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Viktor is no stranger to Jayce's affection.
Well, it's a bit hard to be, when enclosed in such proximity to the charismatic, bright man for years. Whether you like it or not, it would be like avoiding a magnet. Scientifically improbable, impossible.
And God, did Viktor try.
Even now, as his conscious tortures him in his sleep as the sensation of his partner's warmth plagues his dreams, he wishes he would just have his typical nightmares instead.
He dreams of the first time. The first, real time Jayce's touch consumed him, early in their partnership. For reasons unbeknownst to the men, stabilizing a logic-defying substance proved harder than first envisioned. Viktor lay just as he is now, uncomfortably sprawled over his desk, crumpled papers knocking off the surface. After hours of pouring over equations, Viktor found with each page worn down to tears with erasers and smudges of graphite, that perhaps he might be using the wrong type of formula. He stretches his arms over the desk, limbs clinking half-filled coffee mugs into each other and plants his nose into the crease of his journal, letting out a paper-muffled groan. It smells like pencil shavings and blood, sweat, and tears.
“Are you good over there?” Jayce chimes across the lab, voice musing as if he was considering teasing the other man. Viktor responds with a grunt and a lifted forearm, hand weakly curling into a pointed ‘thumbs up.’ Never better!
Viktor hears the scrape of Jayce’s chair screech against the tile as he stands. Jayce mumbles a high-pitched whine as he likely stretches, uncurling his spine from his seemingly permanent hunch, and Viktor listens to his steps as he pads over to his station. He takes this as a sign he can drop his arm back down onto the desk, balled papers sliding across the surface with it. A pencil rolls to the floor.
Jayce lays his hand on Viktor's shoulder as he tries to read the scratched notes he is sprawled across. He does this small, charming gesture often, whether it be in the form of a reassuring squeeze or a congratulatory clap. Viktor tried not to tense up under the contact, but he always found himself wondering what made Topsiders so touchy. Jayce’s fingertip slides across the paper, following the train of thought aimlessly. He lets off with a quiet “hm” and moves his stance behind Viktor's seat, hand moving from his pointed shoulder to the broad of his back and rubbing slow circles. Viktor tries not to freeze again.
How is he always so warm? Viktor ponders. Viktor was lucky if he could manage to keep his body's core at a regular temperature, his hands were a lost cause entirely.
If Viktor was self-conscious about his rigidity at all, it did last long, as when Jayce shifts so that both of his hands rest on his shoulders, and he uses the heels of his palms to push into the permanently knotted muscle that connects his neck and shoulders, he groans and melts into the table. Viktor didn't know physical touch could feel this good, he never saw the purpose. However, as the pressure of Jayce's palm between his shoulder blades eases his tense muscles, he finds he no longer resents it. In fact, he might crave it.
The warmth that slowly encompasses Viktor's body is far more dangerous than any destabilized, technological substance.
With that thought, Viktor's conscious shifts further down the timeline of Jayce's affection. The images bend until he stands before the lab workbench beside his partner, who tinkers away at a stabilization device with a soldering iron. Viktor, unconsciously curious, leans into the device over Jayce's shoulder, inspecting the man's impeccable precision. Jayce, smacking his teeth, puts down his work to shoo Viktor’s face away from his work with a gloved hand. Viktor scoffs in feigned offense, leaning back onto his cane with a huff. He supposes he should be doing something more productive until Jayce swivels in his stool to face him.
“I'm going to burn your face off with this thing someday.” He sighs. The light from the tall window cascades in a stellar ray onto Jayce's smooth face, his perfectly shaped lips twitching into a smile. The beam turns his big, brown eyes into honey, and Viktor drowns.
Without thinking, Viktor reaches a palm up to push back loose locks of hair that have fallen into his partner's face due to his concentration. The way he instinctively chases the contact sends Viktor reeling back into the all-consuming warmth that floods his chest, his witty retort nearly stumbling over his lips.
“Better that than your hair catch fire today.” Viktor hums.
With a pat of his hand on top of the man’s head, Jayce smiles and turns back to his work, his hands locked back into their practiced, flawless task. Viktor makes a note to find a way to obtain some face masks to wear for this craft, as surely the fumes must be the reason why he suddenly feels so light-headed and unbearably warm. Viktor watches as Jayce uses the heat of the tool to melt and bond the two tiny pieces of metal together, and he finds it oddly poetic In a way he can't say out loud.
Another shift; the dark blue of the workbench blending into the washed-out green of the chalkboard. Viktor scribbles furiously, mind working much faster than his fingers can write. He swipes the board with the stub of chalk with a satisfying scrape and tosses it into the bin, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding. His eyes scan the equations over the board: double, triple, quadruple checking his work. With confidence, he turns to his partner standing next to him, noticing his fingers pressed into his lips habitually in concentration. He watches as Jayce’s eyes flick over the board: once, twice, three times, with a hand rubbing the careless stubble that has begun to grow on his chin. Slowly, without tearing his eyes from the numbers, Jayce finally speaks.
“Viktor, you are a fucking genius .” Jayce mumbles.
Viktor chokes at the language, knowing Jayce typically prefers a politer vocabulary, save for when he's exasperatedly throwing a stripped screw across the lab.
“I know.” He hums.
Jayce doesn't respond, verbally at least. He barely gives himself enough time to turn before he throws his arms around Viktor's shoulders, nearly crushing him in a celebratory hug. It takes the air out of his lungs.
“My God, Viktor! This is going to work! This is going to work!” He laughs, punctuating each sentence with a slight shake of his shoulders. Viktor can't help but chuckle at the theatrics. It would be funny if they both weren't so sleep-deprived. Slowly, he leans his cane against the chalkboard and tentatively wraps his arms up Jayce's back. He sways and squeezes him tighter with excitement.
“Oh my God, we have to tell Hiemerdinger!” Jayce pulls Viktor away by the shoulders, expression suddenly very serious. Viktor rolls his eyes.
“That would be very irresponsible, Jayce. We must test this theory before getting any traction, especially with Professor Hiemerdinger. You know this.” Viktor levels, unamused.
“What? Don't be so shy now, someone needs to see this!”
“I'm not-” Viktor is distracted from his argument by the mischievous expression that creeps onto Jayce's face. He all but rubs his hands together manically as Viktor stares at him suspiciously. “What?”
Jayce suddenly bends his knees and wraps his arms around Viktor's thighs, testing him with a small lift from the ground, earning him a gasp. His wide, overzealous eyes scan Viktor’s face, ever the scientist, scanning for resistance. His expression says it all: tell me not to.
For some unknown reason that might have to do with the warmth enveloping his chest, Viktor does not.
Jayce, plowing forward, lifts Viktor from the ground by his legs and darts to the hallway, shoving open the door with his shoulder. Viktor almost struggles to stifle the giggle that bubbles from his chest as Jayce howls:
“Hey! My partner is a fucking genius!”
“Oh my God, you have lost it. Put me down.”
Suddenly, the hallway blurs, and when Viktor blinks he finds his feet on the floor again, alone. He turns, and down the hall is Jayce's tall figure, striding towards him with a goofy smile stretched across His face.
“So?” Viktor probes with a quirked eyebrow.
Jayce halts and looks down at him with a flattened, bitten-back smile. He sucks in a breath as if to steel himself and quickly, Jayce opens his coat where tucked into his side is a very large, very expensive bottle of wine.
“They approved us.” Jayce pushes out, voice wavering. He bites down on his lip.
Viktor blinks rapidly, eyes widening. His fingers twitch and his mouth falls open, but nothing comes out except an incredulous huff. Jayce can no longer bite back his grin as he giggles childishly, shifting anxiously on his feet. Viktor pinches the bridge of his nose, still reeling.
“Are you serious? The council approved us?” Viktor breathes, eyebrows furrowed
Jayce holds up the long, olive-hued bottle.
“I wouldn't have spent as much as I did on this if I wasn't.”
Viktor huffs again in disbelief, palm sliding down his face to cover his mouth.
“We… actually did it.” he lilts, tasting the words. Jayce nods enthusiastically
“Do we have a corkscrew?”
They do not.
How they managed to lack a basic tool in an actual lab is statistically improbable. And yet, Viktor finds himself staring at the forsaken bottle with narrowed eyes. Jayce slams another drawer on the tool bench shut with a groan.
“This is so stupid.”
Viktor hums an agreeable noise as he slides a wrench across the counter. Quickly, before he can think, he whacks the heavy wrench across the neck of the bottle, breaking it in half. The drink fizzes over onto his hand and he pulls it away from himself hurriedly.
“I suppose we'll have to finish it.” he deadpans
Jayce quickly plucks it from his grasp and brings it to his lips, attempting to drink away the foam.
“Oh, that's awful.” He rasps, nose scrunching in disgust.
Viktor watches intently as a droplet of the bubbling wine rolls down Jayce's chin from his wet lips. With a tight, unwavering stare, he wonders for the first time what it would be like to taste him.
With this, well, distressing realization, Viktor swipes the bottle from his partner's hand and takes a long, long swig. The flavor is distinctly bone-dry and floral. He takes another drink.
“Slow down! I think that’s like, 20 percent!” Jayce laughs, capturing the drink back and taking another apprehensive sip.
“Jayce, I assure you I would find no difficulty in out-drinking you.” Viktor notes phlegmatically.
His partner laughs loudly at this, throwing his head back. “Okay, sounds like an experiment, then.”
And so they did what they did best, hypothesizing and analyzing for the next hour. Viktor found himself more than sufficiently flushed and dizzy as they passed the bottle between each other on the suede couch nestled in the corner of the lab. Viktor had requested it be brought in after he caught Jayce asleep at his desk one, two, seven too many times. Though it typically was forgotten about and took up too much space, Viktor was immensely grateful for it tonight as he tipped his head back and laughed loudly at his partner's childhood anecdote, their knees knocking into each other as they sprawled across the cushions.
“I wouldn't even go near cats for years after that.” Jayce giggled into his hand and he took another drink. He swirled the remnants in the bottle and held it out for Viktor to finish.
He gladly hummed in acceptance as he leaned across his lap to grab the wine, tipping unsteadily into the other man and cursing to himself.
“Don't blame the poor animal, it was completely in the right. You deserved it.” Viktor leaned back into the arm of the chair with his prize, inspecting the bottle with his eyebrows raised, amused.
“You saved me the last glass-filled sip? You shouldn’t have.” Viktor cooed with feigned sincerity. When he finally downed the remnants, He paused to pull a large, triangular shard of glass off his tongue, and he and Jayce both laughed so hard they couldn't breathe. Jayce anchored a hand on Viktor's knee while Viktor doubled over so far his forehead pressed into Jayce's knuckles.
Jayce leaned back into the couch, sliding down into the cushions. “You were the one who decided to shatter the bottle!”
Viktor sinks back with him, snorting and straightening his bad knee.
“I am an impatient man, Jayce.”
“Don't I know it.” Jayce sighs. His head lolls over onto Viktor's shoulder, rubbing the soft flesh of his cheek into the sleeve of his shirt. “We could've found someone with one.”
Viktor smiles, dizzy with the familiar warmth that encompasses him and an expensive buzz. Lacking the energy for dignity, Viktor threads his fingers through his partner's disheveled hair and rests his cheek on the top of his head. He blinks slowly, the sudden dissolving power of the man's presence dragging him closer towards sleep.
“That would be boring, no?”
Jayce hums in agreement, eyelashes fluttering closed. Viktor knows it is not the wine talking when he decides Jayce is the most beautiful creature the universe has ever come up with, and he slips into a dreamless sleep.
He is shaken awake.
When Viktor slowly opens his eyes, the first thing he notices is the throbbing pain in his leg and back. He notices he is not lying lazily on the couch with his beautiful partner, but instead, he is hunched over his desk, his pale and cold arms cushioning the hard surface. His lungs and eyes burn, and he has to blink hard to finally see the second thing he notices, which is a warm hand on his shoulder, which is then followed by Jayce's worried face, beautifully haloed by the morning light. He looks exquisitely groomed, as he often does now that he is a member of the council. Not a hair is out of place and his face is smoothly clean shaven, suit perfectly pressed.
Viktor has to look away.
Jayce makes a barely audible noise that can be akin to that of a wounded dog. Viktor rubs a tired hand over his sunken eye bags.
Jayce does not falter. “Is this seriously where you've been? Is this why you're never here during the day?”
“Can we have this discussion later, Jayce? Ideally when I have slept?” Viktor slowly rolls up from his seated position to his feet, so as to not further inflame his aching back. He positions himself fully on top of his crutch, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure.
“You look awful.” Jayce comments. “Why are you doing this to yourself?”
A wave of guilt-ridden nausea washes Viktor over. He continues to avoid his partner's gaze, instead taking great interest in the pattern of the floor. Jayce has no idea, no idea at all why Viktor truly looks so awful, all translucent skin and sunken cheeks. Viktor hopes he'll never know why, but he knows better.
“Listen, Jayce-”
“No, you listen.” He snaps. Viktor swallows hard, irritation needling his skin.
“Why? Just tell me why . Tell me what I did and maybe I can move on and be better or whatever you need, just please ,” Jayce pleads, “please stop doing this to yourself. What can I do?”
Viktor nearly bites his tongue off in frustration. “This is not about you .”
Something tightens in Jayce’s voice. “Oh, then you avoid me just for kicks, do you?” He retorts. “Don't think I don't see what's going on here. I am lots of things, but I am not stupid.”
Viktor, with the aching pain in his knee, and the even deeper aching in his chest, begins to feel his resolve break down. His teeth clench and his brow sets. He opens his mouth to respond, but Jayce beats him to it. He speaks so softly that he has to strain to hear it.
“Please, I'm sorry. If you want me gone, I'll be gone as soon as that. Just please look at me.”
Viktor instinctually snaps his head up. He meets his partner's gaze despite the stabbing pain that throbs behind his ribs. He stands closer than he thought. Jayce places a hand on Viktor's arm.
“Tell me, and I'll go.”
Viktor unravels.
He firmly places his palm on his partner's cheek, grabbing hold of the flesh there. He locks his eyes on his, for once, unwavering. Hazel on deep brown.
“Jayce, I am dying. That is why I'm not here. That is why I cannot look you in the eye."
Silence. "What?"
The way Jayce's voice cracks makes the dam Viktor put every ounce of dignity he had into withholding, burst. Every lie about his condition, every sleepless night lost to contemplation of legacy and love, every violent cough that burned his lungs and poured splatters of dark red blood into his palm, he bore in numb silence. But now, in the horrified gaze of his partner, he feels for the first time in crystal-clear clarity. Tears stream from his eyes in fat droplets, his lips curl and his teeth bare in agony. His breath erupts from him in an ugly, strangled sob. This was so much more painful than his nightmares could possibly conjure up.
"Why didn't you-” Jayce words stumble, shock rolling over him in waves. “Why would that ever stop you from talking to me? How could you ever pull away from me? I can help!"
A dry laugh punctures through his own pathetic lament. "For possessing the most beautiful mind of this century, you are incredibly dense." Viktor inhales a shaking breath through his sobs. "It's because I love you."
Jayce barely lets him get the rest of his sentence out before he falls forward onto Viktor's shoulder, arms flying around him in a desperate embrace. The way Jayce holds him is nearly primal.
Viktor hiccups and finally, finally finds it in himself to lift his arm around him and squeeze back.
Jayce's touch is the only thing that grounds him to the present. The only thing that keeps him tethered to him, to this lab, to the universe. Though he supposes those could all mean the same thing. He doesn't know how he got this far without it, as if the fabric of space and time gradually unwound thread by thread every minute that they spent apart, and now it can finally stitch itself back together.
As Viktor curls his wrist even further into Jayce's back, he feels it: Jayce's shoulders shake, his hot breath shudders into his shoulder in a silent heave, and tears begin to dampen his shirt. Viktor realizes then that Jayce is crying too. When he listens further, he can hear the man mumbling lugubriously: "I love you. I love you. " It sounds like a prayer.
"I'm sorry." Viktor manages to choke out. He wishes he could undo it.
Jayce pulls away. Viktor watches the way his lip quivers and hot tears soak his face. His heart breaks again.
Jayce leans his forehead against Viktors and breathes through the waves that throw him. His fingers travel up Viktor's nape until they lace with his hair. Viktor anchors himself with a hand on his arm.
"We'll figure this out. I love you, I love you ." Jayce chants again.
When Viktor nuzzles his forehead into Jayce's, his fingers travel from Viktor's nape to the hollows of his cheeks, and he plants his palms into the solidity there. Viktor could cry alone from the perfect fit of it all.
"Can I kiss you?" Jayce sniffles.
Viktor's eyes snap open, fear and want overwhelming him. "I can't, Jayce. I can't"
Jayce nudges his face with the heel of his palm, doubling down.
He can't want this. "How cruel would it be, to let you in before leaving forever?"
Jayce does not move his gaze from his partner's face, his brown eyes shining with tears. He does not blink.
"How cruel would it be to let me come so close? I would mourn you either way. I'm afraid this brick was placed years ago."
The universe, with its final stitch, pulls the thread. With it, it drags Viktor unknowingly onto Jayce's pleading lips. He crashes into the exchange like a train, desperate. The universe ties its knot and snips the thread.
They finally pull away against their will, gasping for the petty, human need for air. Viktor, again, will never forgive the constraints of his cursed mortal body for forbidding him from fusing into his partner.
"We'll figure this out, right?" Jayce whispers. As the silence stretches, it feels like the foreboding toll of a bell. It punches the air of its oxygen.
Viktor does not respond. He can't. He already knows the end.