Work Text:
Jayce has a few things to be anxious about.
Their internal review is coming up, for one. Construction of the hexgate tower has slowed due to tightened travel restrictions for Zaunite workers. Then there's his mother's cold that still hasn't gone away.
But those are all manageable issues. They've been working overtime to prepare for the review. It'll go as well as it can. Whether the council and Heimerdinger will be pleased remains to be seen. The tower's construction doesn't fall under Jayce's ever-expanding responsibilities, and he thinks it may be time to remind some people of that fact. As for his mother, well, he sent for the academy's best physiker. They can afford it, and there isn't better care to be had. Worrying won't stop her coughing fits.
No, what makes Jayce actually anxious is what he feels he can't control or act on. Like the upcoming party organised by the Ferros clan, and who he's supposed to attend with.
'Don't get distracted now,' Viktor chides him.
'Sorry.'
Jayce looks away from the window and back down at his notebook, trying to focus on the puzzle of runes before him. The symbols resist analyses, arcane in all the senses of the term. They seem to dance across the page, their meaning leaping out of Jayce's grasp whenever he closes in on a solution.
'More coffee?' Viktor offers when Jayce snaps the notebook shut and rubs his eyes. 'Or perhaps we should call it a day.'
'I'm sorry, I'm slowing us down.'
'Jayce, please.' Viktor stacks his own notes—loose sheafs of paper he refuses to bind—and places them in the sorting trays they use for ongoing projects with finality. He takes Jayce's notebook from him and adds it to the pile. 'There. Let's head out. This isn't a race any more, and we can't rush this, so taking a break isn't slowing us down.' He grabs his cane and pushes up to his feet, wobbly from long hours bent over their work. 'Besides, you have to be in form for tonight.'
Tonight. Jayce chews on the inside of his cheeks, looking up at Viktor and wondering how he's going to manage this. The gala. Viktor. The eyes and hands that'll no doubt fall on him.
He tries to swallow, but his mouth is cotton dry. His mug has cold, long forgotten coffee in it, which Jayce downs gratefully. 'You're right,' he says, 'I'm just tired and distracted. It'll be better tomorrow, with the gala out of the way and a good night's sleep. Are you— Are you sure you're coming, Viktor?'
'Heimerdinger insisted and I promised.' He shrugs and waves a hand in a helpless gesture. 'You were there. Too late now to change my mind.'
Oh, yes, Jayce had been there—forced to nod and smile while Heimerdinger listed all the reasons Viktor should attend. To dispel the rumours of secrecy around their project. To help sway potential new contributors and patrons. To allow Heimerdinger his own vanity, showing to all in attendance that the boy he once picked out of the gutters of the Undercity rose to be his assistant, and beyond. It would be good for Zaun too, Heimerdinger had argued, although Jayce still isn't clear who at the gala would care. It would show that Piltover was about progress, wherever and whoever it came from. That the noble houses were not the only contributors to their society.
This had ticked Jayce off the most. Viktor has no name to use but his own. He is Talis because he signs receipts and orders with Jayce's seal. He wears Talis colours. He lives every day of the year with Jayce, sleeps in his arms in their lab's small cot, spends his money and eats his food and visits his home.
What has Zaun done for Viktor but chew him up and spit him out?
'If we tell him you're not feeling well,' Jayce says, 'I'm sure the professor will understand.'
He knows it was the wrong argument immediately. Viktor tenses, lips thinning to a line.
'I'm not going to use my... my disability to get out of an event I promised to attend. I can go, and—'
'Viktor, it's not what I meant. I just—' I can't help but worry others will latch onto you '—I know how much you hate these things. I don't mind going alone tonight because I'm used to them. You do faculty grant applications and I do social events. Our arrangement works. Heimerdinger just wants to show you off.'
'And I don't mind letting him, just this once. I've accompanied him to a few events like this, in the past. I know how to behave, don't worry.' Viktor leans over him, and for a painful second, Jayce thinks he's going to kiss him. He stops just short of their foreheads touching. There are dark circles under his golden eyes—as always—yet he seems energized. 'I won't spoil things for you. I won't get in your way.'
Jayce laughs, incredulous. 'That's not possible.' He looks down, away from his partner's piercing gaze. 'You couldn't spoil anything if you tried.'
Viktor chuckles, and Jayce can feel his breath on his face. 'Don't challenge me. I don't know what I might get up to when I grow bored if you put ideas like that in my head.' He straightens up and pats himself down. 'All right, I'll head out now, I have to pick up clothes for this. Will you come get me at seven?'
'I'll be there,' Jayce says.
He follows Viktor with his eyes until he's out of the lab, noting the way he relies more heavily on his cane, how his right foot stubbornly resists the brace Jayce knows is hidden under his pants, shoe sole scuffing against the floor.
He'll need more support soon, Jayce thinks. A stronger brace, a taller cane, something he can lean on properly. Though he's already drafting blueprints in his mind, he's not so distracted as to be spared the thought of Viktor leaning on him instead. Grabbing his arm, relying on Jayce to walk into the gala. The heat of Viktor's skin through the fabric of his sleeve, the stutter in his voice as he apologises, Jayce saying No, no, don't be daft now, you can always—
He shakes his head, chasing the fantasy away.
This is another thing Jayce worries about that has no clear solution. He's been having these spells of fantasy. Flights of fancy, bursts of desire, lost thoughts, hungry and demanding.
Sometimes it's as simple as Viktor commenting on a new coffee's flavour and Jayce automatically wondering what Viktor's mouth would taste like, right then, with coffee still on his tongue; all the way to long, convoluted scenarios that get his pulse kicking and his body stirring.
While he can't prevent them from happening, can't control their increasing frequency, at least Jayce can dispel these thoughts and keep himself from acting out. Small mercies.
Still, it has kept him unduly distracted for the past few months. Ever since they moved into this lab. It's not like he gets any respite. They spend all their time together, Viktor and him. Working day and night, curled around the Council's pinky, crashing in their cot instead of going home. They have a small shower and sink here. It's better than the academy dorms. Less spacious, but private. They often have meals delivered, and otherwise go to the cafeteria together.
The last time Jayce spent a day without Viktor, he was visiting his mother, trying to make her feel comfortable. He'd cooked a stew for her and caught himself wondering if Viktor would have liked it. Then he'd gone to sleep in his childhood bed and agonised over the idea of Viktor being here, sleeping tangled in his sheets, pressed against the wall. The things Jayce could do to him... Then Viktor would complain grumpily when the sun inevitably woke him up. Stumbling out of bed to get dressed, leaving his scent behind.
Jayce had buried his face in his pillow and hated it for its notes of fresh lavender. He'd fucked his own fist moaning Viktor's name, and felt nothing but shame as he cleaned up afterwards.
No respite, not even now. Nothing gets Jayce's blood boiling faster than the thought of Piltover's ruthless elites getting their greasy paws on his partner. Whatever events Viktor went to in the past, he hadn't been the star of the show then, but he will be tonight. People will want him, for politics or for sex, or even just to chat over tea because they think he's funny—and he is, when he can relax enough to let his humour shine.
The idea of someone laughing at one of Viktor's jokes tonight makes Jayce's head spin. He's not even sure why. It's not like he wants Viktor to be dour and reserved. He loves to see him smile and laugh. It's so rare.
He curls his hands into fists, counts to ten and back, then to twenty and back. When he's got his temper under control he gets up and heads out for his own room in the dorms.
He needs to get changed, and a drink wouldn't hurt.
'Is the vest all right?'
'You look amazing.'
'That wasn't my question, Jayce.'
Viktor tugs at his cuffs nervously, and Jayce captures his hand, pulling it away. 'If your vest weren't all right, I would have said so. Now stop it, you're going to actually make it worse.'
Viktor scoffs, but he does as instructed. He frees his hand from Jayce's, running his fingers over his cravat now, but careful not to fiddle with it. 'I don't know how you do it.'
'What? Look this good?' Jayce asks with a teasing smile. 'Or tolerate fancy suits? You'd also be used to it if you'd been dressed like that by your parents on every occasion.'
Viktor grimaces. 'My parents sometimes struggled to find anything at all to put on my back. This, however... I could go a whole life without. I'm glad we never had any reason to dress fancy. I can't say I envy you.'
'Yet you picked this outfit yourself.'
'Well, it seemed airy and tolerable.'
The white linen shirt certainly looks airy with its large puff sleeves. The cuffs are long, buttoned over the forearms, and decorated by modest embroideries in purple and silver thread that match the colour and patterns of the vest.
Viktor really looks incredible in it. The pants are loose enough to hide his brace, but the fastenings at his hips are... eye-catchy, to say the least. The fabric hangs on his body in ways that both hide and highlight how lanky he is. It gives Jayce sweaty palms.
'Is it really that intolerable?' he asks, trying to sound humorous. 'Because if you can stand it, I think you should dress like this more often.'
Viktor looks up at him with a wry smile and a glint of mischievousness. 'I didn't realise it would have such an impact on you.'
'I told you, you look amazing.' Jayce smiles like he means it—because he does, and because smiling like he wants to rip that shirt off and bunch it around Viktor's shoulders to bare his belly would be inappropriate. 'Are you ready?'
They're right outside the property, waiting for the line of guests to thin a bit so that they don't get jostled too much.
'I think I am,' Viktor says with a huff. He shakes his arms, taps the ground with his cane 'Are you?'
Jayce offers Viktor his right arm. 'Always.'
The gala is everything Jayce expected it to be, considering it's hosted by the Ferros clan. There's long and tedious addresses and speeches, followed by music, then space is cleared to allow dancers to perform, darting in and out of the crowd as the performance turns into a sort of impromptu ball. The music ends when the food is brought out, and people begin milling about, a plate in one hand and a glass in the other, forming and breaking clusters with the flow of gossip and underhanded deals.
Under different circumstances, Jayce may have enjoyed himself. The food is great, the Demacian fizz sweet and heady, and the music is the best you can have in the city. The Ferros matriarch takes her hosting duties extremely seriously. She can't be accused of cutting corners, and she's always been good to Jayce, making sure he's not totally overwhelmed—curious or mercenary, there's no end to people wanting a moment of the Golden Boy's time, especially now, with the Hexgates so near completion. The higher their tower grows, the more people want to bend his ears at those social events.
Tonight, however, people aren't as keen to discuss technology or trade deals Jayce has no power to broker. The person who needs help not getting overwhelmed is Viktor, just as Jayce predicted. Heimerdinger stole him from his side when the dancing started, and has not let him go since.
'Viktor, huh? Can't believe he's really Zaunite.'
'The rumours were hard to believe, yes, but Talis did confirm it months ago. Weren't you paying attention, Adin?'
'Is he easy to work with?'
All eyes turn to Jayce. He takes a sip of his fizz and smiles. 'You know he was Heimerdinger's assistant for three years, right? Did you care how easy he was to work with then?'
Adin Ferros, fifth in line to the Ferros clan, rolls his eyes like Jayce is being an ass. 'Nobody cares about Heimer's assistants, Talis. Don't act like you don't know that.'
'Did you know him then?' the other man asks. Layton of house Perridot, the biggest name in the airship business. 'I bet before your trial you'd never even seen the man.'
Jayce sighs. He hates that they're right, and hates the urge he feels to justify himself even more. 'Considering the nature of my research, it wasn't exactly in my best interest to get closer to the professor back then. But you've both been trying to get Heimerdinger to invest in your ventures for longer than I've been alive, so really you're the ones who should know.'
The bickering goes on, with Viktor forever at the centre of it. Meanwhile, Heimerdinger tours him around, having him shake hands with everyone he knows. Jayce steals glances wherever he can, taking note of those who get too close, those who whisper in Viktor's ear, those who smile at him too much.
'Talis, are you listening?'
Jayce turns back to Layton and Adin, and finds that their group has expanded. 'What is it?'
'Are you afraid someone will steal him from you?' a woman jayce doesn't recognise quips, hiding a smile inside her cup.
'Who?' Jayce asks, sipping his own fizz to try and ease the lump forming in his throat.
'Why, your charming partner, of course.'
Jayce gives them all another smile. Wider, brighter, more strained. 'He is charming, isn't he? But I'm concerned Heimerdinger is pushing him too much.' The woman opens her gold painted lips, no doubt for another taunt, so Jayce keeps on going. 'Everyone expects us to be on time to deliver the greatest project this city has ever seen, and I just can't do that if my partner is too exhausted to work. Same can be said of me, actually. If you'll excuse me. I think it's time we call it a night.'
Jayce ignores the chorus of protests and turns on his heels, cutting through the crowd to get to Viktor. He's had enough. The fizz is getting to his head and the people on his nerves. They showed their faces and socialised, nobody could resent them for leaving now.
He finds Heimerdinger discussing with Mel Medarda and Torman Hoskel, and stops in his tracks before they can notice him and start grilling him about his work's progress. He steps around a pillar and goes to hug the wall.
Viktor is nowhere to be seen.
Jayce scans the crowd. He can't have gone far. He looked tired when Jayce last caught a glimpse of him. Perhaps he's gone to sit in one of the couches and loveseats along the walls? Jayce paces the room, waving and smiling as he goes but never stopping. He puts purpose into his stride, but soon he's toured the entire hall and purpose is replaced by trepidation. Just where has Viktor gone? He wouldn't go home without saying anything to him.
The hallway leading back to the property's entrance is packed. People come in and out of the hall to get to the library, smaller lounges and balconies, where they smoke and play cards or dice, or sit down for more copious food. Jayce weaves his way through, mumbling half-hearted sorries as he looks for Viktor's bright white shirt and purple vest, his sharp profile, or even the clack of his cane on marble floors. Any hint of him.
Jayce's heart is racing. Cold shivers run up his spine, and a metallic taste replaces the berry sweetness of the Demacian fizz on his tongue. He barely resists the impulse to yell out Viktor's name over the din. Where has he gone? Did someone take him? Would anyone dare to try and lead him out of the gala on his own? Would Viktor even allow it?
Surely he can't have much in common with anyone present. Maybe there are people out there who understand Viktor better than Jayce does. Zaunites who grew up with him and can relate to a side of him, an aspect of his life, that Jayce can barely fathom. But nobody in this crowd is it. Nobody here understands Viktor the way Jayce does. Nobody deserves a minute of his time, let alone a whole night.
Jayce's fists are shaking by the time he finally spots him. Them.
Viktor has his back against a wall in one of the card rooms, while a bulky man, dirty blond and square-faced, leans over him, his head down close so they can talk over the din. Viktor looks engrossed. Whatever they're talking about, he's into it.
Jayce beelines towards them on automatic. His mind is buzzing. Pure static. He's not sure what he'll do when he gets there. He's not sure of anything, just that this man's large hand is cupping Viktor's elbow, and that's just not tolerable.
'Here you are,' Viktor exclaims as he sees him. 'I was just— Jayce?'
His hand is frozen in mid-air, mid-motion. To do what? Punch, slap, yank, strangle? Jayce doesn't know. All that matters is that the man takes a stumbling step back and lets Viktor go.
Jayce goes to grip his shoulder and gives it a shake. He beams at the man and asks, 'Well, friend, what's your name?'
The man stares, too dumbfounded for words. No matter, as Viktor answers for him. 'This is Captain Elliar, who carries our shipments from Demacia. Captain, this is Jayce, my research partner and Hextech's inventor.'
'Co-inventor,' Jayce corrects absentmindedly. He gives Elliar a proper once over, and belatedly notices the signs. Rough knuckles and rougher palms, tattooed wrists, and beaded braids lost in his shaggy mane. 'So, a pirate, eh? This gala just got interesting.'
Elliar finally recovers his wits and gathers himself up, a haughty expression forming with ease on his weathered face. 'I'm a merchant captain, not a pirate,' he says. 'I only run warships to protect my cargo ships. It's a perfectly legitimate business. You try getting your precious gems through the waters of South Noxus, see how you fare.'
Jayce chuckles. 'Ah, and here I was under the impression I specifically hired a pirate for the job, as it felt like the safest option.'
Elliar crosses his arms over his chest, and the gesture strains the sleeves of his tunic so much that Jayce silently congratulates himself for not starting a fight. 'I only dealt with Councillor Medarda,' he says, 'and no scientist lads.'
'Councillor Medarda is a professional at delegating,' Viktor says with dark amusement. 'I doubt she signs most of her correspondence.'
'You dealt with her, but she dealt with me,' Jayce says, nodding. 'Let's call it delegation. Anyway, it's nice to finally meet you in person, Captain Elliar.'
There's another pregnant pause, and once more Jayce's hand is hovering in space, this time extended for a handshake. Elliar makes him wait for it—silent payback by making it awkward, perhaps, or signaling he knows full well what Jayce had been up to—but eventually they do shake, smiling at each other without warmth.
Elliar's slap on Jayce's shoulder is definitely payback of some sort. Nobody who likes you tries this hard to dislocate your joints.
'Nice to hear about the work all these gems go to. I'll leave you to it, then. You take care, mister scientist. And you, Viktor. Thank you for your advice.' He touches his forehead with a knuckle, then turns around and melts into the crowd.
Jayce grimaces. Viktor. Spoken so casually too. It should have been Viktor Talis to a rogue like him. What's a pirate captain doing at a gala anyway?
'What has gotten into you?' Jayce looks down to see Viktor has snaked his arm in the crook of his and is giving him a shake. 'Well? What was all that... that posturing about?'
Jayce leans close so he doesn't have to raise his voice. 'We should go.'
Viktor tugs at him again. 'Jayce, please! Explain yourself.'
He smells like serpentleaf smoke and fire bourbon. It's what Jayce's clothes usually smell like too, after one of those nights.
'I will,' Jayce whispers. 'When we're home.'
'Home?'
'At the lab. Whatever. Come on.'
It's his turn tugging on Viktor's arm.
'I didn't expect you to be so curt. Or to leave so early. Even Councilor Medarda was surprised.'
'I just wasn't feeling it tonight. Work has been on my mind.'
Viktor smirks. 'Right, work.'
Jayce unbuttons his coat and tosses it in the laundry basket full of sooty lab clothes. He turns to Viktor and gestures for him to do the same. At this time of the night there's nobody else on that wing of the building, and the silence is almost thick enough to chew. It's just the two of them, moving in their lab with a single dim chemlight over the door. They don't need much help navigating this space.
'Yes, work,' Jayce says, helping Viktor with the lace at the back of his vest. 'I was thinking we may be looking at the resonance pattern wrong.'
Viktor sighs, and Jayce can't tell if it's from relief at the vest coming off or the absurdity of his claims. Maybe both.
'You must think I'm blind,' Viktor says testily.
Right, absurdity of his claims it is.
'No, I—'
'You should have seen your face when you marched on Elliar. I thought you were going to poke his eyes out. I think he assumed the same. There was no need to try and antagonise him afterwards either.'
Jayce hums noncommittally and doesn't look up. He has moved on to the buttons on Viktor's cuffs.
'Jayce, stop ignoring me.'
'I'm focusing.'
'You promised you'd explain.'
The last button is undone, Viktor's sleeves open, pale wrists exposed. No more excuses, nothing else to focus on. Jayce doesn't let him go. He presses a thumb to his pulse point and thinks. What is he supposed to say? Viktor wouldn't like the truth, even if he's asking for it.
'Do you know the man?' Jayce asks instead. 'He addressed you so familiarly.'
'I didn't before tonight, no.' Viktor pauses, and when Jayce doesn't move or reply, he continues. 'Someone introduced him, and we talked. He's from Zaun and made a name for himself in Bilgewater before you picked him out to source gems for us.'
Jayce runs his right thumb up Viktor's arm. He's got a chain of small moles there, like a constellation, leading the way up to the crook of his elbow. Jayce knows from stolen glances that he has more inside his arm, on his shoulder blade and down his spine. It's all he can do not to pull Viktor's sleeve up, bring his arm to his lips.
'Jayce?'
'I'm sorry.'
'You need to stop apologising and start talking. Are you... were you... jealous of Elliar?'
Viktor takes a step closer, and thinking of his leg and how it must hurt by now, Jayce grabs him by the waist and lifts him up onto the desk. Viktor sucks in a surprised breath, but he doesn't protest or push back. Jayce places his hands flat on the desk on each side of Viktor's lap, and slowly, oh-so-slowly, to give him time to pull away or protest, he lowers his head on Viktor's shoulder.
He doesn't move away. He doesn't say anything. He's waiting for an answer Jayce doesn't want to give. A truth too dirty to admit. They are partners. United in their love of science and their drive to create a better world. United under the ludicrous pressure the Council is putting on them. What has sex and desire got to do with any of it? Viktor can't possibly want a workmate obsessed with him, distracted, needy...
Jayce breathes in deep—cold serpentleaf, still, but there's the scent of Viktor's skin beneath, warm and tinted by the almond smell of the soap bar they share. He opens his mouth and imagines himself biting. Imagines Viktor moaning. Imagines how he could lie down on the desk while Jayce fucks him. He's getting himself hard on fantasy alone, so what is he supposed to say?
Viktor's fingers curl around his nape, jolting Jayce back to the present. 'Elliar thanked me because I told him what the expectations were for airship traffic. I recommended he invest in that business quickly instead of sticking to a fleet of boats. That's all.' His touch is cool, his grip tightening. 'Now answer me.'
Jayce stands up and finally meets his eyes. They seem to glow in the lab's penumbra. Viktor looks stern. Concerned, expectant. Worried, even. So Jayce smiles.
'It's nothing,' he says, shaking his head. 'I'm tired, and I thought this man was imposing on you, given how he grabbed your arm. I'm glad it was nothing serious and—'
Viktor launches forward so fast, Jayce registers the pain in his lip before his movement. There's the overwhelming taste of blood, the sharp pain of fingers digging into his back and neck. He stumbles forward, shocked. Viktor's tongue presses in, not waiting for an invitation, and Jayce finally catches up. They're kissing.
Viktor is kissing him, and he desperately gets to work kissing him back.
For the second time that evening,Jayce's mind is a wall of static. But the sensations are distinct. This feels good—no, incredible. He simply can't chain thoughts together, not with Viktor arcing in his arms, pressing against him, running fingers into his hair and bunching, pulling...
Viktor yanks Jayce's head back, tearing a startled moan out of his abused lips.
'Never lie to me again,' he growls.
'I was—'
'Lying, Jayce. You've been lying to me all day, all week, every time I ask what's going on with you. You really think I'm blind. Or naive. Well, I'm neither, and my patience has run out.'
Jayce swallows hard, unsure what to say. He licks at his bleeding lip. There's a gash. Gods, it'll scar. Then he notices the dark streaks on Viktor's chin. His own blood, dripping from their kiss.
'I'm—'
'Sorry, yes.' Viktor mumbles, coming back in for more. He nibbles along his jaw, nips his ear, and yanks him around before bringing them nose to nose. 'You've been so sorry all day. Can we stop now?'
'Uhm, s-stop what?' Jayce asks, hands freezing on Viktor's waist.
'Stop pretending.'
Jayce sighs. All his pent up fear and anxiety rides out on his breath. He feels like he's deflating, falling back down to earth, and to a new reality.
'You've known... all this time?' he asks, almost shy.
'You're not that good a liar,' Viktor says with a laugh.
Jayce relaxes even further, going boneless in Viktor's embrace. His laugh is genuine, his golden eyes full of promise. He knew all along. He saw right through him and waited because he also wanted this. Wants him.
'Now stop daydreaming,' Viktor orders, 'and carry me to bed. We have to get this out of your system or we'll never get any work done tomorrow.'
Jayce is all too happy to oblige.