Chapter Text
It had taken a full year after the battle for Jayce to start putting on weight again. Months of struggling to keep the meat he ate down, his sleep being fitful at best and non-existent at worst, and feeling a constant need to do, to be up and moving and working to keep the two of them safe, had all kept him just as bony and pale as he had been once he'd crawled out of that ravine.
Quietly, Viktor had put blame on himself for the length of Jayce's recovery—not only for his key role in Jayce’s suffering, but in his inability to dedicate himself fully to the man’s care, when he himself could barely function in his newly-human body. He had always felt that he could no longer be the partner Jayce needed, but somehow, he continued to be the partner Jayce wanted, so he forced himself not to retreat into his own self-loathing and stick it out.
So, when evidence of their constant stagger towards healthy living had first started to show, elbows and ribs no longer poking him when Jayce curled around him to sleep, he couldn’t help but weep—and again the next morning, when Jayce sat hunched over on the bed to put his brace on, revealing a not-insignificant fold of skin on his stomach. Jayce had tried to comfort him and insisted it was no big deal, but even he couldn’t hide that flush of pride.
The weight did not distribute itself the same way it used to, creating a stable foundation for tightly wound muscles; instead, as his body started to rest with his mind, it became softer, more pliable. No longer was he an immovable bronze statue, an icon of impossible standards and impossible dreams. Now, he was a regular, comfortable man, relaxed without the pressure of endless performance. Hair grew wherever it pleased, and instead of scorching his skin clear like he had before, he trimmed it softly, tending to his body like a sacred garden.
Viktor tended to him in much the same way.
Nighttime was, and likely always would be tricky for Jayce, the darkness and the quiet bringing him somewhere far away, stranded and alone. Having Viktor with him every night had already seemed to help a little, but what really helped make a positive connection to nighttime was… well, not resting.
Neither of them had been particularly confident in showing their bodies to each other at first, or in letting themselves be touched. But the unconditional devotion and genuine, burning desire that they held for each other persevered over both their insecurities more often than not.
That didn’t waver when Jayce started gaining weight; if anything, it drove them both to be bolder.
With his bones no longer visible through his skin, Jayce felt safer being caressed down his ticklish sides and over his tender stomach. He let himself relax fully into the experience, closing his eyes to immerse himself in whatever sensation Viktor lavished upon him. And lavish Viktor did, kissing every inch of skin he could access whenever possible, running his hands over the curves and folds in reverence, relishing in every shiver and gasp he coaxed out as he explored.
Jayce’s body had always been his most treasured view, even back when he could only catch glimpses of it, coated in sweat and soot after a hard day at the forge. Now that he had near-unlimited access to it, he treasured every inch, committed every detail to memory. He adored it in every state: soft, warm, and cuddly in the mornings; water running down the folds of his stomach and back in the shower; strong and heaving, his shirt stuck to him with sweat as he worked in the garden or on cottage repairs; and, of course, when he collapsed into bed after a long day of simple-living, stretching himself over the bed and relaxing into it as Viktor touched him.
His favourite places to work were Jayce’s sensitive, ever-expansive chest, and between those powerful thighs. Both areas were coated in a thick forest of soft hair, irresistible to rub against his cheek or tangle his fingers in. He loved to kneed both his pecs and his thighs, working the muscles underneath until they were as loose as liquid, all the while servicing his nipples or crotch with his mouth.
The way Jayce’s stomach fluttered when he was close to finishing might have been his favourite sight of them all, combined with the open, unrestrained euphoria on his face.
If Viktor hadn’t already finished himself just by grinding on the mattress, they’d lie side-by-side, face-to-face while Jayce used those thick, sturdy hands on him, one playing between his legs and the other holding his neck to keep their eyes level. Viktor would wrap his legs around Jayce’s wide hip to feel him even closer, impossibly so, and he would finish with the same chorus from his lips every time: “You’re so beautiful, I love you, you’re perfect, I love you.”
Exhausted and a little sticky, they embraced to fall asleep every night, Viktor buried under Jayce’s weight. It reminded him that this was real; that his partner was safe, healthy, and happy; content and thriving, able to finally relax; full of food that he could stomach easily, never again to be starving or wasting away.
That Viktor could, and would, dedicate his life from then on to keeping it that way.