, but, hm, he also doesn't want to argue with octavian about anything... so perhaps, perhaps.

for now, though, he will sit right here and wait. ]

[manifestering]

[It's lucky— for this pasta, specifically— that Octavian has already moved away to deal with the food, or else Viktor saying all of that right now would have drawn him right back in to kiss his hands and stare at him adoringly for the rest of the night and then some. And while that wouldn't be a terrible way to spend time at all, it's still true that Viktor needs to eat something.

So, the pasta, but he does pause to wrap that feeling up and tuck it away for a rainy day, just in case. Then he hums, still busy with the pot.]

Romantic. You are eminently distracting. [Lightly chiding, if not at all serious; please, let him make these noodles, it's moderately important.] All that is left of my heart is yours.

[Things to say while stirring pasta. Anyway, give him a few minutes to return with Buttered Noodles in a bowl, and a fork. He delivers these to Viktor and sits next to him on the couch, close enough to touch as always. Immediately, his fingers go back into Viktor's hair.]

Eat.

[runeing]

So are you, [ comes the immediate response — because octavian need not do anything else but simply be and he will be distracting enough, command all of viktor's attention; even now, his eyes follow his movements in the kitchen.

though he has to look away, then, when octavian decides to say that while stirring pasta, of all things, and really, who's the one who's romantic, here? as ever, viktor finds it easier to say things than to hear them said back to him, and looks down, trying to commit the exact cadence of octavian's voice to memory, so that he can always remember those words, so simply said and yet meaning the world to him.

in any case, give him a moment to stare with adoration as octavian finishes cooking the pasta; and when it's delivered to him, he sets the fork in the bowl and the bowl in his lap, to turn to octavian, lifting his hand to touch the side of his face tenderly. ]

Thank you. [ a pause. ] I still have all of my heart left, I believe, and all of it is yours, too.

[ don't mind him if he's leaning in to press a kiss to octavian's lips, then, before drawing back and reaching for the noodles; wouldn't do if they went cold, would it? ]

[manifestering]

[This is still not eating, good gracious— not that Octavian does anything more than huff lightly, amused even as he leans into Viktor's touch. The words and the kiss are so profoundly sweet that he feels all over again the depth of how much Viktor's absence this past week has affected him; even knowing in advance, the hollow feeling of it...

Well, Viktor isn't going anywhere tonight, that much is certain. Octavian wriggles an arm around his waist and leans his head against his shoulder, which isn't the optimal place for him to be so Viktor can eat the dang noodles, but at least Viktor's hands are still free.]

I imagine tomorrow will be a busy day for you.

[Because surely at least some of the people from his world will want to talk or something, and Octavian can't actually monopolize all of his time. But,]

After that however. We can continue our project. [wobbles.]

🎀

[runeing]

[ it doesn't matter that it isn't optimal — it is exactly where he should be, and with the arm around his waist and the head against his shoulder, viktor feels tethered, instead of adrift, like his recent death has not returned him here entirely whole, like a part of him has not been truly here until this very moment, settling back into place with octavian's help.

for a moment, he thinks of what it might have been like, dying without octavian here to ground him; he doesn't want to entertain the thought long. ]

Yes, [ he says, to both of these things, one of them more pleasant than the other. ] I will return to the lab in the morning... but I will be back. And if I can stay, that would be — good.

[ he doesn't exactly want to be in his lab, right now. not with how suffocating it feels, there.

but for now, let him eat these noodles, let them sit here together, let him tilt his head to the side to rest against octavian's once the food is consumed. there are many people out there who he needs to talk to... but not right now. not tonight. right here, only octavian matters. ]