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Viktor was, to simply put it, tired. Not just physically tired, which was, by now, a familiar ache. No, the dizzying unawareness and sluggish warmth that he had come to associate with exhaustion was a long known feeling, to the point he almost took comfort in the gentle waves of physical tiredness. Viktor was emotionally tired. And mentally.
He kicked himself internally for that. Because how stupid was that? He had just gotten better, just gotten exactly what he needed to improve, to be happy, and yet here he was, feeling the familiar drag and numbness that came with depression.
His eyes flitted over to his nightstand, ignoring the five different pill bottles and the, franky, disgusting remnants of his last meals or snacks in the form of plates or wrappers. Instead, his focus shifted onto his alarm clock, the glaring red light containing too much familiarity for him to be disturbed by it.
3 am. It was 3 am again. He couldn’t help but sigh. Jayce would be disappointed in him again. He had been scolding Viktor lately to take care of himself. But sometimes he didn’t get it. Didn’t get the lethargic refusal of your limbs to move. Didn’t get the deep longing in his throat and chest to move and act and do what Jayce asked him to, yet the somehow stiffness and warmth of his current position and his physical exhaustion preventing him from doing so. It was frustrating.
It made him want to cry, if the even more frustrating inability to do so somehow disappeared for once. Viktor had been bottling up his feelings, holding back his tears, for so long that somehow he was unable to force them out anymore. Sure there was a moment of “weakness” (one that he would desperately welcome at this point if it meant he could just cry) where water welled up in his eyes and he would smash them shut to try and squeeze out at least a few tears, but almost every time he was left with no more than rapidly drying, cold, slightly damp eyelashes.
He couldn’t help but feel foreign in his own body. He’d had his conditions since he was small, but never this badly, even when he was still breathing in the harsh, fogged air of Zaun. The new decreasing of his health had made him feel somewhat… not himself. The pain was familiar. The aches deep in his leg and hips and back. The sting of the cold metal brace grinding into the scarred over pale flesh that once was at least somewhat unmarred. But somehow it was different, more persistent and irritating, detaching him from his own body.
His tongue swiped over his chapped lips. A nervous tick, really. Just like how he checked his watch when he had nowhere to be. Or how he picked at his scabs. Or how he pressed his fingers into anything sharp and poking and hard just to assure him he alive and present in the stupid little rudimentary universe that surrounded him. Besides, no pain pressed into his slender fingertips could ever compare to the sheer ache, the cringing, crippling agony that came with his daily pain. Not to mention on a bad pain day.
He couldn’t help but bring himself back to the not-so-distant memory of earlier that day. Heimerdinger’s face positioned in a way too frequent scowl. Jayce cringing and bashfully rubbing the back of his neck. The mess of chemicals spilled on the floor. The papers strewn about and ruined from the liquids, some sheets rapidly melting while others just slowly wilted as they began to soak.
It was all Viktor’s fault. His hip had seized up. It had sprang a sudden spasm of excruciating pain through the frail bone and minuscule muscle (that was only there so his body didn’t collapse to mush) and caused him to stifle a poorly contained wince and reach for his cane. The hurried movement for his cane caused him to knock the precariously balanced cart beside him, toppling it over, chemicals and all, onto the floor. But he didn’t even stop to pick it up, just hustled limping out the door with his cane to retrieve his pain meds.
He collapsed on his bed like a druggie, popping open his pill bottle and shoveling the single prescription pain med he was allowed into his mouth, downing it with a gulp of water. He panted, not bothering to stifle the pained whines and groans in his solitude as he waited for the meds to kick in.
Twenty minutes later, he stumbled back into the lab, willing himself up and out of the safety of his room. He didn’t want to deal with the anxiety of dealing with disappearing the next day, as much as he wished he could just curl up in a ball and not return.
Upon his return, he walked into a furious fuzzball scolding Piltover’s golden boy himself. Now this wasn't exactly a rare occurrence, but it didn’t make Viktor feel any better about the situation. If anything, it made him feel worse. Despite this, he tried his best to conceal his guilt and just sit down and work on the math he was trying to do beforehand.
When Heimerdinger had left, Jayce didn’t say anything to Viktor, just started to clean up the mess on the floor. This lack of acknowledgment, however, only seemed to freak out Viktor more. His good leg was steadily bouncing up and down at this point, and he could barely finish his work. They wrapped up in silence, and Jayce left out the door about an hour early. Now, laying and bed and thinking about it, Viktor wanted to cry.
After a bit of being bedridden at midnight, Viktor decided to get up and head to the lab. He wasn’t doing anything other than mope around anyway, and might as well be productive. So after he barely managed to make it to the lab, limping and relying heavily on his cane with every wince of pain, he flicked on the lab lights and flopped down in his chair.
The bright fluorescent lights came on after a slight buzz of warming up power, which made him wish that he had opted for his desk lamp instead of the blinding shine of light that was torturing him now, his eyes being too used to darkness. Too lazy and in too much pain to bother with turning them off and turning his lamp on instead, he just hunched over his work and started doing his math.
After a few hours of doing so, exhaustion took over and he felt himself falling asleep, which was a problem because he really didn’t feel like heading back to his room. He groaned under his breath, continuing to scribble math equations and smack his head down on the table when he needed to rest his head for a few moments.
It was like this he was found, head down on folded arms and grumbling about math. At first, the warm calloused hands on the back of his neck startled him, but when they started to rub away the knots and tension in his neck? All was forgiven, all of his usual complaints replaced with soft groans and hums.
“What’re you doing up?” came the soft voice of the man massaging his neck. The man leaned in closer, his cologne giving away his identity undeniably as the mentioned man hummed an inquisitive, “Hm?” after going without a response for too long.
“I could ask you the same, Jayce.” Viktor found himself humming out after a beat.
“One, I asked first, and two, I was getting something I needed that I left in the lab and going back to bed when I saw the light already on and you. So answer the question.”
Viktor grumbled under his breath, then responded, “I couldn’t sleep. Thought I might as well be productive.”
There was a soft low chuckle, “And you call this productive?”
Viktor managed to pry his tired eyes open to glare at him. Somehow his playful annoyance at Jayce caused him to act more than anything else. “I was being productive before this stupid mortal bodily confinement decided I needed to sleep. So I was resting my eyes on my arms and then.. well..” He trailed off, unwilling to continue the explanation.
Jayce hummed sympathetically, which usually would sicken him to the core with disgust (because he didn’t need your stupid pity thank you!), but since it was Jayce he couldn't help but feel.. happy? Yes, happy, that Jayce cared about him. “I see. Viktor how long have you been awake?”
Viktor, his eyes shut once again and a new smirk crossing his face, hummed slowly, struggling to talk quicker with his exhaustion, “Mmm about 3 minutes.”
Viktor couldn't hear Jayce rolling his eyes, but he knew he was. Viktor could, however, hear the massive, exasperated (and definitely exaggerated) sigh that followed afterwards. “I meant before you fell asleep on the desk.”
He could barely stay awake to answer the question as warm, calloused hands ran through his hair gently, stroking through it repeatedly and occasionally pressing down in places that make him groan. “I dunno like… 42 hours.”
Jayce sighed. Not the usual exasperated sigh. The sigh that made Viktor wince, open his eyes, and sit up just to look away from him out of guilt. Viktor didn’t even try to explain. Didn’t try to elaborate on all of the little distractions in his room that sucked his time away and swallowed his brain whole. Because it didn’t matter. Jayce would be mad no matter what. Jayce would lecture him no matter what. Jayce would.. well. Be disappointed in him no matter the reason. And that alone made Viktor almost regret his insomnia which, yes, he did sometimes choose. And yes, he did sometimes not take his sleeping medication.
“Viktor…” Jayce started. And oh arcane he sounded sad. Sad. Viktor had done that. He’d disappointed Jayce. He couldn’t help but shrink in on himself now, trying to make his already-too-small body way smaller, less noticeable. Despite Viktor’s already tiny size, he stuck out. Pale, sickly, “ghost-like” Viktor could always be spotted in a crowd.
Viktor wanted to cry. He wanted to let those stupid tears rip from his damp eyes. But there were two reasons he wouldn’t. The first being Jayce was there. And he didn’t want Jayce to see his misery. The second being, as he said earlier, his eyes refused to cooperate with tears.
“I’m not mad at you.” Came that soft, stupidly forgiving voice once again breaking him free from his spiral. Those gentle hands rested on his back again, driving away the chill and replacing it with a satisfying warmth he couldn’t help but lean into.
“You should be.”
“Yeah. I should be.”
It was silent. The silence was teetering on discomfort before those calloused hands began massaging again and drove the awkwardness away. Viktor couldn't help but let out a few grunts and groans at the touch, both from pain and relief.
“Come to bed?” The voice in his ear said softly, unpressuring but hopeful. And impossible to deny with those stupidly sweet words and that loving temptation.
“Okay.” Viktor relented. It wasn’t a usual thing for him to sleep in Jayce’s room, let alone his bed, but Jayce… Jayce had a nice bed. A soft comforter. Silk sheets. Fluffy pillows. It sounded all too nice to reject sinking into.
The only problem was Viktor wasn't sure he could walk. An issue that was quickly resolved by Jayce scooping him up gently, holding him close to his chest and carrying him to his room.
“You’re a mind reader. But also the love of my life and a godsend.” He mumbled, face firmly planted in Jayce’s chest.
“Just sleep now.” Came the response the second they were tucked into the bed together. Jayce pressed his forehead into Viktor’s, hazel eyes meeting amber ones.
Jayce’s form enveloped him, legs carefully tangling with his good leg, one arm curling beneath his armpit to stroke through his hair and the other gently running over his spine, counting every knob there. Viktor could feel the soft puff of Jayce’s breath on his face, could smell the mellow scent of Jayce’s cologne. And he could feel Jayce’s eyes on him even as he closed his.
Viktor craved relief from the silence, from the sharp feeling of Jayce’s eyes on him. His solution? To gently push Jayce to lay on his back and firmly place his head on Jayce’s chest. There was a soft rumbling chuckle from the new cushy pillow Viktor was laying on, one undeniably comforting and fond. Jayce’s ministrations paused for a moment as both of them got settled, then continued with just as much, if not more vigor, than before. And Viktor? There was nothing he could do but melt.
Somehow, Jayce drove the aches away. Somehow, Jayce drove the pain away. Somehow, all that Viktor wanted to do was melt into Jayce. And for not the first time in his pitiful, pathetic little life, Viktor let himself give in. Give into Jayce. Give into the warmth and comfort and protection he provided. Viktor was snappy. A brat, mostly. Especially when it came to the giant golden retriever of a lab partner he called his boyfriend. But this? This is what he lived for. The few calm moments he could relax. The ones he could just let go. Be soft and gentle and silent. To not care about being a little shit and just to care about being loved.
And Viktor? He didn’t even have to pause and think to be worried about being loved. He knew he could do unspeakably awful things. He knew he could be a bitch all day long. And regardless, Jayce, his soft, caring, loving boyfriend would love him.
And in this soft moment, where Viktor was trapped between awareness and the haze of sleep, he couldn’t help but think, things might not be that bad.