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A knock on the door. If it was another reporter... "We are closed," shouted Jayce towards the door. "Happy Progress Day and enjoy the rest of your night."
"Indeed," said a familiar robotic voice from behind.
Jayce picked up his hammer and swung it around, the thing lighting up with voltaic energy. The darkness of the lab lit up showing his old friend and current nemesis.
"Happy Progress Day, old friend," said Viktor before a deep disturbing chuckle reverberated against the walls.
"Get out," shouted Jayce, "I will call security!"
Surprisingly Viktor took a step back, and put his hands up placatingly. "No need for that, Jayce. I just wanted to say that there are no hard feelings for today. I understand why you rejected me."
Jayce pursed his lips before putting the hammer down. Something told him that Viktor wasn't going to go all murderous-rampage on him now. Probably got it out of his system earlier.
"Did you? Because I recall after I didn't take your schematics, you interrupted my speech," Jayce paused. "With lasers."
"Ah, yes, well," Viktor somehow looked sheepish despite being a metal monster. "I got carried away. I am apologizing."
"Alright then," Jayce crossed his arms. "Apologize."
"I just did."
Jayce rolled his eyes. "You didn't. You didn't actually say sorry, you said you were doing it. Also an apology comes with some sort of promise to not do that again. Which I very much doubt."
Viktor... It was hard to see what Viktor felt with the metal on him. Couldn't read his face, and his body language was muffled by the metal.
"I am... Sorry. About the lasers. And interrupting your speech. But I don't think I can promise I would not do it again."
"Apology rejected, you can leave now." Jayce put his hand on the hammer hilt.
"What?" came the confused modulated voice. "I said sorry!"
Jayce scoffed, "You've been spending too much time with machines, Vik. Or maybe too much time with your minions. That's not how apologies work."
Oh, Jayce could see the rage now. Viktor's shoulders trembled and the claw on his shoulder shook and flexed. Jayce gripped his hammer tighter, ready to swing.
Suddenly, Viktor's hand rose up to his face and ripped off the metal mask, letting Jayce see his old friend's enraged expression.
"Professor Heimerdinger flung me off a roof!"
Jayce sputtered, shocked at suddenly seeing Viktor's face, and those golden eyes again. "You survived though!"
"Of course!" said Viktor enraged, his arms gesticulating widely, his face tensed up and eyes flaring. "As if you could ever kill me with your mediocre contraptions," scoffed the machine herald.
Viktor crossed his arms and pouted. Were those... Tears in his eyes? Nothing could have prepared Jayce for this. A death beam trying to cut through his armour, sure. A monstrous android assassin, fine. The rumoured ballistic bot that got more powerful the more it shot. All that would have been preferable to seeing this.
"Viktor..." Jayce started to move but stopped when he saw the other man flinch and close his eyes. "What's wrong? What's really wrong here?"
Slow steps. "Viktor. Please."
The other man turned to face him. Tears. It was strange. Jayce had never seen him cry. Not when Viktor was in the hospital bed on the verge of death, wracked with pain. Viktor was strong. In fact, with the new armour and modifications, Viktor had never been stronger.
"Bah," and quickly the mask was put back on with a click. "I am sorry that you had to see such an unsightly scene, Jayce. I will take my leave."
Wait. I want to help. Please let me help. But none of these words could come out. They all seemed wrong. This was all wrong. They were never like this, not back then, and especially not now. Professional associates. Rivals. Brothers. But this... This was different.
"Are... Are you dying, Viktor?" asked Jayce in a weak voice.
"What?" came a shocked voice, the death claw of Viktor's armour flexing in confusion. "Whatever made you come up with that conclusion, Jayce?"
"Well you're calling me Jayce—"
"—that is your name—"
"—when normally it's 'Man of Tomorrow' or 'Piltover's Dog'. Actually, could you call me 'Ferros Swine' next time we meet? I have a bet with Reggie—"
"—now see here, Jayce—"
"There you go again! And you took off your mask in front of me! And I saw you were..." Jayce faltered. "Upset."
"I was not upset."
Jayce looked at him, with a look. "Yeah, I'm not buying it. Unless that's some new sort of android lubricant, those were tears. Viktor. Come on, I can't solve this without you."
"Solve?" and the volume raised up from the terrifying machine man. "Solve! Solve this? You mean the mystery of why I am here, why I took off my mask, why I even bothered to try to help you this Progress Day of all days? What variable could you be missing? You surmised I must have been dying and full of regrets. What regrets would I have?"
Jayce stood there with his brows furrowed and his hand on his chin. A puzzle. He concentrated. But there was just one thing...
"Did you just miss me?"
Viktor's gears stopped and clicked shut. Unnaturally still now, even the ever moving claw was stone. Before it started up, Viktor moved about the lab.
"Missed you? Ha, the only thing I missed was the opportunity to show... Show you up..." But then the sounds of heavy breathing came out, rough and modulated. A tinny cough before Viktor pulled off his mask again, using his metal arm to support him on the desk, and that's when Jayce saw it.
Petals fluttering down. Specks of blood.
"What... What is that? You are dying! I was right!" Jayce couldn't help but cheer a bit at being correct. It was just the academic in him. Theory proven. His old friend was dying, just like he surmised. Wait. What?
"You're dying." It caught up with him. "It's—"
"It's Ionian Flower Disease. I was working," and Viktor coughed again, and more petals fluttered down. Tears streaming again. Jayce couldn't help but be mesmerised at Viktor's real face. Was it always like that? Always so... Interesting?
"I was working," Viktor started up again, "on a cure for sump rot as you know. Worked with an upcoming Chembaron in Zaun." Viktor smirked, "Lovely woman. You might know her. Your friend, the Sheriff certainly does."
Ignore the barb, there's more here. He's just trying to get your hackles up so that you'll say something stupid and then he can get all crazy machine god on you. Jayce made a mental note to pass the tip to Caitlyn later though.
"I thought she would be a good new partner on the cure for those afflicted by the Zaun Grey. But she was too ambitious, like many of those I choose as my lab partners."
Jayce noted the wry smile. There was just so much emotion behind that metal mask, and maybe before that mask was put on, that Jayce never saw. But it was so rare, so impossible to see his old partner's face now... Jayce couldn't help but take note of every single thing.
"She had the rare cultivars, and I had the technology. But after stealing some of my remote flashbomb array schematics, she went ahead and poisoned me."
"Okay... So why have you come to me then, Vik? Shouldn't you be finding the antidote?" Jayce was puzzled. "I mean, I could... Make a gyroscopic seat that could spin the flowers out of you?"
"What? Don't be ridiculous!"
"Hey," said Jayce, stung. "That's just a first draft idea!"
Viktor groaned, before coughing again. Yellow daffodil petals. "You're..." Another cough. "Such an idiot." Then a sly smile, "Glad to see you're the same meathead you always were."
"For the sake of our old friendship, I'll choose to ignore that." Jayce would also ignore the warm feeling that was growing in the pit of his stomach when he saw that smile lilt on Viktor's face.
"So kind of you, a gentleman of Piltover indeed." Viktor pushed up to stand up tall. "I also hoped that for the sake of our old friendship you would grant me a boon."
Ah, so this was it. A long winded spiel, some weird probably curable disease to gather sympathy, then bam, asking for something like a hextech crystal or maybe a prototype, maybe this was all just a stalling technique while Viktor used some kind of machinery to steal—
"I request that you kiss me."
—his blueprints—wait what?
"Ahem, now if you could."
Jayce's jaw dropped open.
Viktor smirked, "Oh, I should have asked for this years ago, the look on your face. Actually..." And the man lifted a finger to press on some button on his chestplate, the centre of it flashing.
"There, I have taken a picture for posterity. I can mail you the photo if you'd like—"
"Viktor..."
"—but if you want it framed you'll have to do it yourself—"
"Viktor."
"—what size would you want it to be? Pocket or portrait? Or maybe desk sized so you can see your face every day"
"Viktor!"
"Yes?" said Viktor with an expression that was way too innocent for a man who had incited three mechanical army attacks over the past two years.
"What do you mean kiss you?"
Is this what it looked like when Viktor was shy, or bashful? What? Who was this man? Ah, no, he's scowling again. That's cute. Wait, what?
"Blasted disease. Just kiss me now so I can get over it. Please. Jayce." Viktor started to take steps towards him, almost stumbling, like a man in the Shuriman desert going towards a well.
The man actually did stumble though, and his heavy frame fell onto Jayce's chest. The metal was heavy, but Jayce was strong enough to hold Viktor.
"You alright there, bud?" whispered Jayce.
Viktor looked up and, spirits, did he always look this adorable?
"Ionian Flower Disease," started Viktor. "Is a unique yet deadly disease that can only be cured by... A kiss." Oh wow, Viktor could blush too, huh?
"Alright?" said Jayce, holding Viktor to his chest. "So why not pucker up with some Zaunite? Why me?"
Viktor groaned and put his face into Jayce's chest and mumbled.
"Uh? Hello? I can't hear you with you doing that. Oh is that why you use the mask? To increase your voice volume? I guess that could make it so you could be heard even if you throw yourself into the arms of handsome men." Jayce smiled down at Viktor's face which popped up to scowl at his comment.
"Because," said Viktor before sighing. "It has to be from someone you love."
"Oh." Jayce's impressive mind stopped. Just nothing. For once the constant calculations and thinking stopped.
It was just this moment. The stillness of the air, the moon in the window. Fireworks from late night Progress Day celebrations flashed and illuminated Viktor's face.
"Please. Don't make me suffer like this. Just kiss me already—umph!"
Jayce kissed him. The taste of blood and the sweet fragrance of flowers filled his lungs. Viktor's lips opened up beautifully and soft.
Jayce pulled back, dizzy. "Was... Was that... Good? Are you cured?"
Viktor's pupils were dilated, and his breath was deep and heavy. "Oh I am most definitely cured, Man of Tomorrow. Already my lungs are clearing up."
Viktor leaned up and gave a peck on Jayce's lips. "Thank you, old friend." The smile on Viktor's face was radiant. More fireworks lit up the lab. They were holding hands. Huh. When did that happen?
Viktor pulled away though, too soon. Picking up his mask off the desk, looking at it for a moment before putting it back on.
"Thank you," came the machine's voice, before turning away and walking efficiently toward the door. Jayce felt his shoulders drop. So, guess this didn't mean anything. Except...
"Wait so this means you love me?"
The door creaked open. "Oh, yes," and for once Jayce didn't hate the weird voice filter because if he had to hear that from Viktor's real soft voice, his legs would give out.
"By the way, I wouldn't have been cured if you didn't love me back. This has been a most enlightening Progress Day. I will see you again soon. Jayce."
And with a wave of a metal claw, his old partner was gone.
Jayce sat there with a dopey smile on his face before the words finally hit him.
"Wait, what?"
Jayce stood up and ran towards the door, and opened it to see that Viktor was already gone. How... How was he going to see him again?
"Viktor..." whispered Jayce, before turning around to head back into his lab. That's when he saw, burned into the wall next to the door the message: Meathead, and an arrow pointing at his lab.
"Viktor!" yelled Jayce into the open night air. He swore he could hear mechanical laughter ringing somewhere out in the street.
A week later Jayce would receive an unflattering picture of himself in the mail. It would be framed, and signed "To the Man of Tomorrow, from Yours Truly."
Jayce kept it on his desk despite being subjected to some rumours and some ribbing from his staff, smiling every time he saw it.