Chapter Text
Christmas Eve 2012 (Present)
Jayce has been clutching the same puzzle piece for at least five minutes.
It doesn't help that his mother is patting his knee under the table while she tries too hard to seem unbothered by his mood.
He can't make it fit anywhere. There are so many others he could pick up instead, but he doesn't want to. He wants this one to fit. If this one won't fit, then he doesn't want to continue with this at all.
* * *
Christmas Eve 2008
"No, mamá, they just said it's only going to get worse outside…yeah, like, ten minutes ago?"
Jayce drags a hand down his face in quiet exasperation and keeps nodding along to whatever his mother is saying on the other end of the line. His hair is already sticking up in ten different directions from hours stressing over the weather and traffic on the radio and from his mother calling about a dozen times; Viktor has stopped counting.
He's sprawled across Jayce's sofa, playing with the frayed hem of his sweater, tea cooling on one of the stacks of books that made up his makeshift end table (Jayce said it was temporary when he moved into this place over a year ago, and since then, the stacks have only grown in numbers).
String lights are hung on the fireplace mantle, twinkling and casting long lines in Viktor's vision, and a tiny Charlie Brown Christmas tree sits in the corner, complete with a little Rio ornament that Viktor gifted him earlier tonight.
Though ornament was putting it nicely, what Viktor had actually done was put a tiny dollar store Santa hat on Rio, appeased her enough with some treats to get her to look like she didn't want to murder him on camera, cropped her little face out on his computer, and printed that photo out twice at the library. He'd cut her out, stuck her to both sides of some cardboard, laminated the whole thing, poked a hole through her hat's bobble, and threaded a red ribbon through.
It was, admittedly, rather ugly. But when Viktor placed it in Jayce's hand, Jayce's face lit up, and he pinched the top of the ribbon and watched the ornament twirl. And Viktor watched Jayce's smile widen and eventually turn into a bubbly laugh before he wrapped Viktor in his arms and squeezed him tight.
Jayce was always so warm.
"I love it, V," Jayce smiled when he let go of him.
Viktor waved him off. "It is silly. Printed on library paper."
"Are you kidding me? It's perfect!" Jayce had turned around to put Paper Rio up on his tree. The branch looked precariously fragile beneath it.
Viktor leaned forward on his cane, inspecting the misery. "I would hardly call that perfect." He sighed. "But I am glad you enjoy it."
"Perfect for my tree, though." He grinned at Viktor. "And it doesn't need to be perfect for me to love it."
Viktor looked away and swallowed. "Eh, turning into Mister Philosopher?"
Jayce only shrugged, grabbed Rio gently from her spot on the sofa's armrest, and held her directly in front of the ornament so they could have a face-off. "Yeah, that's you, pretty princess! Thanks for letting your dad torment you for this," he cooed with a voice Viktor only ever heard him use on her.
When Jayce then placed a kiss on her little head, he felt a tug on his heartstrings.
Hard to believe there had been a time in the not-so-far-away past before Jayce became his best friend, before Viktor had found a kitten with a chewed ear in the trash, before—
Breakeven started blasting from Jayce's phone, announcing yet another call from Ximena Talis.
Viktor knows the phone call is almost over when he hears the pacing behind him stop.
"Love you too, mamá. No, yeah, we'll talk tomorrow. Merry Christmas. Love you. Bye. You too. Bye!"
Viktor barely manages to pull his legs toward his middle with a wince before Jayce flops down on the seat next to him with a long sigh and lets his head fall back against the cushion, eyes inspecting the ceiling. Maybe his hair stands up in eleven different directions now.
"So?" Viktor drawls, arching an eyebrow at his friend. He shifts. His legs don't like the newly cramped position.
"So," Jayce says, "my mom has finally accepted that having her only son on the roads in a literal blizzard might not be the best thing for her nerves." He exhales. "So, that means I'm not going home. Which means you and I are stuck here together! And Rio, of course," Jayce says, rubbing underneath her chin.
Viktor doesn't know what to say. Or think, so he stays quiet, but his head starts buzzing. Christmas with Jayce?
When Jayce finally turns his head over to look at him, his eyes glimmer with something like joy, or maybe mischief. Weird, Viktor thinks. He would have thought Jayce would be pretty devastated not seeing his mother over Christmas.
Because Jayce has a home to return to. He has a mother to hug, and aunts and uncles and cousins, and a childhood bedroom that, according to Jayce, still looks the same as the year he moved out because his mother is too sentimental. Viktor didn't voice it then, but he thought that the same could be said about Jayce.
Viktor looks at Jayce, and Jayce looks back at Viktor with huge, round eyes.
"Ah, you said earlier you have been eating cereal without milk since yesterday because you have nothing in your fridge and did not want to go buy more food because you were going home," Viktor rambles, glancing back down at the hem of his sweater. "Rather sad for Christmas, no?"
Jayce nods. "Incredibly, which is why I'm gonna run out really quick and grab some provisions at the store before we're completely snowed in." He pushes himself up on his elbow to look out the window, brows furrowing.
Viktor follows his gaze and feels his heart sink a little. He can hardly see anything except for wild white. It doesn't look very inviting.
When he looks at Jayce again, he catches a glimpse of Jayce chewing on his bottom lip before whatever this expression was disappears and a smile takes its place. Jayce stands up with so much momentum that it makes Viktor a little jealous.
Viktor starts to maneuver his legs to the floor too, but Jayce immediately lifts them back up to the spot he'd been resting in.
"Stay." His eyes are warm. "Don't want the little gremlin to attack her own likeness." As if prompted, Rio curls into herself next to Viktor's hip again, probably disgruntled by all the movement around her. "I'll be back before you finish your tea!"
Jayce quickly moves towards the coat rack, pulling a red knit university hat over his ears. "Any special requests?" He turns to look at Viktor again, putting one foot into his boot and then the other.
Viktor shakes his head. There are mostly students living in this neighborhood, and almost everyone goes home over the holidays, so he can't imagine their beloved corner store is even open. They've been known to wander the aisles in the wee hours of the morning, when he and Jayce have pulled all-nighters and were in desperate need of sugar and caffeine and ingredients for sweet milk. But right now, he can't think of anything.
Jayce gives him a two-finger salute, and then he's out the door, and Viktor sinks into the pillows again, his hand absentmindedly petting Rio.
He knows watching Rio is a bit of an excuse. Viktor's always made it clear that he won't be pitied or belittled, and as his recent best friend, Jayce has always abided by this without any bigger incidents. But he can also appreciate Jayce trying to prevent his body from aching further by traversing through the cold and heavy snowfall. Plus Jayce's couch is really fucking comfortable. He just hopes he makes it back okay.
On his last sip of tea, the door handle jiggles, and Jayce comes tumbling in with two bags in hand.
"Success!" He sets the bags down on the floor and immediately launches into the haul.
Viktor tries to tell him to maybe take off his wet boots first. Or the hat or the coat or—well, Jayce's joggers are soaked halfway up his shins. He must be freezing.
But Jayce is already producing the precious goods, seemingly oblivious, but jittery at the same time. "I got bread and eggs—boring, I know, but we'll definitely need breakfast because it's gonna keep snowing—two frozen veggie pizzas, dill-pickle kettle chips—your favorite," Jayce says, clearly making a face. He thinks they smell funny, but he's bought them anyway.
"…mulled wine, and…" he's happily rubbing his hands, waiting for Viktor to join him in his excitement, and Viktor humors him by sitting up straighter, "…a puzzle!" Jayce shakes the large box like ta-da!
Viktor eyes him and the box. The image on it is absurd: dogs playing poker.
"It's dogs. Playing poker!" Jayce grins boyishly at Viktor, who is still eyeing the box.
Viktor arches one eyebrow. "Uh-huh, I can see that," stifling a giggle now because of the way Jayce is still standing there, dripping wet from the snow, but grinning so proudly with the puzzle box in hand. Viktor moves to take it from him to inspect it, and Jayce finally starts to rid himself of his coat.
"I thought we could do one together." Jayce clears his throat. He's looking very intently at his boots. "We actually do, er, well, did puzzles every Christmas Eve, my dad and I. Before he passed, obviously." His hands have stilled halfway through untying his boots.
Viktor understands.
"Since then, it's just been my mom and me on Christmas Eve. And, like, every year she'd buy me the most ridiculous puzzle she could find, probably as a way to try and make me think of happier times."
Viktor can see his Adam's apple bob and the smile drop. He doesn't interrupt. Jayce doesn't talk about his father much, just like Viktor doesn't talk about his parents much.
When Jayce finally meets his eyes again, that mischievous look on his face is fighting its way back. "Anyway, I guess you could say it's a tradition, and you're about to be indoctrinated into the Talis way tonight."
Viktor squints at Jayce, his nose crinkling slightly. "Alright. We can do your silly Talis dog puzzle," Jayce lifts his hands protesting the silly, "but can we please crack open the mulled wine first? I do not think I can be sober and look at this for hours."
"Deal!"
"And Jayce?"
"Mhm?"
"Your pants are wet. You are going to get sick. And then you will get me sick, and I will blame you for the entire next semester."
"That's not how that works!" Jayce looks down on himself, "…but I probably should get changed."
Finally feeling somewhat accomplished, Viktor exhales while Jayce turns on the stove, empties the first bottle of wine into a pot to heat up, preheats the oven for the pizzas, and disappears into his bedroom.
When he reappears, it's in one of the ugliest Christmas sweaters Viktor has ever seen.
"Jayce. Why is there an oversized reindeer vomiting candy canes and baubles on your chest?" Viktor hiccups between the snorts he's usually mortified about, but he definitely doesn't care about that right now.
Jayce pretends to be offended. "Because it's Christmas? I'm getting festive!"
"This is not festive, this is an eyesore!"
Jayce gasps and pats his chest where the reindeer's head is stitched on and murmurs, "He doesn't mean it like that," before throwing something at Viktor's face.
Viktor yelps.
"Congrats, you get to be a festive eyesore with me!"
Before Viktor starts to argue without even looking at the thing, Jayce puts one finger up. "No Christmas sweater, no mulled wine. Those are the rules. Sorry."
Viktor clicks his tongue. "The Talis family rules?"
"…the new Talis family rules. Never stop inventing!"
Viktor lets out an exaggerated sigh. He doesn't mind, actually. At all.
And when he unfolds the sweater, he sees big bold letters between the reindeer and bells and snowflakes and Christmas trees that read:
PLUTO
1930-2006
It's so stupid, and Jayce grins at him again, Viktor just shakes his head.
"I had no idea that Pluto losing its planetary status shook you that much."
"You weren't paying attention then," Jayce says, his tone is teasing, but also, maybe Viktor really hadn't paid attention.
"No, actually, Cait got it for me, because she thought like 'Oh, science', I guess?"
Viktor snorts again. "Does she think you study astronomy?"
"She was, like, twelve!"
Jayce does like the stars. In late October, they'd been lucky enough to catch a meteor shower on the outskirts of the city. They'd sat on the hood of Jayce's car and watched the sky.
Viktor remembers how Jayce's eyes had sparkled even though it'd been so dark.
It really had been beautiful.
"Earth to Viktor…?" Jayce waves a hand in front of his face, his boyish grin returning.
"Hmm?" Viktor's eyes brighten. "Ah–sorry," he pulls his own frayed sweater off, drapes it over the armrest, and pulls the terrible Pluto sweater over his lean frame. He can feel the static, his hair now flying every which way, similarly to Jayce's. The sweater is approximately three sizes too big, because it immediately starts sliding down one shoulder. At least it's not scratchy.
"Now that we have on proper attire, should we break this out?" Viktor moves to pour the puzzle pieces on the floor.
He expects Jayce to join him, eager as he just was, but when Viktor's eyes flick up again from the cardboard mess in front of him, Jayce hasn't moved. Instead, he's just kind of…looking at Viktor, the ghost of a smile sitting where the grin was before. He doesn't seem to notice Viktor is looking at him, waiting for him. It isn't until Viktor lightly pokes his foot with his cane that Jayce startles and shakes off whatever that was.
"Well, now who is lost in space?"
"Ha, ha. I was just thinking," he gestures at Viktor now, "how you're literally drowning in Pluto right now." He nudges Viktor's foot with his own. "The dwarf planet is still big enough to swallow you!"
Viktor pinches the bridge of his nose and groans. "Please pour us some wine before I suffocate you with your own pillows." He braces himself and carefully scoots down onto the floor, putting a pillow between his back and the couch and propping his leg on another, puzzle pieces now spread in front of him.
The blizzard's freezing temperatures don't reach them in here, but Viktor still feels the cold in his bones. His hips and knees have been feeling like they're on fire since yesterday. His back aches. But he's also about to spend the first Christmas Eve in years with someone else. With a friend. With a friend who lets him in on family traditions, even though they only met this year.
So Viktor aches, but he promises himself he's going to enjoy this. If this is the only Christmas he'll get to not spend by himself, he's not going to waste his time on his pain. He'll try, at least.
"Yeah, yeah!" Jayce fills their cups, hands one to Viktor, and flops down on the floor opposite him, only to immediately get up again. "Wait, before we begin…" It takes him a minute to find his laptop and another for Feliz Navidad to start playing from the computer's shitty speaker.
"Okay. Now it's a Talis Christmas."
They both raise their mugs as the cheerful guitar and bell sounds permeate the apartment.
It's funny how Viktor immediately feels so warm, even before the sweet wine hits his tongue. He could blame it on the hot temperature of the mug. If he's being honest with himself though, it's because he's having a Talis Christmas—it hits him all at once. Again. He quickly blinks a few times.
After one glass of wine (which Jayce finds way too sweet and Viktor just right), they've effectively sorted all the colors and edge pieces. Jayce insists this is the right strategy, and Viktor decides to trust him. He hasn't touched a puzzle in…actually, he has no idea how long it's been, probably before he even moved to the US. So he follows Jayce's lead. He's too warm to protest.
"There are too many earth tones in here," Jayce complains after refilling their cups. He's on his belly now, head in his hands and feet in the air, eyebrows furrowing in concentration. "I didn't even consider that half the pieces are gonna be some kind of brown and black and beige color!"
They brood over the pieces for a good while, the smell of spices and sweetness occasionally clouding Viktor's senses. He's not sure he'll ever get another moment like this, so Viktor takes a mental snapshot of the scene. He wants to always be able to come back to this.
* * *
"Annnnnd—voilà!" Jayce exclaims as he places the last piece of the outer frame. You can't even see a dog's face yet. Or poker cards. Viktor's been a bit slower to place the pieces together, and his energy is wavering a bit. But Jayce looks so endearingly happy about the borders being done that he doesn't care all that much.
Rio jumps down from the armrest of the sofa and stretches out in between them, tail waving from side to side while rubbing her head against Jayce's shoulder.
"Oh hi, pretty princess, come to help out?" Jayce coos and cranes his neck to pepper her with kisses.
Viktor glances up from the puzzle frame. Maybe it's the wine, but he can't help but look adoringly at them both. An uneven blush starts to creep up his neck and onto his cheeks, the core of his chest now warmer than before.
He wonders if Jayce can feel the heat radiating from his body, if Jayce can hear his heart beating a little faster.
It's definitely the wine. The weather and wine and evading loneliness playing tricks on him, compounding the ache in his body. Yeah, that's it.
"I'm wondering if…we could have some pizza soon?" Viktor asks over the sounds of his grumbling stomach, stretching his arms in front of him and leaning from side to side. It gives him something else to think about, too.
Jayce's eyes widen. "Oh shit! I preheated the oven and completely forgot. I'll pop them in now, don't move!" He runs to the kitchen, and Viktor hears rustling noises as Rio complains and settles back on the sofa behind him.
Her tail flicks against his cheek, and he closes his eyes for a second. His knee feels like it's being stabbed from behind, and he shifts his leg on the pillow. It doesn't help much.
He opens his eyes again as he feels Jayce drop down on the floor next to him, close enough that their elbows brush when Jayce balances a huge wooden cutting board on their thighs. When the pizzas start to slide down on Viktor's side because Jayce's thighs are twice the size of Viktor's, Jayce pulls the whole board onto his own lap.
"Bon Appétit! Gourmet Christmas dinner." He also hands Viktor a small brown bowl with the pickle chips and wrinkles his nose. "Please keep them far away from me, thanks."
Viktor snorts. "What's with all the French tonight?" he asks before popping a chip into his mouth. Sour. Dill-y. Perfect.
"Dunno," Jayce shrugs. "Guess the alcohol makes my inner polyglot come out? I took a year of French in high school," he licks pizza sauce off his bottom lip.
"Me too!" The memory feels so far away, even if it wasn't all that long ago. "But I was not very good at it." There was no good reason for Viktor to learn it either. Back in Czechia, he'd hoped to study in the US, so any language other than English hadn't really been his priority.
Then, he has an idea.
"Want to learn some Czech, Mister Polyglot?"
Jayce has his mouth full of pizza, so he hums around it and nods enthusiastically.
"Hell yeah I do," he says, bright and earnest. His eyes light up in a way that makes that warmth in Viktor's chest more noticeable again.
Jayce sets the pizza board down between them and folds his long legs to shift and face Viktor fully.
One thing about Jayce that Viktor noticed right away when they first met was his intensity. He's always fully committed, always giving his full attention to whoever or whatever is currently in front of him.
And Viktor is in front of him.
"Teach me, Vik. Teach me everything. I'm gonna be so good at this."
Viktor snorts. "Confident, eh? We shall see." But he does appreciate the enthusiasm.
"Wow," Jayce says, grinning, utterly unoffended. "Zero faith in me. I see how it is. Ever heard of Christmas miracles?"
He schools his face into a more serious expression. "No, all we have in Czechia for Christmas is snow and sadness. And carps."
"Well yeah, I think everyone everywhere has carbs for Christmas, like, a million of them," Jayce laughs.
Viktor shakes his head. "No, carps. Like the fish. We eat carp soup and fried carp on Christmas Eve."
"Oh!" Jayce looks down at the pizza between them. "This isn't quite…carp." He takes another bite.
"I, ah, actually never liked it much." He shrugs, a twisted smile on his lips. "I don't like fish. But sitting together as a family around the dinner table…it was nice."
He can see Jayce's shoulders sag, his brows furrowing, a concerned look creeping on his face. Viktor wants to gently wipe it off his face.
"Ehem. Okay", Viktor holds up a finger, "Important phrase first: Merry Christmas. We say Veselé Vánoce."
Jayce's face goes from concerned about Viktor to concerned about Czech consonants and vowels. He repeats it instantly. "Veh-selly van-oh-see!"
Viktor winces, then laughs.
Jayce blinks, "Hey! I'm trying!"
"No, no, I know, you're doing great!" Viktor inhales and exhales slowly. "Sorry. You need to…slow down a little. The 'ce' is hard."
Jayce sighs. "Yeah, tell me about it."
Viktor says it again, and again, and Jayce repeats, leaning a little bit closer each time, observing Viktor's lips, which Viktor tries really hard not to notice.
Then Jayce says, "Veh-seh-leh…vah-no-tseh." And he smiles so bright that Viktor can't bring himself to correct him anymore. It doesn't matter. It's good enough because Jayce always makes the effort, and Jayce's eyes are earnest, and he's sitting so close, his knees bouncing while sitting cross-legged. Jayce smells so good, he always does. Viktor's chest feels tight, and he shifts slightly to give some room.
"That was…better. Acceptable," Viktor says, nodding generously. "But you promised to be 'so good'. You will need to prove yourself."
"Okay, okay," Jayce replies, grinning. "What else, then? Give me another. I wanna sound legit."
"Jsem ospalý."
"Sem os-pah-lee."
Viktor forms a smile and lets his head fall back against the sofa.
"Hmmm, very good." It isn't.
"It means…?"
"Ah, it means, 'I'm sleepy.'" Viktor's gaze softens. He feels he could get pulled into a slumber on the floor if they sit here any longer.
Jayce nudges Viktor with his knee, a sweet smile on his face like Viktor has just offered him a precious gift instead of a handful of unfamiliar consonants. "Are you?"
"Mhmmm, unfortunately." As if on cue, a yawn escapes him, and he covers his mouth with his hand. "But I would feel bad about your puzzle. The dogs have not even gotten started on their game."
His eyes are half-lidded now, his brain truly starting to feel sluggish. The wine has settled heavily and pleasantly in his veins, and the day and cold have caught up with him all at once. His fingers massage around his knee and thigh. It's less for relief and more for comfort. Jayce's laptop is still playing music, bells and pianos and guitars going off in the background.
"That's okay, it usually takes us a few days to finish them anyway," Jayce joins in on the yawning now, his eyes crinkling.
One glance at the window tells both of them that they'll probably also have all of tomorrow in here. The snow is now towering on the windowsill, already blocking a good few inches of the usual view of Jayce's street. The howling against the windows is a good reminder that leaving is not an option.
Viktor shivers. He's glad he doesn't have to walk home tonight.
The evening winds down gently in the following minutes—Jayce rummaging around them, gathering up used napkins and mugs. Pizza crusts are abandoned while Paul McCartney blasts on the awful speakers. The puzzle remains unfinished, color-sorted piles carefully stacked back into the box by Viktor so they can continue tomorrow without Rio destroying their hard work overnight.
Eventually, Jayce stretches and gets up with almost offensive ease. Viktor blinks, the reindeer on Jayce's sweater moving with him. Then, Jayce holds out both his hands to Viktor.
Viktor swallows, plants his feet on the floor, and lets Jayce pull him up.
Jayce puts too much force into it, and suddenly Viktor is pressed to Jayce's chest and can feel his breath on his hair. His hands are still in Jayce's. Warm.
For a split second, Viktor thinks about tilting his head up and pressing a kiss to Jayce's cheek.
God, the wine. It makes him a little stupid, and he casts the thought aside immediately. He feels the blush bloom its way upward again, so he pulls back his hands and clears his throat. He doesn't dare look up at Jayce now.
"Pass me my cane?" He manages to get out, voice surprisingly stable.
Jayce does, and the moment passes. Viktor can breathe again, even if his leg aches something fierce now that he's upright again. Damn wine and damn blizzard.
"Sem oss-pah-lee?" Jayce asks as they move into the hallway, his pronunciation is still wrong and the grammar doesn't make sense for a question, but Viktor is impressed that he remembers it at all.
"Jsem ospalý, yes."
The apartment is quiet now, lights off except the Christmas lights in the living room spilling their soft yellow onto their feet. There's music playing somewhere else in the building.
Jayce gestures toward his bedroom. "You take the bed, I'll crash on the couch."
"I cannot—" Viktor begins to protest.
"Viktor," Jayce says, "It's Christmas. Plus, my mom would kill me if she knew I let a guest sleep on the couch." He's polite enough not to mention it, but they both know it wouldn't be the first time Viktor's slept in Jayce's bed. Jayce has never let him walk home after an all-nighter.
And frankly, Viktor is too tired—bone-deep tired—to argue. He wants to sleep in a bed. He doesn't want to think about his back and leg being worse tomorrow because the couch was too soft and narrow.
It's also…nice to have someone care.
"…Thank you, then," he says instead.
Jayce shrugs. "Of course." But instead of moving back toward the living room, Jayce lingers there, all tall and rumpled and his hair still sticking up in all directions. Viktor notices the way Jayce slightly rocks on his heels, like he still has something on his mind.
Viktor, unfortunately, also has things on his mind.
Jayce clears his throat and bends down, pulling something from behind the coat rack that Viktor can't make out in the semi-dark of the hallway.
"Uh," he says, then takes a breath. "Vehsehleh Vahnotseh, Viktor."
It takes Viktor a second to process because he's so exhausted by now, struggling to stand upright and leaning heavily on his cane. But then he smiles, while also feeling something in his chest crack like ice, sharp and sudden.
No one has said that to him in Czech in years, except when he was making Jayce parrot him earlier. Not since before hospitals and funerals and the long, quiet winters that followed. Hearing it now—pronounced badly, stretched in the wrong places, but also spoken so sweetly, by someone he cares about and who, probably, maybe, cares about him too—hits him square in the chest.
Jayce shifts again, then brings a hand forward, revealing a jar of pickles. A cheap kind from the corner store.
"I didn't think, uh," rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. "I mean, I wasn't gonna be home, but then I was, and so were you, and everything was closed. But then I figured, you know, pickles. You like pickles." Jayce exhales. "Yeah, it's dumb."
Viktor stares at the jar, then back at Jayce. Then he laughs and takes the pickles from him.
A Christmas present.
Viktor shakes his head. "Not dumb. They are wonderful." And he means it.
"Yeah?"
"Yes. Thank you."
He can feel the tension drain from Jayce as his expression softens again. But it doesn't last long, because he starts digging for something in his pockets as Viktor stifles another yawn.
"Here!" Jayce exclaims, placing a puzzle piece on the jar's lid.
Viktor blinks repeatedly. "Why…?"
"It's a promise. That we finish this together."
Oh.
"…Of course. Yes." He pockets it and tells himself he is not going to think about this.
"Veselé Vánoce, Jayce."
"Merry Christmas, Vik."
* * *
Outside, the winter storm rages on.
Inside, Viktor feels nothing but warmth.
