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Viktor was humming some rhythmic seasonal tune to himself—the name of which was long forgotten—as he traversed the darkened and empty hallway leading to the Hextech laboratory. He’d never been overly fond of the holiday season or its music, especially here in Piltover—it had turned away from its roots of celebrating the solstice and the longer days that followed, of the extra time and sunlight to spend with loved ones. No, now it was a glorified excuse to trade excessive gift-giving and ever-growing monetary expectations for a hollow, bastardized form of joy and love. For an already flourishing society to bask in the effervescent glow of their privilege—just one more way Piltover flaunted their riches and boasted of their indulgences.
But, he supposed, there were a few things he enjoyed about it—one, the peace and solitude it brought, and the opportunity to enjoy his morning walk to the lab without the hustle and bustle of crowds. And two—those sickly-sweet peppermint coffees served at the corner store for two weeks only. Which he supposed was where he got this silly tune stuck in his head, but there wasn’t really anything for it.
He had to squint to find the correct key on his key ring—the Academy was closed for the holiday, and as such, its long winding halls and high towers were steeped in a vast, penetrating darkness. No sense wasting the resources lighting the place when there was no one there… well, no one except him. But the lab had its own power cell and grid, due to the odd hours he and Jayce usually kept, so he just needed to get inside and he’d have everything he needed for a peaceful day spent cataloguing his long-overdue notes and transferring the many blackboard scribbles to his journals.
But the moment he pushed the heavy door in, he was met with a sight that had him careening to a halt as if he’d run headlong into a steel girder.
“Jayce?!” he gasped, his eyes helpless but to take in the ridiculous but, he had to admit, tantalizing sight before him.
Jayce was standing in the middle of the lab, naked as the day he was born save for a long, wide ribbon of rich burgundy wrapped fetchingly around his body several times—it looped over his left shoulder and down across his chest, around his midsection to his hips, then it was wound around his left leg a few times, his manhood pulled rather obscenely against his thigh, where it was all capped off with a puffy, flowing bow.
“Surprise!” Jayce yelped, his voice gone slightly shrill and tipping Viktor off that despite planning this, he’d been caught a little off-guard. “Happy Solstice!”
Viktor could feel himself going hot and red in the face, his immediate instinct to turn and force the door closed hard against any prying eyes, even though there guaranteed to be none, not today.
“Wha- I- why are you- Jayce, what in Janna’s name are you doing?!” he gasped, exasperated beyond words and yet unable to stop himself from eyeing that impressive bulge and the way it strained against the handsome red ribbon.
“Giving you your gift… surprise…” Jayce said again, his voice going small at the end and his arms spreading out to the sides as if to display himself; and yet his face was rapidly morphing to one of puppyish worry—worry that he’d terribly misjudged how this surprise would be received.
Viktor softened, shaking his head with fond bewilderment as he let a wily grin spread his lips. He felt that familiar warmth blossom in his ears at Jayce’s reaction—his broad shoulders relaxing and a breath leaving him so heavily that the length of ribbon across his chest sagged. Oh thank the gods, he’s not mad, his body language said.
“You are ridiculous,” Viktor sighed, ensuring that his tone maintained the fondness as he gripped his crutch and took two steps closer so that he might admire.
And while the wine-red color and drape of the flowing satin against Jayce’s honeyed skin was like a vivid splash of paint against a primed canvas, what stood out the most was that Jayce was shivering. Badly. And of course he was; he was standing barefoot on hard marble floors, a vast majority of his skin exposed to the dank and dreary air that came hand-in-hand with the Academy’s high stone walls.
Viktor tutted with pity, tossing a glance over his shoulder to where the malm fireplace was nestled, dark and unlit, in the corner of the room.
“You daft fool, why did you not light a fire?” he asked, his face warming with affection once again when Jayce’s arms self-consciously moved to cover himself, as if he hadn’t planned to be nearly-naked intentionally.
“I, um…” Jayce stuttered, rubbing a goosebump-riddled arm as he peered bashfully over at the fireplace. “I didn’t think that far ahead.”
“Obviously not,” Viktor scoffed, shaking his head again and turning for the fireplace. “Come. And bring my stool, if you would be so kind.”
It was a minor feat, not bursting into laughter at the way Jayce had to waddle awkwardly over to the desk and retrieve Viktor’s rolling stool, but the task was made slightly easier by the sheer beauty of the sight—Jayce truly was a gift, bundled up in lovely shining satin, and Viktor was almost ravenous to unwrap him.
But first thing’s first—he reached up and yanked the lever on the side of the fireplace which would open the floo, and then hurried to press his braced foot against the spring-loaded pedal on the floor which would strike the flint and ignite it. Warmth burst into the space before the fireplace’s open maw, followed closely by a rich orange glow that only made Jayce’s skin beneath that ridiculous red ribbon all the more mouth-watering. It also accentuated the shadows—elegant little streaks of darkness dancing in the smooth, rounded curves of muscle and pulled-taut fabric, and Viktor was so transfixed by them that he hardly noticed that Jayce had deposited the stool before the fireplace and was now looking at him with slightly nervous expectation.
“Mm, thank you, Jayce,” he said, mentally chastising himself for falling to distraction so easily and so early on. After all, a miasma of ideas had sprung to his mind the very moment he laid eyes on this gift, and it wouldn’t do to get derailed without successfully carrying out a single one. “Better?”
Jayce had begun to slowly bounce on his heels—a telltale sign of growing anticipation—but he didn’t appear to be shivering anymore. At least… not from the cold.
“Yes, thank you,” Jayce replied quickly, and Viktor could already note the subtle change in the timbre of his voice, the tone of his words—that even and measured, almost careful way of speaking that he fell into whenever they played. A tentative, eager submission that offered up so much moldable potential that it made Viktor’s hackles rise and a fiery bolt of lust travel down his spine.
“Good. Now… let me have a look at you,” Viktor said, allowing his own voice to take on an air of hunger as he approached and began to circle Jayce in a decidedly predatory manner. He went slow, took his time; letting his eyes rake up and down Jayce’s body and occasionally reaching out to drag the tip of his pointer finger beneath the ribbon to right any wrinkles.
“Satin?” he asked, already knowing full well that it was, but eager to hear how Jayce’s voice broke when he answered, how gruff and needy and desperate it was against the onslaught of Viktor’s light and teasing touches.
And Jayce didn’t disappoint—his first attempt at an affirmative cracking in the middle like struck brass, and he had to clear his throat before delivering a much deeper, more deliberate yes.
“Mm,” Viktor hummed thoughtfully, rounding Jayce’s backside and delighting to find that the ribbon barely did the job of covering his ass. “It’s lovely. The color suits you.”
He punctuated the statement by sliding his pointer finger beneath the ribbon where it was wrapped around those pert cheeks, and following it all the way around to Jayce’s hip. Jayce’s entire frame shuddered, his hips barely curling and his knees wobbling dangerously.
Already? Viktor thought idly to himself, and the proud grin was unavoidable. So he didn’t bother to hide it as he finished his circle and stopped once more in front of Jayce; his eyes drawn down to the place that ribbon was straining where it hadn’t been before.
Viktor put on a performative pout as he dragged his eyes back up to meet Jayce’s.
“Such a thoughtful gift, and here I’ve brought nothing in return for you. Whatever will I do?”
While he was speaking, he raised his right hand, flattening his palm and fingers against Jayce’s ribcage (which was now delightfully warm to the touch), and slid his thumb up beneath the ribbon to begin lightly passing it back and forth over Jayce’s nipple. Jayce keened, his hips curling again, this time so hard that it threw off his balance, and he was forced to take a half step forward. But it was just as well, because it nearly closed the distance between them, and Viktor decided to close it fully—slotting himself against Jayce’s mostly-nude body and leaning in to peck a soft, innocent kiss to his collar bone.
Jayce sighed with contentment, his head bowing and his nose nuzzling against Viktor’s temple as he gave a careful, tentative thrust of his hips. Viktor responded with an approving hum, his senses acutely honed on the bulge he could feel against his own hip, on the way it was still trapped beneath the tightly wrapped ribbon.
“How long did this take you?” Viktor asked, tone more teasing now as he continued to pass his thumb over that peaked nipple.
Jayce chuckled, his warm breath ruffling Viktor’s hair where he was still nuzzled into it.
“L-longer than I care to admit,” he chided back, still maintaining that lazy grind against Viktor’s hip. “Kept messing it uh… up…”
His breaths were starting to quicken as the arousal took over, and Viktor basked in it—raising his chin so that he could tease at Jayce’s neck with his teeth.
“You’d think as a top academy graduate, I could f-figure out how to wrap myself in ribbon,” Jayce went on, voice a little gone with pleasure. “But it’s harder than it looks…”
Viktor grinned at the likely unintentional double entendre, mumbling a quick “oh, I’m sure,” before lowering his hand from Jayce’s chest to slide it between them and press with his palm at that very impressive bulge in the ribbon.
“F-fuck!” Jayce yelped, his hips rolling up into Viktor’s hand, and Viktor conceded, for now—lightly moving his palm up and down the shape of him and applying the barest hint of pressure. He’d always loved how sensitive Jayce was, how easy it was to overwhelm him, and how quickly. It was his own little Politovian indulgence; one he’d decided to forgive himself for long ago… after all, it was hardly detrimental to anything except perhaps trousers and bedsheets.
They were quiet for a moment, the only sound filling the lab being the crackle of the fire, the soft shift of fabric, and Jayce’s steadily quickening breaths. And with a smile, Viktor acknowledged that he’d finally gotten that silly jingle out of his head; perhaps this would be his new holiday classic—a melodic chorus of whimpers and soft sighs, of skin against fabric and the creak of his crutch as he pushed himself ever harder against his partner’s body.
But he was rather selfishly growing impatient to unwrap this gift he’d been given, so he slowed the pace of his hand and leaned in to playfully nip at the muscle of Jayce’s shoulder.
“Look at me, playing with my toy before I’ve unwrapped it… naughty,” he growled against that spit-slick skin, gingerly taking a step back and fully removing himself from Jayce’s space.
Jayce looked desperately debauched already—his eyes wide and owlish with need and his hair disheveled as it fell against his forehead. The ribbon had gone taut against his chest with the force of those panted breaths, and down at his thigh, it was positively straining to contain that hard, throbbing cock. Viktor admired for an extended moment, just enjoying the way Jayce’s body seemed to reel in Viktor’s absence—his abdominal muscles twitching as he fought against the urge to hump the pressure of the fabric. He knew better than that.
So Viktor tutted proudly, taking a step back and lowering himself onto the stool in front of the fire. Without taking his eyes off of Jayce for a second, he relinquished his crutch to the ground with a soft clink, and then beckoned Jayce closer with a single finger. The shadows from the fire made it all the more obvious when Jayce’s Adam’s apple bobbed with anticipation as he came closer, and Viktor just smiled wider—reaching out once more to touch.
“Such lovely wrapping,” he mused, following the line of ribbon at Jayce’s hip with a light drag of his fingernail and watching as Jayce’s body tensed and twitched in response. He then followed the natural flow of the fabric to where Jayce’s erection was trapped against that thick, powerful thigh, pressing with his thumb at the head and watching as the satin darkened with wetness. “It does seem a shame to ruin it so soon…”
“Viktor, please…” Jayce whined, his hips jerking forward slightly and his toes curling against the marble floor.
“Ah ah,” Viktor chastised him flatly, drawing his hand back and leaving Jayce to stew in his need. “This is my gift, and I’ll use it how I please.”
With that, he reached out and grabbed both of Jayce’s thighs, pulling him in even closer, to the point Viktor had to spread his own legs to accommodate for it. And with one last devious look up in Jayce’s ever-eager eyes, Viktor leaned in to nuzzle his face against the fabric, following the hard line of Jayce’s length with his nose and mouth. The scent of him was intoxicating, this close—that crisp smell of clean satin melding with Jayce’s musk and cologne to send Viktor’s mind into a dizzying haze of desire. Who needed holiday spirits when he had this?
Jayce’s hands were on him in a heartbeat; those strong, dexterous fingers digging into Viktor’s hair and playing, suggesting at pushing him in closer, harder. And while the feeling of Jayce’s fingers lightly scratching at his scalp was pure and lovely, Viktor had other plans.
“Hands behind your back, pet,” he demanded, letting his breath warm the fabric before he pressed a heavy, suggestive kiss to the wet spot. And though it was clear the effort of obeying was monumental, Jayce did—yanking his hands back and clasping them behind his back.
“Good boy,” Viktor purred, opening his mouth and forcing out another hot breath into the satin as he brought both hands up and curled his fingers into the line of ribbon.
With slow, deliberate intention, he began to drag it down Jayce’s length—gradually exposing inch after glorious inch until finally revealing him. It was almost comical, the force with which that thick cock sprung free up toward Jayce’s belly, how those pert balls twitched and tensed against the satin as it fell loosely against Jayce’s inner thigh. And what a sight it was, bobbing in the limited space between them and practically begging to be touched, to be worshipped.
“I didn’t know if I would see you today,” Viktor cooed, lightly stroking up and down Jayce’s thigh and watching as more goosebumps followed in his wake. “I hoped I would…”
With that, he reached into the inner breast pocket of his waistcoat, pulling from within it a small vial of Honeyfruit oil. Jayce’s eyebrows shot upward, his lips ticking up into a bewildered but clearly impressed grin.
“You came prepared,” he said, and it didn’t go beyond Viktor’s notice that his cock twitched at the thought of it—the slick glide of long fingers around him, the heat and the hypnotizing pressure. Viktor chuckled, pulling the stopper and reaching out to carefully tip the vial over the head of Jayce’s cock, his eyes hungrily following the streams of oil as they meandered down his length toward his balls.
“Better to have and not need… than to need and not have…”
As he spoke, he quickly stoppered the vial and returned it to his pocket, then tipped his head up to meet Jayce’s eyes. They were absolutely burning with desire, the flames reflected in his golden irises and making of him something wild and untamed, something Viktor could claim if only he had the tenacity. And that… he did.
So, holding that fiery gaze, he reached out, wrapping his fingers delicately around the base of Jayce’s swollen cock and very slowly stroked all the way to the head, twisting his fist to spread the oil as he went. Jayce’s breath left him as if he’d been punched, his upper body curling slightly and his hips giving a single needy thrust into Viktor’s hand. Typically Viktor would chastise him for it, after all he knew the rules… but it was Solstice Day, a day of giving, a day of generosity and benevolence. So he allowed it, reaching out with his other hand to cup and massage at Jayce’s balls as he tentatively took up a steady building rhythm on his cock.
“F-fuuuck, V…” Jayce groaned, his eyes sliding closed in luxuriating pleasure and his abdominal muscles starting to shiver with the effort of holding still.
“I’ve never been overly fond of Solstice Day,” Viktor mused, beginning to twist his fist slightly as he stroked and delighting when Jayce’s knees started to wobble again. “Always found it excessive. Although…”
He paused his stroking for a moment, gripping Jayce’s cock firmly just below the head and swiping his thumb back and forth over the tip. Jayce whimpered, low and pathetic and saturated with need, small beads of precum appearing at the slit each time Viktor’s thumb passed over it.
“I think perhaps… certain indulgences, I am… learning to enjoy…”
He started up his stroking again, abandoning Jayce’s balls with his other hand and taking to soothing his palm all over Jayce’s body—up his thigh, over that sharply defined hip and up to his belly, all swathed in layers of smooth cascading satin. It had him feeling the generosity of the season, the heat of the fire and the responsiveness of Jayce’s body sending him into a lazy daze of comfort.
So he began to speed up his strokes, the slick squelch of his fist as he pulled over the head becoming music to his ears as it combined with Jayce’s mewls and the crackle of the fire. It wasn’t long before Jayce’s thighs started to tremble, before his cock head began to purple with need, and Viktor hungrily took it all in—Jayce was a vision in the glow of the fire, head thrown back in ecstasy and body alight with rippling pleasure. And it was never more of a relief to have the Academy empty of all souls, because the fervor of Jayce’s moans was growing increasingly louder and beginning to echo off the high laboratory walls.
But while Viktor had been feeling generous, he couldn’t resist that itch of mischief in the back of his mind; the call to tease, to toy, to dole out delicious torture. It was practically second nature to him, and though he’d tried many times to deny it… it was never satisfied, never satiated. It was a ravenous beast lying dormant somewhere in the deep, dark recesses of his brain, forever gnawing at the bars of its cage. And he found himself constantly tossing it scraps, hoping to appease the jaws that so often latched onto his brain stem and sent him reeling for his collection of whips and chains and gags. So, listening for that uptick in Jayce’s moans, that slightly shrill quality they took on when he was getting close, Viktor suddenly withdrew—releasing Jayce’s cock and reaching to soothe his hand down Jayce’s thigh.
The sound that roiled up from somewhere deep in Jayce’s chest was despairing and wounded, his torso curling downward and his hips giving useless, aborted thrusts into the empty space between them. His cock throbbed where it hung mere inches from Viktor’s face, a pitiful string of precum oozing from the slit and dripping down onto the floor with an obscene plop. Jayce’s hands flew forward, almost as if—in his wild, manic state of denial—he was going to reach for himself. But before Viktor could even think about stopping him, about berating him for breaking the rules, they stopped—hovering adjacent to his thighs and clenching rhythmically as he forced himself to weather his desperate pulsing need.
Viktor preened with pride at the sight.
“Such a good boy for me…” he cooed, soothing his hands over Jayce’s thighs and feeling them quake under his touch. “Such conviction…”
Jayce gulped, his eyes slammed shut tight and his lower lip bitten in a tooth. His face was twisted into an almost pained grimace, his breaths practically hyperventilated, and not for the first time, Viktor found himself in awe of how stunning restraint looked on him.
“Fffffuck,” Jayce eventually croaked, the sting of denial clearly beginning to wane—his muscles slowly relaxing into it and the near-spasmodic clench of his fists starting to slow. “I sh-should have known…”
Viktor grinned up at him, squeezing his thighs playfully before speaking,
“Yes. You should have.”
With that, he took Jayce into his hand once more, but instead of stroking, he simply held him tight and began pressing his thumb against that sensitive spot on the underside in rhythmic, repeating circles. Jayce’s eyes rolled before once again sliding closed, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips as he quickly lost himself to the new sensation. And it didn’t take long to get him overwhelmed again—less than a minute of those tiny maddening strokes of Viktor’s thumb, and Jayce was once again quivering under the attention.
As it always had, getting what he craved only made Viktor’s hunger ten times worse—a growing ache not in his stomach, but in his very bones. Seeing Jayce shudder and shake only made him want more, more, more. Need him crying and whimpering and begging for release. So Viktor fell on an old technique to get Jayce hovering as close to the edge as humanly possible—talk to him, coax him and tease him. His innate need to people-please would leave him unable to interrupt and deliver his warnings, but that same urge would keep him from coming without permission, without at least attempting to follow their long-established and evergreen rules.
“I thought you would be with your mother for the holiday,” Viktor said idly, continuing the easy motion of his thumb and salivating as Jayce’s balls jumped and his cock throbbed in Viktor’s hand.
“G-going over there… later… Vik…”
Viktor knew that tone; that pitched and needy precursor to a desperate warning. So he hurried to head it off.
“What a workaholic you are, on a day like today—“
“Viktor…”
“Just can’t resist, can you? And to wrap yourself in such fine satin for me, knowing exactly how I would react—“
Jayce’s hips bucked, his abdominal muscles beginning to contract in that familiar rhythm that Viktor so adored.
“Oh gods Viktor, I… I can’t, I’m gunna…”
Viktor knew the exact moment of no return, knew it like the back of his own hand, and he quickly pulled away with no small amount of devious satisfaction. Jayce nearly howled—a ragged, desperate sound of pure abandonment—and yet again that pretty cock was throbbing and spilling more precum onto the floor. And in an incredible display of his obedience, his dedication to be good for Viktor, Jayce still refused to reach for himself, though it was clearly a trying task—his fingers raking up and down his thighs and leaving a fetching set of reddening scratch marks in his tawny skin. Ironically, a sight not unlike the strawberry-caramel swirl cakes Viktor’s mother used to bake for the Solstice, growing up. And just as delectable.
“Steady, now,” Viktor purred, pity melding with pride as he reached out to weave his fingers beneath Jayce’s and stop his scratching. Jayce squeezed at them, but it was weak and incredibly shaky, and Viktor hummed pleasantly to himself as he shifted slightly to tap twice at Jayce’s inner thigh.
“Spread those lovely legs for me, pet,” he asked sweetly, tossing Jayce the full force of his most devastatingly mischievous grin, and the responding look of rueful apprehension on Jayce’s face when he weakly obeyed said it all: I’m so close, I really can’t handle that, I’ll come…
Viktor answered not with words, but with molten fire in his eyes: yes, I know. That’s the point.
He had to rearrange, spread his own legs a little wider to accommodate Jayce’s, but he didn’t mind it in the slightest—his knees were now touching Jayce’s calves, and he could feel every twitch and shudder, feel the strength and the desperation coiling just beneath the surface like pressed hydraulics.
Jayce’s entire body went rigid as Viktor slid his more lubed-up hand between Jayce’s legs and softly began stroking, teasing his joined middle and ring fingers over Jayce’s rim. Viktor did not yet reach for his cock, as he was painfully aware of how easily Jayce slipped into overstimulation—instead he simply watched with laidback fascination as it lightly bobbed in the space between them to the beat of his fingers over that twitching ring of muscle.
Viktor rolled his eyes up to meet Jayce’s as he curled his fingers and began to slowly, gently press inside—typically he wouldn’t start with two, after all Jayce was a soft, delicate thing which required all the care and consideration of a slow build-up, but he was already wonderfully relaxed by the heat of the fire, the heat of Viktor’s touch. And what a treat it was, to watch it all play out on Jayce’s face as he pushed all the way to the knuckle—that chiseled jaw going lax and those pink, bitten lips falling open. Those thick brows pinching in and those dark pupils blowing wide to spill into his honey-gold eyes, dilating with lust despite the bright yellow light of the flames.
Jayce released a long, low groan as Viktor gradually began to pump his fingers, curling them as he did and feeling a spike of white-hot satisfaction in his gut when each stroke caused Jayce’s neglected cock to leak all over his wrist.
“What a sight you make,” Viktor said, eyes trained on the ribbon across Jayce’s chest as it pulled with each quickening breath. “Wrapped up so nice and leaking all over me…”
Jayce yelped, his hips jumping and his body squeezing at Viktor’s fingers, speaking to him through the clench of quivering muscle; yes, yes, right there, please….
“I know, pet,” Viktor whispered, maintaining the angle and the speed of his fingertips against that spot. “I know. You need to come so badly, don’t you?”
The force with which Jayce nodded was almost comical, his hands planting firmly on his upper thighs and gripping at them to stop himself from reaching for his aching cock, and Viktor felt heat pulsing through his veins at the sight—that broad, strong body all pent up and controlled like an electric current with nowhere to go. So he decided to opt for mercy, wrapping his free hand around the base and delivering extremely slow, torturous strokes to coincide with the rhythm of his fingers deep inside.
“Ah! Oh… ohhh gods, Viktor…” Jayce positively moaned, his entire frame devolving quickly to all-out shivers… but most certainly not from cold this time.
Judging by the sight, Viktor knew it wouldn’t be much longer now, but he did his best to draw it out for as long as he could—stroking Jayce’s cock twice and then pausing; stroke twice, pause, stroke twice, pause. He could track the tension as it built and built and built, could watch as every single glorious muscle went tight and shuddered against each wave of pleasure. And each time he paused, more beads of precum oozed from the slit and dripped down Jayce’s length. Oh, how close he must have been—every stroke of Viktor’s hand, every curl of Viktor’s fingers bringing him right up to the brink and then abandoning him at the edge. And then it was time for Viktor’s favorite part—the strangled, breathless string of nonsensical babbling… “mm-ooh… ffuuu… Vikt-uuhnn, I can’t h-holy shit, p-pleasepleaseplease…”
They hadn’t established that he needed to ask for permission, but like the people-pleaser he was down to the core, he was asking anyway. Such a lovely, sweet thing…
“Once more, lásko… ask me once more,” Viktor cooed, slowing his strokes to a torturously glacial pace and admiring the way Jayce’s thighs squeezed at the hand between his legs in a desperate bid to keep going.
“F-fuck, please Viktor, please can I come?!” Jayce practically wailed up at the ceiling, head thrown back in ecstasy and whole body going impossibly tense.
Viktor grinned, delivering what he knew would be the final stroke. “Go on…”
Viktor loved these types of orgasms, loved even more when he could give them to Jayce—not a single explosive burst of pleasure that fizzled out quickly, but long, slow, rapturous waves that crashed through the entire body, licked at every muscle and sent them seizing up in blissful rolling tides. And watching it happen was a treat to behold—Jayce curling in on himself with the force of each spasm, his cock throbbing in Viktor’s hand and his cum oozing out in thick streams that just kept going and going and going… absolutely drenching Viktor’s wrist. His body clenched on Viktor’s fingers hard, harder than he’d been expecting, the seizing of his muscles telling Viktor exactly how intense it was.
Good. Very good.
Viktor hummed with satisfaction, slowing and eventually pausing his strokes of Jayce’s cock and simply holding it at the base—his eyes hungrily catching as it twitched to the beat of his racing heart. Jayce was in shambles before him—bent over slightly from the force of his orgasm and shaking like a leaf, his mouth hanging open and his brows pinched together in disbelief. His eyes half-lidded and locked onto Viktor’s hand around his cock. His legs unsteady and a hairsbreadth from giving out. That lovely ribbon gone taut to near-tearing against his trembling.
Viktor rolled his head up to look Jayce in the eyes, delivering one last mischievous grin before purring a low, sultry “beautiful” as he combined movements—gently pulling his fingers free of Jayce’s hole before placing his thumb against that thick pulsing vein on the underside of Jayce’s cock and pressing as he followed it all the way to the head.
And that was the breeze which shattered him—Jayce yelped, his shaky legs finally giving out and sending him crashing to his knees at Viktor’s feet, body alight with shivers and hips still barely pumping with aftershocks.
“Sh-shit,” Jayce gulped, hands braced against his thighs as he fought to catch his breath. “Sorry…”
Viktor smiled ruefully down at him, fighting the pity that burned hot in his chest for Jayce’s poor knees and reaching for his handkerchief so that he might quickly wipe the mess of cum and lube from his hands.
“Quite alright, lásko, quite alright,” Viktor cooed, tossing the kerchief to the floor. And before he’d even beckoned Jayce forward, he was collapsing down against Viktor’s lap, breath hot and labored against the fabric as both hands came up to reverently rest at Viktor’s thighs—the fingers of his left immediately playing at sliding beneath the brace.
There was something about Jayce’s body language in the aftermath of his release—the way he curled in close against Viktor, the way he inhaled of him long and slow. The way his hands kept gripping and soothing at the fabric of Viktor’s trousers—almost as if he thought Viktor would float away from him if he didn’t hold on for dear life.
Viktor tutted, lightly carding his fingers through Jayce’s hair in rhythmic soothing motions.
“You needed this,” he whispered, rubbing Jayce’s upper back with his other hand. “What’s wrong?”
Jayce sighed, nuzzling his nose against Viktor’s thigh and simply breathing for a moment before answering.
“It’s gunna sound stupid,” he mumbled, closing his eyes and angling his head down so Viktor couldn’t meet them, and that just… wouldn’t do.
With a click of the tongue, Viktor reached down and gripped Jayce’s chin, gently forcing him to look up. And he didn’t even have to say it, he knew his expression said it all—nothing you could say would sound stupid to me, Jayce. Talk to me.
Jayce nodded to the unspoken request, swallowing thickly before responding in a wavering, broken murmur.
“I… I dunno,” he began, swallowing again. “I woke up anxious this morning, and I just… I couldn’t bear not seeing you today. I know, I know, I see you almost every day, it’s… it’s silly…”
“It’s not silly,” Viktor reassured him, releasing his chin and beckoning him back down, to which Jayce eagerly obliged. “We need what we need, and sometimes it makes no sense. Doesn’t matter if it’s… indulgent.”
Viktor took a moment to think on his own words, about his disdain for the holiday and that perhaps… perhaps it was slightly misplaced, slightly overblown. Perhaps showering a loved one in gifts wasn’t always meant as an overt display of privilege. Perhaps, for some, it was a thinly-veiled request, a self-conscious need disguised behind a mask of giving, of providing. Because some people only saw their worth when they were offering something.
Viktor sighed, leaning in to place a chaste kiss into Jayce’s hair, his hand leaving that heated skin to reach for the bow where it resided, no longer pristine and puffy, at Jayce’s thigh. He took a moment to reverently stroke the skin there before reaching for the satin tail and lightly pulling until it gave way. The lengths of fabric immediately went lax around Jayce’s whole body, sliding slowly free like butter from a hot knife.
“Jayce,” Viktor said, staying where he was and speaking into Jayce’s hair while languidly twirling the end of the ribbon around a finger.
“Mm?” Jayce replied weakly, his breath still a warm presence against Viktor’s thigh.
“When you need something… you can just ask,” Viktor continued, unable to keep the hint of pity from his voice. “You don’t have to dress it up in ribbons and bows. I don’t need anything in return. My love for you isn’t something you need to purchase; I give it freely. Alright?”
They’d been together for years, it was quite frankly staggering that Jayce needed to be reminded of this so often. But… Viktor saw it in his daily dealings with the council, with the Piltover elite; Jayce was only valued by them if he was providing to them, only useful insofar as he could keep chipping away at himself and giving away the pieces. So it would likely always be a struggle, a back and forth tug-of-war between the two. But while Viktor was slight and slender, he was confident in his ability to yank that rope harder in his own favor. After all, he had something much, much stronger than their shallow influence.
“Okay,” was all Jayce offered up in return, the reply a little too meek for Viktor’s liking, so he leaned back upright, keeping the ribbon wrapped around his palm and watching as it followed—sliding over the peaks and dips of Jayce’s body like an ebbing river. And with that softness about his hand, he forced Jayce’s head up once more.
“So?” he asked, stroking his thumb over Jayce’s cheek and warming when Jayce responded—his eyes fluttering shut and a content little grin tipping up his lips. “What do you want?”
Jayce was quiet for an extended moment, just wallowing in Viktor’s touch before he gingerly bit his lip and leveled Viktor in his gaze.
“Would you come with me tonight? To mother’s, for Solstice dinner? I already asked, she’d be delighted to have you. I… I would be delighted to have you…”
Viktor sighed, eyeing the lab beyond. He’d been looking forward to putting a dent in the mountainous backlog of banal bookkeeping tasks he’d had planned for the day, but… push and pull, he supposed. And it was still early. Perhaps he could do both.
“Alright,” he said, feeling the elation as it traveled through Jayce like a current. “But first, you must help me with the transcribing of our boards… I had planned to get them all copied and erased, today.”
Jayce nodded enthusiastically, but before returning to his feet to get to work, he paused, eyes grazing Viktor’s body to his lap.
“What about… you?” he asked, fingers traveling up past the brace and making what he was asking very clear.
It would be so easy to give in to the lust simmering below the surface… so easy to let his body succumb to the heat that had been building and building as he watched Jayce come apart in his hands. So easy to rip his clothes from his body, wrap that ribbon around Jayce’s broad shoulders, and yank him down onto the desk. But if he did, his plans for the day would be shot—they would do nothing else until it was time to sloppily put themselves back together and go to Ximena Talis’s, act like they hadn’t been ravishing each other all day.
“I’m fine for now, Jayce,” Viktor said, noting the pitiful tilt of disappointment in Jayce’s brows as they sank, so he hurried to continue. “Perhaps tonight, I will be your gift.”
Jayce perked right up, planting his palm on Viktor’s stool and pushing to his feet. But Viktor felt that damned spike of heat again as he admired Jayce’s fully nude form in the firelight, that fetching maroon ribbon sliding from his body and fluttering to the floor. Almost subconsciously, Viktor began winding it up around his hand, making it small and compact enough to be slid into his bag and saved for later.
“Let’s get to work then,” Jayce said merrily, reaching for his pants where he’d obviously discarded them earlier and slipping into them. “Oh by the way, when she heard you might be coming, mom decided to make your favorite sweetmilk cheesecake.”
Viktor scoffed, playfully rolling his eyes as he bent to retrieve his crutch from the floor, plant it before him, and rise to his feet so that he could approach.
“You could have led with that, I would have caved immediately,” he said, leaning in to peck a sweet kiss to Jayce’s cheek as his partner laughed out loud.