Chapter Text
Smooth fingers ran along his cheek, mapping the bones of his face. Jayce held still, letting his features be explored at the whim of this pale, slender hand. Though long and elegant, the fingers were rough, with calloused pads and ragged cuticles, speaking to a life of hard work and harder treatment.
Trailing down to his mouth, the fingers pressed against his lips. A gentle touch, soft as a breeze, but still it demanded , leaving no room for disobedience. Open.
Eager to please, Jayce parted his lips, letting the exploratory fingers delve inside him, brushing past his teeth to caress his tongue. A groan slipped from his exposed throat, ghosting past the fingers that had wrought the noise from him, and his eyes fluttered closed.
Above him, a voice whispered, “Jayce…”
Viktor , he thought, nearly weeping with the force of his desire.
“Jayce.”
Yes, yes. He opened his mouth wider, letting the fingers press down on his tongue, holding the slippery muscle in place like an unruly fish. I love how you say my name.
“Jayce!”
Jayce snapped awake and almost slipped backward off his rolling stool. Instead, he launched away from the desk he’d been resting his head on, sending a stack of books crashing to the floor.
“Victor!” He struggled to pull himself back toward the desk like a drowning man scrabbling for a piece of driftwood. “What are you doing here?”
Victor, who stood a few paces away, offered him a bemused grin. “I work here.”
Blinking, Jayce ran a hand over his hair. He remembered working late into the night, rushing to finish their latest presentation to the council. Viktor was disinterested in “pontificating to leeches,” as he’d put it, so he’d left Jayce to finish writing his speech and made his way back to the campus apartment he never let Jayce see.
Now, light filtered in through the high windows of their lab, casting Viktor in a warm glow.
“Shit.” Jayce massaged his eyes and stretched his sleep-stiff legs out beneath the desk. “I guess I fell asleep.”
“Good.” Victor bent down, easing his weight off his crutch to reach for one of the books Jayce had knocked to the ground. “You’ll need your rest for this afternoon. Though I would prefer it done in a bed rather than our lab.”
“Wait!” Jayce lunged for the book, snatching it up before Viktor could even reach half way. “I’ve got it.”
Chuckling nervously, he held the book to his chest in a preemptive attempt to protect his heart from Viktor’s venomous glare. The paper and leather were not a sufficient enough shield, however.
With a click of his tongue, Viktor stalked toward his own desk, which was even more disorderly than Jayce’s. “Very well. Clean up your mess and go home.”
“What? But—”
“Clearly, you need rest. Our golden boy must get his beauty sleep before he begs for scraps from our… esteemed benefactors.”
As they drew closer to completing the Hexgates, Viktor had grown more and more exasperated with the bureaucracy surrounding the process. His irritation spread from the council to the university to even Heimerdinger, whose advice always erred toward caution rather than the progress Jayce and Viktor hungered for.
After many difficult years, they were so close to realizing their dream that they could taste it, but every time they left the lab they were forced to wade into a swamp of others’ ignorance and greed and fear. Perhaps that was why Jayce had fallen asleep there, seeking comfort from the last bastion of peace afforded to him. In the lab, encased in Viktor’s bubble of straightforward good sense, he was safe from Piltover’s endless sea of grasping hands.
Thinking of hands, he was reminded of his dream and flushed, snapping his eyes to the floor. Half hard, his cock struggled feebly against his tight trousers, which had spared him embarrassment on more than one occasion.
Though he’d always thought Viktor was handsome—he had eyes —the longer they worked together, the more drawn to Viktor he found himself. Whenever he wasn’t thinking about Hextech, he was wondering about Viktor—how he was feeling, if he was pained or hungry or exhausted, what he might want for himself from their research.
A desperate, devastated part of him catalogued the changes in Viktor’s condition over the years. He’d grown paler and thinner, no longer standing tall and proud but leaning wearily on his cane, which he then traded for a crutch. Their occasional walks on the university grounds grew slower and shorter, and while Jayce didn’t mind, it worried him. Recently, Viktor’s mood had soured, worsening whenever Jayce needed to speak with the council or petition for funds at events.
Jayce hated not being able to put in as much work in the lab, his time becoming more and more divided, but his mind was scattered, too many things rolling around in it for him to keep track of—including the complex feelings toward Viktor that haunted him, daring him to puzzle them out.
For so long, he’d let his strange thoughts remain passing, never holding or looking too deeply at them. It seemed his subconscious refused to let him continue ignoring the way his heart spasmed whenever Viktor praised him or returned his casual touches. But he couldn’t think about it. Because after so many years, Viktor had become a pillar holding up his life, and he couldn’t afford to jeopardize that.
They were friends, confidants, coworkers. Partners.
“You’re coming, right?”
Victor did not look up from where he’d settled over his notes. “Where?”
“To the meeting with the council.”
“Must I?”
Jayce couldn’t see his face, only the staccato movement of his shoulders as he wrote in his journal, but he imagined the snarl twisting Viktor’s lips.
“You don’t have to, but I…” I’d like you to. I would feel better if you were there. Less alone.
Viktor hummed. “Then I think my time would be better spent here, working.” After a moment, he added, “If you don’t mind.”
Deflating, Jayce busied himself with cleaning up the books. “Yeah, no, that’s fine. Yeah.”
As if sensing Jayce’s disappointment, Viktor turned and offered him a small but genuine smile. “Go home and rest, Jayce.”
Gaze caught on the slight crinkle at the corner of Viktor’s eyes, Jayce’s heart fluttered. “Okay.”
✦
Viktor rarely dreamt, and when he did, it was either a stress nightmare about work or… the thing he dreaded and desired in equal measure.
Yanking the covers off of himself, he frowned at the protrusion tenting his loose sleeping shorts. He felt the urge to growl, Go away , at it, but that would not solve the problem, and what would solve it was… something he was not willing to do.
The cold air on his exposed skin made him shiver, and his shivering brought him back to his dream— trembling in strong arms, his skin paper-white against tan flesh, soft lips mouthing at his neck, the scratch of stubble between his thighs.
Drawing in on himself, Viktor curled into a ball, hiding his shame. His leg ached, as did his back—the only constant companion he had maintained throughout his entire life. The pain reminded him of his limitations, kept his mind out of the clouds and away from Jayce Talis. Forehead pressed against his knees, he waited for his dream-assisted arousal to abate.
Once his cock had softened a respectable degree, he pulled himself out of bed, stabilizing his weight on the bedside table until he could grasp his crutch. Stiff from sleep, he limped to the kitchen—which was not far, as his Academy accommodations were not lavish—and made himself a cup of tea.
Deep longing tugged at his ribs, and he tried and failed to suppress the thought, I want to see him.
So often, he wanted nothing from Jayce, only to look at him, witness him going about his life. But, even if he had an unconditional invitation and it was not the middle of the night, Jayce lived off-campus in an apartment near his mother and the Talis forge, and Viktor could not make the walk in his current condition.
Worsening condition , he reminded himself.
“If we had seen you sooner…” the doctors always said, but there was no sooner. A gimp sump-rat from the Lanes could not afford that level of care, and neither could a dean’s assistant. The funding they received from Hextech was just enough to keep Jayce’s family’s business from going under and just enough to cover Viktor’s numerous and ever-increasing medical expenses, but no amount of money could undo the past. The Piltover elite never seemed to understand that. One cannot buy time.
He sniffed and rubbed at his nose, the steam from the tea tickling the sensitive hairs in his nostrils.
Jayce would have finished his presentation to the council hours ago, and Viktor wondered how he had spent his evening. Working, perhaps? Or being charmed by the beautiful Mel Medarda? If Viktor were very lucky, Jayce had simply gone home afterward, and he prayed that for once in his life, he was lucky.
The tea settled him enough to return to sleep, and when he awoke in the morning, it was his head that throbbed, not his cock.
Wonderful , he thought, pinching the bridge of his nose. He rifled through the drawer in the bedside table until his hand closed over a cylindrical bottle. Popping the cap, he tapped out one too many painkillers and swallowed them dry.
Day preemptively ruined, he did not bother with tidying his apartment, concentrating all his energy on dressing and making his way back to the lab. Over the last few months, he rarely went anywhere other than the lab and, on occasion, his apartment. He was getting rather sick of both places, but the work was too important, and it needed to be done now .
When he arrived at the lab, he found the door already unlocked. He swallowed, pulse quickening, his eyes expecting to find Jayce leaning over one of the desks or scribbling on their chalkboard. In the lab, everything was theirs . Viktor disliked even having the Academy janitorial staff come through, invading their space. And it was dangerous for someone who didn’t know what they were doing. Honestly, dangerous even for someone who did.
Instead of Jayce’s broad back, he found Sky’s narrow shoulders. She jumped, startled by the loud creak of the door opening. It wasn’t often that he could sneak up on someone.
“Oh, Viktor!” She smiled at him and moved to tuck her hair behind her ear, but it was already done up in a bun, no hair out of place for her to adjust. Instead, she settled on fiddling with her glasses. “I wasn’t expecting you this early. I—I wanted to get everything ready before you got in…”
“I appreciate that, Miss Young,” he said, schooling the disappointment out of his voice to land somewhere in apathy.
Though he appreciated all the work Sky had done for them, and she was the first person he thought of to support when looking to spread his newfound—if meagre—influence, he disliked having her around on his bad days. Whenever she noticed he was even more unwell than usual, she hovered and worried, and it got in the way of his work. To combat this, he pushed himself more than he should, attempting to keep up a facade to stave off her well-meaning concern.
With Jayce, he did not have to pretend as much. Jayce trusted him, took him at his word, and when Jayce noticed him struggling, he offered himself as a metaphorical crutch, wordlessly sliding in to write something on the chalkboard so that Viktor didn’t have to stand or stopping to make them both tea to give Viktor an excuse to catch his breath. Viktor treasured the dignity Jayce afforded him.
Drawing himself up to stand straighter, he stepped past Sky, and he thought he’d put on a convincing show until the early morning light hit his eyes, and he winced.
“Are you okay?” she whispered, like they were sharing a secret, and reached out to touch his shoulder before stopping herself.
He resisted the urge to snap, I am fine , opting instead for a diplomatic, “It is simply… a headache. It will go away.”
Regarding him with her brows drawn, she looked unconvinced. “Okay. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Yes.” He turned back toward the desk before a thought occurred to him. “Actually, Miss Young, could you close the curtains?”
✦
Despite having slept a record number of ten hours over the past day, exhaustion weighed heavily on Jayce. Shaving and brushing his teeth had taken all of his strength, and he wasn’t sure how he was going to make it through the rest of the day without falling flat on his face.
Walking close to the wall so he could lean on it if necessary, he trudged to the lab. Though it was rare, he did have his moments when he didn’t want to work. He wondered if he could convince Viktor to go to the park with him. The thought of lying in a grassy field beside Viktor, the sun warming their skin, made something in Jayce unwind. He doubted Viktor would go for it, but he had to try, and Viktor seemed to like being wheedled and convinced.
Whatever spring the thought might have returned to his step was immediately stolen when he saw Sky pacing outside of the lab. When she caught sight of him, she perked up and they nearly collided in her haste to reach him.
“You have to make him go home,” she demanded.
There was no doubt about who “he” was. Sky hated ratting Viktor out—she was usually the one covering for whatever poor decision Viktor made regarding himself, so something must have warranted immediate and drastic action.
“What happened?”
“He collapsed, just for a second, but he almost landed on his leg.” She wrung her hands, and Jayce was overcome with an immense sense of camaraderie. “He keeps saying it's fine, but I’m pretty sure he threw up in the bathroom. He’s…” She waved her hand in front of her face, trying to indicate something to him that he couldn’t understand. “You have to help him.”
Shocked into complete alertness, he gave her a clipped nod and shouldered past. A hound in search of prey, he parted the doors and took in the scene of his hunt. The prey in question sat shrouded in darkness, save for the light of a single lamp trained down at the desk, grinding his teeth and pressing his fingers into his eye in a way that must have hurt.
“Hey,” Jayce said.
The only acknowledgement Viktor gave him was a wheezy grunt.
Jayce marched up to him, gaze flashing over Viktor, his guts twisting themselves into knots. Though most of Viktor’s face was hidden by his hands, it didn’t hide the sickly gray cast to his skin. When he removed his hands to squint up at Jayce, he revealed bloodshot eyes and dark circles deep enough to drown in.
“What?” Viktor hissed, his voice barely audible.
“It’ll be here tomorrow.” Jayce matched the pitch of his voice to Viktor’s, leaning in close to cover Viktor's notes with his hand.
Viktor needed no clarification, dread flashing in his reddened eyes. “But. Has to be done. Finished.”
“Not today.” Jayce placed his free hand on the back of Viktor’s neck, and Viktor immediately surrendered, slumping in his chair.
“Can’t,” he murmured. “Can’t stand.”
“Your leg?”
“No.” Viktor made a looping motion with his finger, gesturing toward his head. “Dizzy.”
“Okay. Can I pick you up?”
Viktor struggled to blink up at him, like a newborn kitten confronted with the outside world for the first time. If he weren’t so worried, Jayce might have thought it was cute. Rather than reply, Viktor sighed and inclined his head in a way that Jayce figured meant yes.
Glancing around, Jayce located one of the blankets they kept around the lab for cold nights and covering certain experiments. He grabbed it and tossed it over Viktor, shrouding his head. Viktor made a startled noise and tried to claw at the blanket, but Jayce gently disentangled his spider-like fingers from the fabric.
“It’s for the light.”
Understanding, Viktor relaxed, his arms falling to his sides. He allowed Jayce to maneuver him into a more ideal position, and Jayce hoped his heart wasn’t pounding loudly enough to be heard outside of his own ears. Chest pressed against Viktor’s side, Jayce crouched enough to fit his hands under Viktor’s knees, supporting his back with his other hand.
“Going up,” he whispered. Viktor grunted in acknowledgement.
He lifted, scooping Viktor up. It wasn’t the first time he’d held Viktor like this, but it always surprised him how little Viktor weighed. He was such a substantial part of Jayce’s life, such an important piece of the world, that it seemed as if he should be as heavy as a boulder, as expansive as the sea.
In his arms, Viktor felt like an overlarge marionette, his sharp elbow digging into Jayce’s sternum and his skinny knees knocking against each other even though Jayce tried to keep his grip light to reduce the strain on Viktor’s bad leg.
“Here.”
The voice snapped Jayce out of his thoughts. He’d forgotten Sky was there, and shame and embarrassment washed over him. He wondered if she could tell how alike they were.
She held out Viktor’s crutch, eyes never straying from its owner. Jayce took it from her, holding it in the same hand that supported Viktor’s knees.
“Thank you. For— Thank you.”
Nodding, she said, “I’ll make sure everything keeps running smoothly here. Just— just get him home safe.”
“I will,” he promised and whisked Viktor away from the lab, hurrying down the halls heedless of pointed fingers and whispers he hoped Viktor couldn’t hear. Each doorway and turn was a careful balancing act between Jayce and the ends of Viktor’s crutch. He may have accidentally clipped a professor’s assistant in the shin once, but he didn’t stop to check.
When he finally exited the building, he realized he didn’t know Viktor’s address—the one secret Viktor seemed dead-set on keeping from him. The question seemed violating, but it needed to be asked.
“Um, Viktor,” he murmured at the blue cloth separating him from his partner’s face. “Where do you live?”
“What entrance? At now.” Viktor’s hoarse voice wafted up to Jayce, almost inaudible through the blanket.
“The southeast one. By the lib arts building.”
“Ah.”
Victor proceeded to give him directions in a series of “lefts” and “rights,” and Jayce followed them dutifully, ending at one of the faculty housing complexes. It was one of the older buildings, hidden away from the hustle and bustle of the main campus but not so far that the walk would prove impossible for someone relying on a mobility aid.
In a shocking moment of vulnerability, Viktor let his head fall against Jayce’s chest and volunteered his apartment number before Jayce even had to ask. “Take stairs. Elevator’s broken.”
Though that revelation disturbed Jayce, it was not the highest issue on his present list of concerns. He hurried up the stairs, careful not to bounce Viktor more than necessary, and halted in front of a plain, painted-blue door, identical to all the others. One of the metal door numbers had fallen off, leaving only an echo of its shape.
“Ah—” Before Jayce could complete his thought, Viktor’s slender wrist rose, a ring of keys dangling from his fingertips. Relying on touch rather than sight, he felt for the correct key and jabbed at the door, stabbing the wood.
He made a small “hm” sound, like the idea of him missing the lock was an interesting development in their research. Groping across the door, he located the correct position of the lock and slid the key home. With an almost pained creak, the door fell open, carried inward by its own weight and the lopsided floor.
Jayce stepped forward into the waiting darkness of Viktor’s apartment, allowing his eyes a moment to adjust before he hooked his ankle around the door and kicked it shut. Viktor flinched at the sound, and Jayce murmured his apologies.
The interior of Viktor’s apartment was both exactly as he expected and not at all. Organized chaos reigned within, books and papers strewn about in a manner that clearly held logic, but a logic only Viktor understood. There didn’t seem to be any kind of living area, only a narrow workspace, a dining table littered with parts and half-dismantled machinery, and a bare-bones kitchen. Down a crooked hall, he found a bedroom with only an unmade twin bed, a side table, and a short bookshelf. On top of the bookshelf, a little toy boat sat in a place of honor, the area around it clear of other clutter. As Jayce lowered Viktor onto the bed and set down his crutch, he noticed that the books on the shelf were all fiction.
Since the apartment was already dark, Jayce drew the blanket off of Viktor’s head and draped it over his body.
“Hey, how are you doing?” Beneath the blanket, Viktor’s hair had been tousled into a small cloud around his head. Jayce smoothed it back down with long strokes of his hand.
“Bad,” Viktor replied dryly. He reached for his feet, struggling to sit up. “Shoes.”
“Oh, right.” Jayce placed a hand on Viktor’s chest, easing him back to lay his head against the single pillow. “I’ve got it.”
Crouching by the end of the bed, Jayce assessed the bow on Viktor’s right shoe—the closest of the two brown leather oxfords. Double knotted, one rabbit ear noticeably longer than the other. Something about it struck Jayce as charming.
Undoing the knots on another person’s shoe was more awkward than he thought, especially with the other person laying down, but he managed. He cupped the back of Viktor’s ankle and raised it, marveling at how slender the joint was, almost painfully so.
I need to… feed him more. No matter what he says , he noted to himself as he eased the shoe off and set it down on the floor. In a matter of moments, the second joined it, and he nudged the pair together.
✦
Through the dark veil of his lashes, Viktor watched Jayce fuss over him, removing his shoes and fixing his socks. Were he not cleaved vertically by white-hot pain, his brain swelling to the farthest reaches of his skull, he might be humiliated by the gesture. At present, he was simply content to be freed from his shoes.
Being carried across the Academy campus in a rather conspicuous manner bruised his ego, but it also reminded him of an oft-forgotten fact—Jayce cared about him. Perhaps not in the same way Viktor cared about Jayce, but it was enough.
Shuffling back up to the head of the bed, Jayce knelt on the floor, leaning his folded forearms on the mattress. His warm breath puffed against Viktor’s cheek.
“Can I get you anything?”
Viktor pointed at the side table, and Jayce opened it, sending the glass pill bottles within knocking against each other. Jayce’s eyes widened.
“Blue,” Viktor whispered. The day was already ruined, so he figured he might as well treat himself to the good stuff.
Locating the bottle, Jayce’s eyes flashed over the printed label, reading the name and directions for use. His gaze flicked between Viktor and the bottle in his hand, and he said, “How much medication have you taken today?”
Ah, clever boy, Unfortunate.
“Give it to me,” Viktor snarled, forcing out a complete sentence.
Brows knitted together, Jayce handed over the bottle, and Viktor fished out two pills. Anything more would have him out of commission for days.
“I’ll get you some—”
As he had in the morning, Viktor swallowed the two pills dry.
“—water,” Jayce finished. Sighing, he stood and left the room, returning after a moment with a full glass. “Drink this anyway. Gotta stay hydrated.”
Without comment, Viktor closed his trembling fingers around the glass and downed it, cool water soothing his throat. Jayce seemed surprised by his docility, but Viktor could not find it in himself to care about protesting. If Jayce wanted him to drink water, he would drink water.
“You shouldn’t take stuff like that on an empty stomach,” Jayce continued, almost to himself. “I’ll make you some food. Just sit tight.”
Viktor snorted as Jayce left the room. All his partner would find in the kitchen was a stack of canned tuna, a tin of loose-leaf tea Heimerdinger had given him, and half a lemon turning into a science experiment in the back of his refrigerator.
As predicted, Jayce returned shortly, exasperation twisting his handsome face. “Do you just live off research and air?”
Despite the pounding in his head and the ache in his body, Viktor chuckled.
Running a hand over his face, Jayce took a deep breath. “Okay, I’m gonna go get you something to eat. Hang tight, buddy.”
Viktor wanted to snap that he didn’t need to “hang tight.” He didn’t need Jayce’s charity or concern. He would be fine by himself. But the part of him that was still a sick little boy and always would be cried out in thanks, a longing finally answered. As a child, he had wished for a brother, hadn’t he? A playmate who would not abandon him, who would be patient with him, who would protect him from cruel children and street thugs and his father’s worst nights.
Through the blood pulsing in his ears, he heard Jayce’s heavy footfalls as he exited, closing and locking the door behind him. In Jayce’s absence, he succumbed to the weight of his eyelids, shutting out the bright, painful world.
✦
Balancing two containers of take-out, Jace shouldered through Viktor’s front door. Despite having only crumbs—and whatever the hell the thing in the fridge was—in his pantry, Viktor owned a reasonable amount of cutlery and dishware for one person living alone. In the kitchen, Jayce spooned out a healthy heap of noodles onto a plate and carted the meal to Viktor’s room.
The door remained ajar, as he’d left it, and Jayce nudged it open further with his foot. Inside, he found Viktor asleep, his breathing slow. Smiling, Jayce took the plate back to the kitchen and covered it, locating the farthest place in the refrigerator from the evil mass developing in the back left and placing his and Viktor’s food inside.
Once free of his duties, Jayce loitered in the kitchen, uncertain of where to go. He settled on looking over the rolling blackboard pushed against a wall in the workspace that may have been intended to be a living room. Covered in Viktor’s sharp, square letters, the board displayed equations and notations that Jayce recognized from Viktor’s notebook.
He imagined Viktor having an epiphany in the middle of the night and hurrying to the board to scratch it out so he wouldn’t forget. The next morning, he would copy it down in his notebook and bring it to the lab, where he would share it with Jayce.
A nosy part of him wanted to look through the things on the workbench, but he resisted, since Viktor would surely be angry at him for it. He hadn’t even wanted Jayce to know where he lived.
Jayce wandered back to Viktor’s room and peeked through the door. Face turned against the pillow, Viktor slept peacefully, his hands loose at his sides.
It was presumptuous and rude, but Jayce could not stop himself from entering and kneeling beside Viktor’s bed. He leaned his head against the mattress, the end of his nose not far from Viktor’s fingers, echoes of his dream playing in the back of his mind. Closing his eyes, he slipped into a doze, lulled by the sound of Viktor’s measured breathing.
“Jayce…?”
Blinking, Jayce raised his head. Though he thought only a moment had passed, the room had grown darker, the glow around the window curtains dull and cool. Viktor stared down at him, and even though the shadows had thickened, Jayce could see the surprise on his face.
Jayce lurched away from the mattress, sitting up to give Viktor more space. “Sorry, I just wanted to be… near you, I guess.”
“That is…” Viktor’s face softened, lips curling into a sweet smile. “Thank you for taking me home.”
Speaking in full sentences—a good sign. Jayce brightened. “You sound a little better. How are you feeling?”
“Certainly not one-hundred percent, but I can think clearer now. It doesn’t hurt so much.”
“Do you get migraines a lot?”
Viktor sighed. “I used to, when I first came to Piltover. The clear air was difficult to breathe, and I was not accustomed to so much constant light. I have not had one in a long time.” Eyes glazing over, he looked away from Jayce. “I did not miss it.”
Jayce chuckled. “I’ll bet. My mom gets migraines, so I… Well, I don’t understand , but I sympathize.” He reached up and brushed his thumb against Viktor’s forehead. “We gotta protect that big brain of yours, or else I’ll never finish the gates. Or anything else, for that matter. I need my partner.”
Smiling, Viktor adjusted himself against the pillows. “I’m sure you’d manage.”
They lapsed into a comfortable silence, which was broken by Jayce’s need to voice his passing thoughts. “When my mom got migraines, we used to lay on the couch together. Until I got too big for the couch.” He laughed, suddenly nervous. “She said it helped, having me close. If you— I mean, I could…”
Even though they weren’t touching, he could feel how Viktor tensed. Eyes wide, he looked like a thief cornered by Enforcers, debating escape or surrender. Either could mean death. “What are you saying?”
“I guess, um, I’m asking if you want to cuddle?” Jayce curved the statement into a question, trying to ease what Viktor seemed to be perceiving as a blow.
It didn’t work. Viktor’s face twisted into a familiar expression, the one he wore when an experiment had gone horribly wrong and each possible path of action shot rapid-fire through his brain. As always, Viktor demonstrated excellent response time, dropping the intense emotion from his features and replacing it with cool indifference.
Jayce waited in the tense silence, wishing he hadn’t said anything at all.
In front of strangers, whether giving a presentation or mingling at one of Mel’s parties, he had no trouble charming his way both in and out of situations. It came as easily and naturally as scientific pursuit. But in those situations, he was Jayce Talis, Man of Progress. With Viktor, he was just Jayce. Soul raw and shivering, he wished Viktor would free him from his doubts and speak, whether in rejection or acceptance.
“I… am not opposed to it.”
Relief hit Jayce so hard he saw stars. “Really?” he breathed, overeager. “Could I get on the bed? Is that okay?”
“It is okay, but you might not fit.” Viktor gave him a small, shy smile. “I did not buy it with ‘cuddling’ in mind.”
Already toeing off his shoes, Jayce shucked his Academy jacket and tossed it over one of the posts at the end of the bed. “No problem!”
Still on his back, Viktor eased over to allow more room. “Should I move in a certain way?”
“It might be better for you to lay on your side. Is that comfortable for you?” Jayce’s eyes flicked to Viktor’s leg brace. In the lab, he’d only ever seen Viktor napping upright or on his back with his hands folded over his chest.
Likewise, Viktor frowned at his leg. “It will be comfortable if you help me take this off.”
Rather than reply, Jayce reached for the brace, exploring the joints through his fingers. In his spare time, he had been working on an alternative for Viktor, something to reduce strain on his bones while allowing his muscles the support they needed to maintain themselves. Since he could’t ask Viktor about what he needed—he hoped to surprise him with it after they finished the gates—he had to content himself with observation.
Viktor directed him on the brace’s removal, and he leaned it up against the bookshelf when it was off, noticing notches in the wood that suggested Viktor did the same thing.
While his back was turned, Viktor rolled onto his side, facing the wall. Standing at the edge of the bed, Jayce stewed in his nerves.
“You were the one who suggested it, so you had better not chicken out now,” Viktor remarked, rolling his shoulder in a way that said, Come closer , something he wouldn’t be caught dead saying aloud.
Swallowing his apprehension, Jayce chuckled. “Nobody’s chickening out.”
Jayce lowered himself on the bed, which was much smaller than he’d thought. Using Viktor’s narrow body as reference had given him a false sense of confidence. The bed frame groaned under his weight, and for a moment he thought he might break Viktor’s bed solely by being on it. After a tense moment, he regained confidence in the frame’s perseverance and settled behind Viktor, experimentally wrapping an arm around him.
“This okay?”
“Mm,” Viktor hummed, not sounding enthused or perturbed, but sometimes nothing was better than something with Viktor. Sometimes nothing said plenty.
Wrapped up, chest to back, with the person he trusted most did something to Jayce. He could see, now, the comfort his mother found in it.
With both of them laying on Viktor’s single pillow, Jayce’s nose brushed against Viktor’s hair, and he breathed in the smell of cheap shampoo and sweat. He pressed closer, and when Viktor offered no protest, he pressed closer still, inching into Viktor’s space until it became theirs, like their lab, their work, their dream.
✦
From the Jayce-initiated embraces they’d shared, Viktor knew his partner was warm-blooded. Lying flush against him for an extended period of time revealed how much of an understatement “warm” was. The sensation reminded him of standing in front of the radiator as a child. In the winter, when the undercity became an icebox, he and his mother would migrate their entire lives into the radiator’s area of influence to keep from freezing.
And hadn’t he done that with Jayce? Moved his entire life into his orbit, sucking up his warmth to stave off the cold hands of obscurity?
A parasite, he thought, sneering at himself.
Jayce huffed against the back of his neck, releasing a hot breath out of his nose like an old dog settling down for a nap. As hard as Viktor tried, it was difficult to surrender to self-loathing when being snuggled .
“I brought you food,” Jayce mumbled. “You should eat, when you’re ready.”
“Thank you,” he said, because that was what one said in these situations. His brain pressed against his skull like an engorged balloon ready to pop, but the dizziness and nausea had abated, the medication softening the blunt edges of pain and leaving him in a soft, fuzzy head space.
“Anytime.”
Silence fell over them, and for a long time Viktor thought Jayce had fallen asleep until he whispered, “Hey, Viktor, you awake?”
“Mm.”
“You're my best friend. You know that, right?”
Viktor mulled over the question. It made sense, logically, but the concept seemed distant and abstract, the exact nature of their relationship an unspoken and nebulous thing.
“I…suppose. You are mine as well.” Not quite a lie—while he considered them friends, he had not bothered with dubbing Jayce “best” because he was the only. Viktor knew many people, most of whom he considered acquaintances of varying degrees. Heimerdinger he considered a mentor, not a friend. Leaving only Jayce.
He reciprocated the moniker because it would make Jayce happy, and judging by the smile Jayce pressed against his shoulder, he succeeded.
✦
Warm and comfortable, Jayce emerged from sleep the way one surfaces from a deep, satisfying dive into clear water. When he breathed, a weight moved with his chest, and while unfamiliar, it was pleasant. He hummed, squeezing the pillow in his arms.
Except, the pillow was awfully hard and made a small noise of discomfort.
Cracking open his eyes, he looked into an endless sea of dark hair. He froze, and his vision broadened, dragging his other senses with it. Victor’s head rested on his chest, one of his hands curled up in a loose fist over Jayce’s ribcage. The rest of him was plastered to Jayce’s side, his slender body bending like a piece of paper to fit flush against him. Equally guilty in the embrace, Jayce held Viktor to him, one arm tight around his back and the other on his side.
Since he was already fucked, Jayce descided to enjoy it while it lasted.
Judging by the room’s relative brightness compared to the previous day, they’d slept through the night, still in their Academy uniforms. It would be nice, Jayce mused, to do this every day. Minus the uniforms.
Viktor stirred in his arms and dread dropped like a stone in his stomach.
Stay , he prayed, but the gods did not often answer his prayers.
Once Viktor woke enough to realize where he was and what he was doing, he froze. Jayce could smell him thinking like an engine running overtime.
“Good morning,” he said, hoping to break the tension.
Rather than breaking the tension, his voice wound Viktor up further, his muscles so locked that for a moment Jayce wondered if he was having some kind of seizure. Much to Jayce’s disappointment, Viktor slithered away from him, disentangling himself from their embrace. Jayce released him, concerned with the small twitches of pain he made as he moved.
Back against the wall, Viktor’s eyes flicked up, their amber barely visible beneath his long lashes.
Jayce knew the look.
Once, he’d accompanied Caitlyn on a hunting trip in the forests outside of Piltover. Useless with a gun and uncomfortable with the idea of shooting an animal, he trailed behind her as she leapt through the underbrush, as quick-footed as a fox. Gazing through the mist-shrouded trees, he spotted a black shape. Curious, he drew closer, and the shape coalesced into a wolf, its hind leg curled up against its body as it limped forward on the remaining three limbs.
Jayce halted. Through the wolf’s shaggy coat he could make out the shape of its bones, skin pulled so taut against its skeleton that it could have passed for poorly prepared taxidermy. A dark wetness caked the fur on its scruff and hind leg, a red trail dribbled on leaves and melting snow. Perhaps a conflict with another wolf.
It’s head snapped in his direction, yellow eyes wide and unblinking. Breathing out clouds of moisture into the cold air, it watched him with a mixture of terror and resignation. He held up his hands, a human gesture that read poorly to an animal. It snapped its jaws at him, and, summoning its remaining strength, galloped away on uneven footing. Something in him wanted to call out, to tell it he meant no harm, even if it couldn’t understand, but it was gone.
Seeing that look on Victor’s face made his guts coil into knots.
“Are you—”
“Thank you,” Viktor murmured, “for your concern. And—and your help.” He took a deep breath in through his nose. “But I think you should leave.”
“Viktor, I—”
Viktor held up a hand, stopping him. “Please.” His voice grew hoarse, almost pained. “I apologize for overstepping.”
“Over—? There wasn’t any overstepping. At least, not any that I’m not also guilty of.” Confused, Jayce reached out, but his hand was slapped away.
“This will not affect our working relationship,” Viktor stated, like he was willing it to be so.
Jayce swallowed, rejection stinging in his chest. “Yes, of course.”
The air in the room changed, charged with intense anxiety. Jayce sensed that if he was going to leave, he should do it at that moment. He wavered, but Viktor didn’t want him there, unable to even meet his eyes.
“Okay,” he said to break the tension. “I’ll… see you at the lab.”
Viktor nodded once, and Jayce rose, his eyes drawn in passing to the book spines on the shelf across from them. A collection of poetry caught his attention, but he didn’t recognize the author. As his feet passed over the room’s threshold, he paused, gripping the door frame. “I don’t know if you remember, but I got you food. It’s in your refrigerator. You should… eat something.”
Receiving no response, Jayce showed himself out, blinking back tears in a ray of early morning sun.
✦
Everything hurt. His body, his mind, his heart.
Once he was alone, Viktor allowed himself a soft sob. Whimpering, he pulled all his blankets on top of himself, cocooning his body. They smelt like Jayce—minty aftershave, sweat, and hair product. He tried to memorize it, immortalize it, because he would not have it again. For the best , his mind decided, though his heart disagreed.