110th Batch Of Fics: 9th Fill
Jayce/Viktor; Viktor/Finn – Part 9/9 – Caged cont. – Jayce and Viktor determined to make this work. What is Finn's plan in this anyway?
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Viktor is lying on his side, eyes heavy lidded and sleep dragging at the edges of his consciousness – but he does not feel safe enough to actually let himself rest. He’s staring at the door, just waiting for Finn to come in.
Jayce has laid down on the large rock formation in his massive tank and hasn’t moved for a while either, so he supposes he has finally gone to sleep as well.
Viktor closes his eyes in a slow blink. It’s a struggle to even open them again. He lets his mind wander.
He supposes that he would not have caught Finn’s eye had he not been sitting at his mother’s market stall with a book on his lap. Finn had immediately commented on it while perusing the local wares.
“What are you reading there, lass?”
“I’m sorry, sir… this is my son Viktor.”
“Oh! Oh dear… terribly, terribly sorry. Viktorrr… what a beautiful name for a… handsome young man.”
Viktor presses his lips into a tight line, still feeling the bubbling heat of resentment in his gut. The way Finn had said his name had made it feel like a caricature.
What he had been reading had been Braeden Fenthorn’s theorem of magics which had been horribly outdated already by the time Viktor had gotten his hands on an old, dusty copy sitting at the lowers shelf in the library; the shelf that they set the books on that they did not want anymore and would not mind going ‘missing’.
Finn had immediately pointed out how most of the theories in the volume had long since been disproven, and… well. Viktor could not deny that the confidence with which Finn had spoken had been quite intriguing – not to mention his wardrobe being fine and extravagant and so unlike what they were used to seeing that it easily caught the eye.
Finn was a handsome man. Easy to look at. He still is. His fascinating mechanical jaw hadn’t even been the top most interesting thing about him at the time. Viktor is a reticent little bastard, he’d be the first to admit to that even if there hadn’t been a million old playmates that would attest to that – but he had found himself intrigued by Finn’s broad wealth of knowledge first and foremost.
He’s been interested. In his brain. In his looks. He probably needs to admit that, if just to himself. He has felt pleased by the fact that Finn had shown interest in him, and he had been willing to overlook the odd ways that he would phrase things to make it ambiguous on how he referred to Viktor.
The constant shes and hers with a quick apology shoved after them, swearing to do better next time…
By the time Viktor had been actually fed up, things had moved along too far. He couldn’t back out again. Not after all the gifts and money that Finn had showered his family in. He felt bought like some kind of breeding sow, and by the odd glint in Finn’s eyes whenever he looked at him in those later stages, he felt that the other had been thinking the same.
Viktor pulls his knees up tighter to his chest. Finn had gone to the market that day to peruse the local wares and he had decided that the local ware that he wanted had been Viktor. And now here he is; on an island far away from his home with his parents long gone and probably thinking he doesn’t want anything to do with them anymore. Or that he wants to be left alone until he’s had his husband’s brood.
He doesn’t know what Finn put into those letters of his. The thought makes him sick.
His gaze wanders toward the water where Jayce is resting, thoughts slowly churning around how inadvertently he’s made this poor creature a part of Finn’s plans. He feels guilty; like he himself had cast the net and pulled Jayce onto the fishing boat. Like he himself had used a needle and hemp thread to sew his mouth shut.
Viktor closes his eyes and exhales slowly. The moon is high and he does not expect Finn to come knocking at this time of night. Maybe he really should get some shuteye and allow his body to rest and heal some more.
He’s still in the process of thinking that when he’s pulled under.
.oOo.
“Okay.” Viktor feels giddy as he finally unwinds from his hunched over position and looks at the large drawing he’s made. He grabs it and turns around toward Jayce’s tank, the Mer swimming close to the glass, his eyes bright with youthful eagerness.
“Can you read this?” Viktor asks, talking slow and loud. Jayce is already focused, eyes hopping from the large letters and the dots and dashes next to them. He nods and then also lifts up one thumb because he’s soaking information up like a sponge and Viktor has done it once half an hour ago.
Viktor feels himself flushing, giddy as a little kid. He feels like he and Jayce are sharing a lot of interest; for sciences and information in general. He uses a chair to carefully pin the paper against so they both can comfortably see, then sits on the armchair that he’s dragged over the day previous and they both stare at the table, brows furrowed.
They’ve both carefully read over the pages depicting morse code, and it is simple enough in theory, but to learn everything by heart would take a bit of time.
At some point, two girls come in; one carrying the bucket filled with Jayce’s food and the other pushing a tray with Viktor’s lunch. It’s more adventurous today with a baked casserole type of dish, so he supposes he has behaved ‘normal enough’ to warrant this upgrade in cuisine.
He has to admit that he’s quite hungry this time around. He offers Jayce some of the head sized clams, then piles a plate with food for himself and sits back down on his study chair against the comfortingly cool glass. He is inordinately pleased when Jayce appears next to him, eyes on the morse code alphabet while carelessly cracking one of the clams open with his human hands while the octopus arms carry the other loot.
Viktor shudders just thinking about how strong Jayce is. All those tales about Sirens pulling swarthy fishermen down into the depths with them…
His ears are burning and he twists a little so Jayce can’t see his face while they keep studying.
At some point, a clicking next to his ear nearly gives him a heart attack. Viktor jerks around to stare at Jayce who is using one of the discarded clam shells to gently knock against the glass.
He points toward the morse code table, then pulls his brows up at Viktor, softly hitting the glass again.
A pleasant, electric jolt races along Viktor’s crooked spine and he twists to sit with his back to Jayce and focus on the code, listening and watching, brow furrowed in concentration.
It takes quite a bit for them to figure everything out. Viktor has to use a notepad to draw out the dots and dashes, but eventually they manage to get their first word across:
Viktor.
