Sooo... this is only about 1,000 words for a reason guys. Next chapter is gonna be the reason this fic is M, and I didn't want to include it in this little update. Just consider this a promise of things to come.
-Daft
In the weeks surrounding Christmas, Viktor was at his loneliest. He had not seen Mordecai for longer than he would have liked- not since that first night behind the Little Daisy-, Mitzi was distant and solemn most of the time, and Ivy was visiting her father back home. Winter was always a slow time for the speakeasy, and this year it would be no different. At all. Viktor would spend this holiday alone and huddled up in his apartment just like he did every year.
Except for the two he had gotten the chance to share with Mordecai, that is. He let his mind wander to thoughts he had had once upon a time of consummating their relationship on Christmas, or the New Year, perhaps. The idea caused a blush to rise to his face, warming his cheeks. They never did go any further than heated kisses in private. It was something that Viktor both regretted and at the same time, was glad of. Glad of it because he had never considered himself homosexual, or even attracted to men, generally. Though he held no illusions concerning what he felt for Mordecai, and what he thought of the young man's outward unique beauty- if that's what you would have him call it. Besides that, it would have only complicated things between them.
Regretted it because Mordecai was the only person Viktor had ever truly shared a connection with. There was Ivy, but they didn't have a 'connection' per say, she just liked him for some reason. Always following the old guy around and chatting with him happily. He liked her company alright, but it could never compare to what he and Mordecai had shared. Whereas Ivy could never truly know the inner workings of the world in which they lived and worked- the blood and guns and death that it included- Mordecai had lived it with him.
Viktor hated Winter. There was far too much time to think on these things. He was sitting alone in his old, raggedy chair, sipping on some foul-tasting alcoholic beverage that burned going down and occasionally flicking the radio to another station whenever a song he didn't care for began to play. It had briefly crossed his mind many times lately that, given he knew where Mordecai lived, he could easily go and see him at any time. Yet, even though they could easily be turned to actions, these were only thoughts. He told himself that if Mordecai wanted to see him, he would come and see him. The speakeasy was always there, and Viktor had not moved from his apartment in half a decade. Viktor's conclusion? Mordecai must not want to see him. But God, did he miss the spectacled sociopath. Yet, he couldn't put a name to why he missed him so much. Why just spending a those couple hours with him in a rusted old truck back in November had made him feel so elated. Or why, over the past few days, he would drive a few blocks in the direction of Mordecai's apartment, only to turn around before actually going through with it.
It must be normal. They were friends, right? No, friends wasn't right. It was more than friendship. It had to be. Viktor sighed. He had pushed these thoughts from his mind countless times. He had told himself over and over that it wasn't love. That it couldn't be. Viktor didn't love anyone, and Mordecai Heller, well, he wasn't even sure if the man was capable of such an emotion. Viktor just liked Mordecai. A lot. They just had a not-so-platonic friendship with a side of homoerotic attraction and homosexual tendencies. That was all. Yes. Not love. Just an attraction. Perhaps it was just their common interests or their familiarity with one another that caused these confusing emotions and thoughts. Or perhaps, thought Viktor, perhaps there is more to it. Perhaps going and visiting Mordecai wouldn't be so terrible, and maybe, just maybe, whatever feelings Viktor had would be returned by the sociopath.
Viktor sighed and decided to take a nap, turning the radio down and wrapping his worn blanket tighter around himself. Nothing to do around here on a snowy Sunday, anyway.
It had only taken a couple of weeks for Asa to start trusting him again, and the Savoys stopped following him. It was, surprisingly, a great weight off of Mordecai's shoulders. In the week after things went back to normal, it was difficult for him to focus on much of anything for a significant amount of time. It seemed all he could think of was going to check on the Lackadaisy. Well, if he were honest with himself- which he never was- all he could think of was going to see Viktor.
It was truely ridiculous how much time he spent thinking about the man. He looked up from the book he was reading, not having paid attention to the page he had just read, anyway. He was pining, for crying out loud. Pining. Mordecai Heller, reduced to an emotional (by his standards), twitter-painted, unfocused pile of pining mush. Though, he would never acknowledge such a thing.
Of course, it was just boredom. Just the bad weather. Just the lack of work and last but not least, the lack of companionship. At least, that's what Mordecai told himself. He closed his book, standing and taking a deep breath, letting it out in a huff. He smoothed his hair back, glancing at the shelves in his room, and at the dresser, and finally, his perfectly made up bed. Everything was spotless. So much for that distraction. He looked at his clock. Eight pm. Late enough, he supposed as he removed his glasses and began to strip down for bed. New Years Eve was in two days. Maybe he would visit his Slovak friend then, when he could at least use celebration as an excuse to see him.
So there you have it. Next update is super special. As long as I can figure out how to write it.
-Daft
