#beta viktor

Chapter 1 Excerpt

Things do not improve the next day. If anything, they get worse. Or better, depending on how you want to look at it. Emboldened by Viktor’s obsequiousness the previous night, Jayce seems to have come to the conclusion that it is now appropriate to be in Viktor’s space constantly.

He can’t turn around without running into Jayce’s sturdy wall of a chest, or stand in one place without Jayce coming up behind him, caging him in with his arms as he looks over Viktor’s shoulder. That is the predicament Viktor is in at this very moment, actually. They look down at—at something. Viktor isn’t sure what he’s looking at himself, right now. A wire? It’s barely into the afternoon, and already Viktor can’t think.

“What’s this?” Jayce asks, voice low. Perhaps Viktor is coming down with a fever.

“A… thing,” Viktor says eloquently.

“A thing,” Jayce echoes, warm amusement threaded through his words.

“It’s—you’re very distracting,” Viktor says, sounding harassed. “I don’t know what it is.”

“Why are you standing here with it, then?”

“I’m being held captive,” Viktor snips, “by a brute playing a scientist.”

It’s the wrong thing to say. He feels the laugh in Jayce’s chest as he presses against Viktor’s back, one of his arms coming up to wrap around Viktor’s waist. What is going on.

The hold is brief, like a tease, and then Jayce lets go and steps away from Viktor. He almost whirls around and snatches Jayce’s hand back. He misses the touch immediately, and that is not a normal thing to be feeling about his partner.

His science partner. Just a science partner. They are science partners, and this is a normal science partner thing, that normal science partners do sometimes. He is sure that he is imagining the way Jayce looks at him, like he’s hungry for something. Viktor’s fever must have progressed quite rapidly, if he’s already hallucinating.

The scent in the room is nearly suffocating, even with Jayce halfway across the lab. There are worse ways to go, Viktor supposes, than suffocating in Jayce’s fresh scent, in the warm, spicy musk enveloping him.

He can’t even leave to try to escape it. Even with the limited amount of manhandling yesterday, Viktor’s bedroom still smelled like Jayce in the morning. The man hadn’t even gone into his house.

Jayce passes by again, too close, hand trailing over Viktor’s shoulders, and Viktor’s breath hitches.

“I have a fever,” Viktor says suddenly.

“No you don’t,” Jayce says absentmindedly.

“You don’t know my body,” Viktor mutters.

“I could,” Jayce responds, and Viktor has to sit down, bury his face in his arms to hide the blush. He’s doing this on purpose. It was a mistake, he should have fled, because Jayce is invading his space again, heavy hand on his back, fingers dipping underneath the neckline of Viktor’s shirt.

Another mistake, to stop dressing so formally. He will go back to wearing ties.