Viktor doesn't think about it much on his own, the complicated age situation. Obviously it happens, they spend most of their time together, and what Viktor sees is so very much not who Five is. He knows the feeling.

Mostly, it bothers him when it bothers Five. There doesn't appear to be a solution -- and if there were, Five is the only person who could come up with it. Viktor can't help.

He closes the minimal space between them, his shoulder to Five's. A small, barely detectible show of support. He doesn't have to know what he's thinking, he just knows when he is.

"Try mine," Viktor says, swapping their glasses. He likes a stiff drink, but not as much as Five, and not as stiff as whatever he picked up. When he takes a drink, he makes a similar face. "Maybe this is just cider."