Chapter Text
It didn’t matter to Viktor that he wasn’t at the Founder’s Day party. It really didn’t. Parties weren’t his scene, and no matter how many times Mel or Jayce or even Heimerdinger begged him to join in, assured him that it would be ‘fun,’ he knew the truth of it. At one point or another, the chatting and the drinking and the not-dancing would tire him out. Likely at a point earlier than everyone else, especially after he’d had to replace his cane with a brace and crutch. So, he’d just sit to the side, waiting, trying not to grimace and ruin it for everyone else.
The worst part of the parties, weirdly enough, was not the ache in his leg, or the drone of conversation, or even the fact that most of the people in Piltover looked the other way when they saw Viktor, a Zaunite, at their fancy fucking party. On some level, Viktor was used to dealing with that. It never felt better, but at least it was familiar. The worst part of going to the parties, actually, was watching as some diplomat or scientist or celebrity took Jayce by the arm and led him to yet another circle of beautiful, charming people who wanted to eat him alive, and knowing that there was nothing Viktor could do about it. Watching them waste Jayce’s time felt like watching himself withering away. They tried to impress him, to seduce him, to get him to buy into whatever scheme they were running or follow them back to their bedroom, but none of them ever seemed very interested in what Jayce was actually like. They wanted Jayce Talis, Man of Progress, to give them a winning smile and a charming story (and possibly a small show of new tech). But none of them had even the slightest interest in who Jayce really was. Jayce, the inventor, his partner, his friend.
It wasn’t Jayce’s fault that the city held him up as their Golden Boy. He was everything they wanted — young, handsome, talented, idealistic, with a strong House name and ties to the council. But it did tear Viktor apart to watch him lean into that reputation so easily. They had invented Hextech together, but to the rest of the world, it looked like the magical brainchild of a singular genius. Most of the people of Piltover didn’t even know who Viktor was. Even still, Viktor wasn’t jealous of the fame; not really. What he hated was what it did to Jayce. It wasn’t fun to watch his warm, kind, open face break into that fake smile, to watch him shake hands and nod politely when strangers called to him across the room, but then turn to Viktor with a look of exhaustion and frustration a moment later. Viktor wasn’t one to mince his words. He found lying almost impossible. But Jayce had to do it. He was the man of the hour, after all. The leader that would bring Piltover into the new era of magic.
But that didn’t mean Viktor had to watch it happen.
So, as the party raged on upstairs at the Academy, Viktor found solace in the lab. He tried to stop the sound of stomping feet and music upstairs from distracting him, but nothing could drown out the sounds of voices and dancing from above.
Viktor took a swig from the flask Jayce had left on his desk and put on a large set of noise-canceling earmuffs to finally get some quiet. When at last he couldn’t hear a sound, he began going over his notes and redrawing them on the blackboard for Jayce to make edits to tomorrow.
Before Jayce had been made famous by Mel and the people of Piltover, they’d spent many such evenings together like this — up to their ears in equipment, working out equations and trying out new techniques to perfect Hextech late into the night. These evenings made Viktor feel alive, connected to the world through Jayce. It was what had made their Hextech dream a reality on that first night together, when they proved it would work by floating on the air. Viktor had never wanted to come down after that, and for years, he hadn’t—not really, not with Jayce by his side. The best part of these evenings, of course, was the wind-down, the part of the night when Jayce would get tired and start acting unusual, almost childish, giggling and gripping Viktor by the shoulder.
Another swig. This trip down memory lane was not improving his mood.
Viktor felt a buzz behind his eyes with the second drink. He settled back on to a and raked a hand through his auburn hair.
”Stupid,” he said to himself. Being alone in the lab while Jayce was celebrating upstairs was one thing. Getting drunk alone in the lab while Jayce was celebrating upstairs? That was a new low, even for Viktor.
He sighed again and wiped his hand down his face. This was getting ridiculous. Jayce was allowed to party. He was allowed to flirt. He was Jayce’s lab partner, his friend… none of that came with strings. So then, why did the idea of Jayce dancing with someone else make him want to vomit? Why did Jayce giving that winning smile to someone else feel like an early death?
Pondering these questions would probably have led Viktor to the dark place he’d been many times before — alone, in his room, desperately taking himself in hand to avoid answering any real questions about his feelings and letting himself implode instead. Working it out on his own, that’s what Viktor did best. His soul-shattering devotion to Jayce was just something he would have to get over. He had tried a lot of things to get past it — journalling, one-night stands with scientists from Noxus and Demacia, avoiding Jayce for weeks at a time just to see if that would do the trick. Masturbation as a method of emotional regulation was perhaps a less-than-groundbreaking idea, but at least it gave him a fraction of solace, a moment of unawareness and escape from the Jayce of it all. (It did not help that the majority of his orgasm-inducing fantasies were about Jayce, but hey, no experiment is perfect).
Instead of pondering, Viktor eyed the flask for a third time. Who would it hurt, if he got a little more drunk and slept here tonight? Who would even know? Skye was out for the weekend, and with Jayce still partying upstairs, there was no reason to expect him back until late tomorrow morning.
He took a third swig, thought about Jayce’s hands on his shoulders as he had said goodbye that evening, and took another in quick succession. The buzz behind his eyes quickly migrated to his nose, his face, his arms. He felt… loose. A little blurred.
That was weird. Viktor was a bit of a lightweight anyway, but this… oh. His new pain medication. The drinking and the medication. Not a good mix.
”Shit,” he said, closing the flask. His coordination was spotty at the best of times. He probably needed to find a place to lie down before it got worse… he could grab the cot he’d stolen from the academy health center and stashed under his drafting desk. He narrowed his eyes at the shadow underneath, trying to figure out if it was still there, or if the custodians had found it and returned it again.
A hand touched lightly on his shoulder, and he couldn’t help it. He yelped and jumped off the stool, falling directly into the arms of… God be fucking good. Jayce.
Jayce tried to steady him, his strong hands gripping Viktor’s arms, but without his crutch, Viktor buckled under his own weight. He winced with pain, and Jayce caught him right before his knees hit the ground.
Viktor felt his face flush as Jayce gingerly put him back on… not the stool, as that had fallen. The table, like a child who needed someone else to tie their shoes. Viktor felt the burning sensation of embarrassment curdling in his blood, but there was something stranger still about this whole thing. Why didn’t Jayce say something? Why was it so quiet in here? And why was he painfully aware of Jayce’s hands, still clutching his abdomen to keep him from swaying off balance again?
Jayce moved one of those hands (God, please make him put it back) and removed the earmuffs from his ears.
”Hey! I didn’t mean to startle you.” Jayce said. His hands moved back to Viktor’s waist to stop him from lurching forward as he put the earmuffs back on the table. He was standing awfully close — well, actually Jayce was always getting in close — but he wasn’t usually gripping Viktor like that. Not there, not with both hands. Viktor tried very hard to look at his eyes and not stare at the place where Jayce’s thumbs were digging into the narrow muscles above his hips.
“Earmuffs,” Viktor finally slurred. “Didn’t hear you.”
Jayce made a face that vaguely registered to Viktor as ‘annoyed.’
“Yeah, I got that. Tried to get your attention about five times before I tapped you,” Jayce said. His voice was tight, the tension pulling it up to an almost-reprimand.
”You shouldn’t tap people while they’re inventing,” Viktor snapped back. “It’s rude.”
”You’re not inventing,” Jayce argued. He eyed the open flask next to Viktor on the desk. “You’re drunk.” His hands moved away from Viktor’s waist. Viktor wasn’t quite in his right mind, but he could have sworn he saw the color creeping up Jayce’s neck as he moved, and a breath of hesitancy when he rested his hands on the table instead of back at his sides.
”So are you,” Viktor surmised. It was easy enough to tell. Jayce wasn’t usually flushed, wasn’t usually clumsy, and he very rarely touched Viktor anywhere but his shoulder. (Viktor would know. Most of his fantasies did not involve that shoulder-touch. In fact, this whole grabbing-waist thing was likely to make an appearance in tonight’s endeavours. Might produce some interesting results.)
”I’m allowed,” Jayce defended himself, more than a little indignant. “I was at a party. I wasn’t in a lab full of dangerous equipment, stumbling around, potentially destroying materials that cost millions, like it’s my own personal dance floor!”
“Ridiculous. I never dance,” Viktor replied flatly. “I shuffle at best. Why do you care so much about what I do here anyway?”
”Why do I — Viktor,” Jayce grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. Viktor looked away from his eyes and down his body — Jayce was wearing his good suit, the red one with gold accents, Talis colors. Viktor’s favorite. It fit him like a glove, but he had loosened the collar a bit to let himself breathe, and his tie was gone. The little window of sun-warmed skin of his chest that was now visible made Viktor’s heart beat more loudly in his chest. Sitting here, like this, he imagined he could reach out and touch it.
”You know why I care. I don’t want you spending so much time here, working after hours without me. We’re partners.”
Partners. Viktor didn’t feel like Jayce’s partner right now. He felt a lot more like Jayce’s problem. But how had Viktor become the one pissing Jayce off? He was the one who was always leaving early, headed to parties and benefits to schmooze with Piltover’s highest class. It was his choice to market Hextech with his own handsome face, to spend more of his extremely limited free time in the company of effortlessly beautiful Mel Medarda, leaving Viktor to work here on his own and pretend that it didn’t bother him. Jayce was the center of their project, and their project was the center of Viktor’s world. Working on it without him… well, of course it drove him to this kind of evening. Of course the loneliness and crushing knowledge that Jayce was straying from his side led him to drinking alone and jerking off to fantasies featuring his frustrating absent lab partner of his every night. What right did Jayce have to come in here and scold him?
A wave of hot retaliation burned in Viktor’s throat. He looked at Jayce’s stormy features, how his brows came together over his eyes, his lip almost turned into a scowl. Completely obnoxious that his ‘I’m mad at you’ grimace was so intoxicating.
Viktor grabbed the collar of Jayce’s suit, forcing him to look him in the face.
“Don’t fucking tell me what to do, Talis,” Viktor hissed, dripping with venom.
Jayce gaped at him, and his face flushed a bright red, all the way to his ears, but he didn’t pull away. They were, Viktor pondered again with a kind of delayed awe, very, very close together right now. His knees brushed against Jayce’s thighs, as Jayce’s hands anchored him against the table. Somewhere beyond the buzz and the burn of his anger, he could feel Jayce’s breath on his face, feel his own fingers gripping at the expensive fabric, pulling him closer until Jayce was leaning down over him.
Fucking Talis. Idiot… annoyingly considerate, eternally surprising, painfully beautiful idiot.
“Viktor,” Jayce said. His voice had lost that angry whine, and now it was doing something else, something low and breathless. Viktor realized that Jayce wasn’t looking at him, not quite; instead, he was staring, open-mouthed, at Viktor’s lips, the expression of — of fucking want – playing out clear as day on his face.
Under ordinary circumstances, Viktor would have pulled back, turned away, waited for the feeling of ravens tearing his guts apart inside him to subside. He would have stayed mad at Jayce, and Jayce would apologize, and would probably give him that friendly shoulder-tap thing again and call a cab to take him back to his apartment, and in the morning they’d pretend this never happened. But something about Jayce’s open, flushed face, the intoxicating smell of him so close, his flashy red suit pulled loose at the collar, the very obvious way that Viktor’s harsh words had done something to Jayce… it undid every impulse Viktor had to run. Jayce needed to realize what he was missing, all of those nights away, dancing with the upper crust without Viktor. And Viktor… well, he needed to tear this man apart.
He leaned forward, closing his eyes as he moved, and planted an angry, desperate, cloying kiss on Jayce’s lips. Jayce was still for a moment, lingering in shock, then pushed forward with a soft whine as he leaned into Viktor’s kiss, needing it badly by the sound of it. Jayce’s hands moved back to Viktor’s waist as he leaned forward, deepening the kiss, and somewhere inside himself, Viktor felt his mind separating from his body, conscious thought lost beyond the general chorus of “no fucking way” that played over and over in his head as their mouths moved sloppily over one another, desperate to touch deeper and longer and somehow more .
Jayce’s hands wrapped more tightly around Viktor’s waist as his arms came around to encircle him and pull him closer, until Viktor was half-falling, half-balancing on the table, legs flailing a bit as he tried to right himself. He pulled back suddenly, sure that he would fall again and take Jayce with him, and roughly returned his hands back to the edge of the table. Jayce, for his part, did not back up an inch, but did take Viktor’s hands and help him find his balance.
”You… fucking… ” Viktor tried to talk, but between the breathlessness of the having-just-been kissing and the hardness pushing against the fabric of his trousers, he found that he had nothing to say. His anger at Jayce, his one mean comment, had made this happen? Finally?
Jayce rested his forehead against Viktor’s, his breath ragged, eyes slotted closed. Jayce didn’t know this, but in Zaun where Viktor grew up, such an act was considered intensely intimate, a form of greeting shared only between families and lovers, more special and reserved than a kiss. His heart flooded with a sudden, sharp fondness for his partner that mixed with his confusion, and underneath it all, the heady feeling that if they continued, Viktor realized, he could get Jayce to do whatever he wanted.
”Yeah,” Jayce agreed.
A beat.
“How long–how long have you wanted to…” Jayce asked, his voice hoarse.
Would it be crazy to say ‘since the day we met?’ “A while,” he answered. “You?”
Jayce looked up, their foreheads still touching. “Since that day at the Distinguished Innovators Competition, when you lost your shit at that guy who knocked over another teams’ project on purpose,” he said, eyes glinting with gentle mirth. “I’d never even heard you raise your voice before. Or threaten someone with your cane.”
“I wasn’t actually going to hit him,” Viktor complained. “Besides, the yelling made me so anxious, I threw up right after.”
Jayce laughed gently. “I know. It wasn’t the yelling or the… implied violence, really. It was that you were willing to stand up for someone. A stranger. It was brave,” Jayce said. “Even if it did lose us our place in the final.”
It was Viktor’s turn to laugh. “I can’t believe that is what did it for you. I hated my life so much at that moment.”
“You hate everything. It’s part of your charm. It’s…” Jayce choked a little on his next words. “I like it. A lot.”
“You… enjoy seeing me pissed off?” Viktor asked, a little mystified, trying to figure out how this fit into the version of Jayce he knew, the one who lapped up praise like water. “Why?”
Jayce gently shook his head. His hands moved down, gripping Viktor’s thighs, his face somehow even more red than before.
“Everybody’s… everyone is always so nice, Viktor. God, I’m too nice. But you’re different. You say what you want. You aren’t scared of what’s going to happen, what people think of you. It’s admirable. It’s…” Jayce paused again. “Attractive.”
Viktor took this in, a little hmph sound echoing from his throat. “You never said anything.”
“Neither did you.”
Silence lapsed between them for a moment, the years of wasted time hanging in the air.
“I should have,” Viktor relented, his fingers wrapping around the nape of Jayce’s neck again, feeling the soft, short hairs there. “I know that now.”
Jayce’s hands wrapped back around Viktor’s waist his time, more carefully, so large they could easily meet around his middle. The sensation of being so firmly in Jayce’s grasp wretched a frustrated grunt out of him.
“Viktor, I–”
“Will you please just keep going–”
And with that, Viktor’s fingers twined around the back of Jayce’s neck, possessive, clawing, and he pressed his lips against Jayce’s again, the flame of impatient desire lining his gut with incessant heat. Viktor’s lips parted, and he felt with lightning-bolt intensity the touch of Jayce’s tongue against his mouth, and then in his mouth, and a very embarrassing whine of pleasure escaped him. It had not occurred to Viktor that his fantasies should have included this detail, but experiencing it now, it occurred to him that he would not very well be able to live without it again. His tongue moved against Jayce’s, and Jayce actually moaned, which was both immensely gratifying and made Viktor’s dick twitch and throb in his trousers, and why wasn’t this thing out of his trousers by now, Viktor wanted to know.
Jayce’s tongue moved away from Viktor’s mouth and traced a line down his neck. Viktor felt (with some mortification) how his back arched against Jayce at this, how another loud groan pulled itself out of his mouth before he could repress it, echoing against the metal tools and piles of notes.
”J-Jayce,” Viktor breathed, wrapping his arms around the other man, his legs coming up to hold him even closer. Jayce pulled Viktor’s collar to the side so he could reach his collarbone, sucking there in a way that, for a moment, robbed Viktor of his ability to speak entirely.
”Mhm,” Jayce hummed against Viktor’s bare skin, the sound barely registering in Viktor’s ears. Jayce stepped even closer in, his hands reaching up to cradle Viktor’s back. That half-step was enough to press the hardness of Jayce’s erection against his own, and it shattered the part of his brain that was still even a little bit aware of the absolute lunacy that was this moment.
”Lock the door,” Viktor gasped. He protectively put a hand between them on the table, ensuring there wouldn’t be another touch there until he could be sure Jayce was actually listening to him. “Now.”
Jayce’s lips finally moved away from Viktor’s collarbone, and he looked at Viktor’s hand between them with an utterly baffled expression.
”You want — you’re sure?” he breathed, finding Viktor’s eyes. He looked… nervous .
Viktor didn’t have the words to explain what he wanted. He had fantasies, of course, but those would be hard to share with clothes on. He simply nodded and pressed another quick kiss against Jayce’s jaw. “Key’s on the table.”
Despite the obvious influence of inebriation and wild, horny desperation on Jayce’s movements, he still moved with blinding speed to grab the keys, run to the door, and lock it from the inside, and even had time to throw his jacket and shirt down on the floor. By the time he had returned to the pocket between Viktor’s legs, he was half naked and flushed, his eyes darting down Viktor’s body, hands moving to his waist to rid him of the same useless garments. But, as he went to lift Viktor’s shirt from where it was tucked into his trousers, Jayce’s fingers brushed against hard metal, and felt Viktor freeze in his arms.
”Is something wrong?” Jayce asked, wrenching his fingers away from Viktor.
The air felt like it was being pressed out of Viktor’s lungs. ”I… I’m wearing a brace,” he stammered.
”I know that. You’ve been wearing one for weeks,” Jayce responded, waiting.
Viktor felt his skin burn a deep crimson. “I don’t know if I can… If I can do this without it on,” he admitted.
”Then don’t,” Jayce responded simply. “Keep the shirt, if you want.”
Viktor turned his eyes down again in thought. He gently reached out towards Jayce again, feeling the wide muscles of his chest, the dark hairs rough against his smooth, warm skin. Jayce stayed still as he waited.
”No,” Viktor breathed, and pulled off his own outer layers in one brisk movement. “I want you to see.”
Jayce swallowed, gaze flickering across Viktor's exposed chest, his arms, the hard lines of the structured brace. Viktor closed his eyes, unwilling to watch Jayce's worshipful gaze inevitably falter.
He gasped when Jayce's fingers gently brushed over the strap that curled over Viktor's shoulder, then slowly reached around, felt the cold surface of the metal screws along his spine. Viktor shivered and bit back a curse, the tension of the brace forcing him to stay upright, despite the sudden urge he felt to curl up into a ball and hide.
”You’re like a dream,” Jayce said, both hands now ghosting over. “Better than a dream.”
Viktor flushed again, so deeply this time that his chest turned pink with it. His hands returned to his chest and he crossed his arms, assuming a defensive posture, his head turned away.
“You don’t have to tell me things like that, Jayce. I’m very aware of what this looks like. I deal with it every day.”
Jayce shook his head. “No, I’m not — that’s not what I — I just meant, I’ve been dreaming of… of this. Of you. Your brace is a part of you as much as anything else. I didn’t think it would somehow magically disappear.”
Viktor scoffed. “So, in your fantasy, you’re fully naked and I’m wearing — this,” he gestured vaguely down, “While you and I do what? Pretend it isn’t there?”
There was a pause just long enough to almost drown Viktor in his shame and sharp, seething disappointment. Of course he wouldn’t get to do this. No matter what he wanted, or how much he wanted it, his body always stood in between him and his desires. It’s why he was working so hard to fix it, to get back the healthy body everyone else seemed to take for granted. Of course Jayce wouldn’t want—
“My dreams mostly revolve around letting you tell me what to do,” Jayce murmured, his voice lower than it had ever been, unshakable. His fingers gently pressed the side of Viktor’s cheek until he was looking him in the eyes. The expression on his face wasn’t even a little bit embarrassed or flushed, but instead filled with an almost ravenous desire. “They revolve around touching you, tasting you, hearing you call out my name, seeing the look on your face when you come apart. That’s what I’ve been dreaming about for years. Does any of that sound like I’m secretly harboring a wish that you’d somehow be different than you are right now?”
Viktor couldn’t breathe for a moment. When he finally did breathe, he felt his dick jolt dangerously in his trousers again, so tight now that he pushed his palm against the fabric in a desperate bid to ease the tension. He noted with some urgency that neither he nor Jayce were fully unclothed yet, and that if they didn’t hurry he’d be having this orgasm all on his own.
“It doesn’t,” he relented, and his hands moved to unbuckle his own trousers. “It really doesn’t. Now, will you help me get rid of these so we can start?”
Jayce smiled, his eyes sparkling with anticipation, and easily lifted Viktor off the table so he could slide his trousers and underwear down and discard them on the floor, alongside his socks and shoes. The brace extended down Viktor’s leg, the same leather and metal curving elegantly around the gaunt muscles of his thigh and calf. This, of course, was not as interesting to Jayce as the cock that stood erect within a thatch of dark hair, its tip already wet and glistening. Jayce went to wrap a hand around it, sheer stupid lust taking control of his movements.
”Wait,” Viktor stopped him, just barely. “Your turn.”
Jayce complied almost mechanically, removing every stitch of clothing on his person in two seconds flat. He heard Viktor gasp and watched him push his palm against his own dick as his eyes roved over Jayce’s wide, muscular body, the scars that crossed his skin from years spent in the forge, the dark hair that shimmered in the light of the lab, the thick, fully erect penis that was already dripping with precum.
”Come here,” he beckoned, his voice hoarse in his throat.
Jayce crowded into Viktor’s space again and pushed his legs gently with his hips, but not gently enough. Viktor winced in pain.
”Does that hurt your leg?” Jayce asked. “When I do that?”
”I — yes,” Viktor said, the aggravation grating through his teeth. “I spent all day sitting. I’m too sore to– I didn’t think—“
“You don’t have to think,” Jayce calmly assured him. “Just tell me… tell me what you want me to–”
”Get on your knees,” Viktor said, his voice soft but with a hard edge of demand. The effect on Jayce was immediate, his breath quickening, his body folding down to the floor in a second, hands finding resting places atop Viktor’s thighs.
Maybe all of those Jayce-centered fantasies had been good for something after all – they meant Viktor knew exactly what he wanted from this.
Even with the catalogue of sensual imagery Viktor had swimming in his mind, nothing could really have prepared him for the real thing – for Jayce, naked, kneeling, hazel eyes expectant, looking up at him with a kind of lustful anticipation on his face, hands big enough to easily grip each thigh in one hand.
There was another beat of awkward silence.
“Um,” Jayce looked up at him again, nervously this time. “I, what do I…”
Viktor felt a flush on his cheeks. He hasn’t been with a man before. It was oddly touching to be his first. “It’s alright,” Viktor assured him, cupping his cheek with one hand. “Just… just touch me like you’d do to yourself.”
Gingerly, Jayce wrapped one hand around Viktor’s penis and began to stroke, starting slowly, watching Viktor’s face with learned fascination, focus knitting his heavy eyebrows together. His expression reminded Viktor of their old days spent in lectures, Jayce taking vigorous notes, trying to gleam every ounce of information out of another person’s head.
“Like this?” he asked. Jayce, always seeking his advice, his reassurance.
Viktor nodded, his eyelids heavy as heat pooled in his gut, hands gripping the sides of the table. “Now, if you want, you can use your mouth to…”
Jayce’s lips encircled Viktor’s head, tongue making obscene noises as he traced over the length of him. He always was a quick study.
”Jayce,” Viktor gasped. His hips jolted, bucking against Jayce’s mouth.
“You like that?” Jayce asked as he readjusted himself.
”Y-yes,” Viktor breathed. “I’m— oh,” he moaned as Jayce began to suck at the head, his lips slowly moving over the slit.
“Oh, Jayce, oh, please —“
”Please,” Jayce echoed hungrily, hand returning to stroke him as he took deeper and deeper swallows, breathing through his nose. He paused for a breath, and the agony of it made Viktor squirm under his touch. “What?”
”Please don’t stop,” Viktor whined, his toes curling, hips jutting wildly in response to every movement of Jayce’s mouth, his hands, his tongue. Viktor curled one hand into Jayce’s dark hair and pulled it, surprising himself with how miraculously good his body felt, with how much better this was than his self-stroking hypothesis. It didn’t take long for the pressure in Viktor to build, to begin muttering Jayce’s name over and over under his breath, for the sight of Jayce’s eager eyes on him, of his hair pushed back from his face as he worked the length of Viktor’s penis again and again with his mouth, to make the coil of tension in his body ready to spring free.
“Jayce, I’m close, you should… move… ” Viktor gasped, and not a moment too soon, as a breath later it was happening, he was spilling across Jayce’s neck and chest, his whole body rutting in bursts as he came, Jayce’s name sounding loudly and deeply in the halls of the academy as he shook and gasped with pleasure.
When at last he felt the shaking, sputtering end of his orgasm, Viktor moved his clutching hands away from Jayce’s hair and pulled him up by the shoulders until they were face to face again. Jayce grinned mischievously at him, wiping at his chest with a discarded rag.
”That was very… loud,” he teased.
”Shut up,” Viktor groaned, hiding his face in Jayce’s shoulder.
“Not saying that’s a problem.”
“We’ve talked about this, Jayce. The egotistical thing. It’s unbecoming.”
”It’s not egotistical if it’s accurate,” Jayce laughed, “And besides, for once it’s not me screaming my praises for the entire Academy to hear.”
Viktor peeled himself away from Jayce’s shoulder, a fond laugh echoing in his own throat. “See, you say that, and then you smile while you’re saying it, and it might as well be.”
”God, you are glowing, do you know that?” Jayce said in a hushed tone. “We should do this more often. It’s got to be good for your health.”
”I’m sure it is,” Viktor laughed and kissed Jayce again, a long, lingering kiss. His hands moved down Jayce’s chest, past the toned muscles of his stomach, until he reached Jayce’s cock and wrapped around it with both hands.
“Viktor…” Jayce said, his voice hoarse again.
”Your turn again,” Viktor purred as he nibbled on Jayce’s ear. “I can’t really get on my knees, but…”
Jayce grunted in response. “You don’t have to. You’re… um… very good with your hands.”
“Am I?” Viktor preened. He wetted one hand with saliva and took Jayce in hand more strongly now, and Jayce leaned forward and nuzzled into his neck, gasping. “I do have that reputation.”
”Oh, I… that’s… Viktor…”
Jayce shuddered against him, holding Viktor in his arms as he panted with pleasure. With each stroke of Viktor against him, he became less and less coherent, until he was reduced to low, grumbling groans deep in his throat, gasping, the tension rising up through his shoulders.
”I’m speeding up now,” Viktor whispered in his ear as his hands moved up and down the length of him. “Higher frequency. Have to crank it.”
“I…” Jayce gasped and shuddered again, violently, desperately. “It’s… you…”
He made a choking sound in his throat, and then he was coming, so much at once that it got on Viktor, on his hands and thighs and belly, and on the floor, and on the table. Viktor looked down at Jayce’s penis as it thrashed and throbbed with pleasure in his grip. He moved quickly to avoid a splatter of cum that shot straight towards his eye.
”It’s not a firework spectacular, Jayce,” Viktor laughed as Jayce’s orgasm finally subsided. “You don’t have to put on a show.”
”Course it is. It’s Founder’s Day, remember?” Jayce laughed, the flush in his cheeks double what it had been before. Viktor smiled at him, his face warming, his hands coming up to hold Jayce’s forehead to his again. They stood together for a minute, catching their breath, the wonder of the moment sparkling between them.
“I’m… I am so glad that I left that party early,” Jayce whispered, taking Viktor’s hands in his. The tenderness in his voice made Viktor feel like part of him was going to crack apart.
“Glad you did too,” Viktor croaked.
”I… need to sleep,” Jayce yawned at last. “It’s been a long night.”
”Seconded,” Viktor agreed.
”Where should we go?” Jayce asked, his eyes wandering along Viktor’s lithe, cum-stained body. “I have a feeling the building security won’t enjoy learning what we’ve been doing down here after hours.”
“I have a cot stashed in the cabinet. It’s big enough for two,” Viktor said. “If you’re willing to squeeze.”
“I’m going to save my smart comment about your lab cot for the morning.” Jayce whispered. “Let me go get it.”
Jayce moved away from Viktor. Viktor stood, grabbing his crutch, snatched another clean rag from beneath the blackboard, and cleaned himself off as best as he could. As he watched, Jayce unfolded the cot and quickly worked to put on sheets and pillows. Viktor never did that step when it was just him — a singular blanket served him fine. It was kind of magical, to watch this man who he loved put together a safe place for them to sleep.
When he was a bit cleaner, Viktor put down his towel and moved toward the cot. He fell easily onto its waiting softness, and felt Jayce climb onto it beside him, covering them both with the blanket. Viktor hadn’t known where any of this night had been heading, but weirdly, the way that Jayce easily wrapped his arms and legs around him felt more natural than anything else that had happened tonight. This was the part of the fantasy Viktor was the most familiar with — being held by the man he loved. He just never imagined it would actually happen.
As they drifted off to sleep, Viktor felt Jayce’s breathing slow and drop into a gentle snore, his breath warm on the back of Viktor’s neck. He sighed to himself in the dark, until at last his own eyes closed and he was pulled into gentle sleep.