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From Viktor and Jayce’s days at Piltover’s Academy, they’d never been alone for Christmas. Despite their renowned bitter rivalry, their tradition to spend the winter holidays together had been solidified for years. It was a day to spend with an old friend, to properly mourn their deteriorated relationship; it was a day to remember who had died when they parted, and who had come out with deep-running scars.
Jayce considered it an unspoken tradition. They would swap houses each year, something they'd done at the academy, and sit in silence for an hour before someone worked up the nerve to break it. No one else was allowed inside during their time, and no one was allowed to speak to them about it. The only thing their colleagues knew, for sure, is that it put them both in emotional turmoil for the days following their meeting.
It was Jayce’s turn to host this year. He did the bare minimum when it came to decorating, which Viktor always seemed to appreciate (he’d never admit it, but he decorated exclusively for Viktor’s visit). The host was never obligated to do much, only to have enough alcohol and maybe some apple cider if they were feeling especially festive. They didn’t even do a gift exchange; they fancied themselves a little more sophisticated, opting to promise to visit more often but never actually doing so.
The main-stay in their Christmas visits was getting piss drunk and crying into each other’s arms until they barely toed the line of embarrassment. If either of them crossed it, the tenuous nature of their tradition might shatter and leave them both wrung out. Even if it was only the two of them, both men’s dignity had a staying power in their meetings. They could never truly cross the picket fence, only intertwine their fingers between it in the homoerotic way that had people calling them “close, like brothers,” to even out the sexual tension no one wanted to acknowledge.
The meeting time was generally agreed upon to be around eight at night. This gave the other ample time to see the Christmas lights left on by the citizens of Piltover or Zaun (but mostly Piltover) and to maybe have a sense of Christmas cheer before squandering it by drinking. After years of this, years of the anxiety building up and hoping it wasn’t the year one of them threw in the towel, it seemed Viktor had done so. He was late.
Jayce was not worried. He was simply resigned to the fact that Viktor no longer wanted to see him. So, he called Viktor’s emergency line to curse him out. It rang for a few moments before the line went dead. Which meant Jayce now had to go to Zaun to scream at him in person. On Christmas. Jayce would be disturbing the man’s neighbors, and it would be all Viktor’s fault.
Thirty minutes later, when Jayce banged on Viktor’s door, he felt like a scorned lover. It was ridiculous that he’d trekked down to Zaun just to see his old lab partner the one time a year they’d basically promised not to maim each other. It was even more ridiculous that Jayce felt the gnawing sadness and loneliness that Viktor left in his chest. He went through the five stages of grief in the 2 minutes he stood on Viktor’s porch.
He heard the deadbolt unlock, then the cogs in the other locks shift. The door stood ajar, and Viktor’s pallid face looked out. His hair was slicked back with sweat, and his eyes were puffy. “Jayce, what are you doing here?” Viktor’s trembling hand opened the door further.
“It’s Christmas, Vee. It was supposed to be at my house this year.”
Viktor closed the door, leaning his forehead against it. “Is it?” His body, languid, slunk towards his couch. “I could’ve sworn it was Christmas Eve.”
“Are you feeling okay, Vik? You seem ill.”
“I most definitely am.” Viktor’s eyes widened a fraction. “You should not be here, Jayce. I don’t want to make you sick.”
Jayce waved him off, the sadness that had been festering in his chest scrabbling away. “I’ve got a good immune system.” He started opening cabinets, looking for anything edible. It seemed Viktor owned nothing of the sort “Any place near here got soup?”
“Jericho’s.”
“Then I’ll be back.”
Viktor was languishing on his couch when Jayce got back, questionable soup in tow. “Jayce, I am suffering immensely. Let me die already. It is my time.”
Jayce rolled his eyes. “You’re such a baby, Vee. How have you survived this long without me?”
Viktor grabbed Jayce’s wrist. “Only knowing that I can see you again has kept me going. I would’ve perished long ago if I couldn’t look forward to being with you.”
Well. Viktor was off his rocker on cold medicine, clearly. Not even a few cups of spiked eggnog could get Viktor sloshed enough to admit something like this. If Jayce was honest, his ego was growing considerably. “As much as I love you finally pouring your heart out to me, you need to sleep. Preferably not on your hard-ass couch. And after you’ve eaten.” Jayce jostled the bag, heard the chunks in the liquid hit the styrofoam container. “Hopefully you can stomach it.”
“Hey,” Viktor slurred, “don’t talk shit about Jericho’s food. If you’d get off your high horse and try it, maybe you’d stop settling for the bland Piltover food you like.”
Jayce’s huffed. “Piltover food is not bland. We’re the trade center of the world!”
“Piltover food isn’t bland, but the specific food you like is.” Viktor wrinkled his nose. “That’s why you aren’t allowed to cook anymore.”
“That’s why?”
“Your chicken was disgusting, Jayce. Even Blitz wouldn’t touch it.”
“He’s a robot, I wouldn’t trust him to have taste.”
“He ran his own dating service, he has plenty of taste.”
Jayce guffawed. “Oh, yeah? Who’d he pair together?”
Viktor sat up haughtily. “Blitz is perfectly good at matchmaking! He even predicted Vi and Caitlyn would get together.”
“I could’ve predicted that! It’s like watching newlyweds before their honeymoon.”
Viktor waved his words off. “I’m too tired for this.” He laid down, his back to Jayce.
“Can’t sleep on the couch, Vik.” Jayce picked him up, throwing him over his shoulder to a stuttering Viktor.
“It’s amazing how you haven’t dated anyone in the years since the academy. You’re such a romantic!” Viktor gritted out, hands pressing on Jayce’s shoulder to get out of his iron grip.
“I haven’t dated anyone because I’m not interested in anyone.”
Viktor’s movements stopped for a moment. He seemed to deflate slightly, and he flopped back down on Jayce’s back. He opened Viktor’s bedroom door, and lightly tossed him onto the bed. “I will get the soup,” Jayce said resolutely. “You will get comfortable.” Viktor was huffy but nodded. “Good boy.”
Jayce did not want to unpack anything he might’ve seen on Viktor’s face, so he hurried from the room. He grabbed the soup and the one plastic spoon Viktor kept in its own drawer. Jayce should probably take him to Ikea. Perhaps on one of their promised afternoons together that always fell through.
Viktor was curled into a ball when Jayce put the soup on his nightstand. “Thank you,” came Viktor’s muffled voice. A stray arm felt around for the cup until Jayce put it in his hand. There was a single desk chair in his bedroom, one that was meant entirely for him. Viktor had told him he didn’t do work at that desk, only piled random shit on there to make the room seem more lived in. It would’ve been sad, maybe even pitiable, if Jayce didn’t do the same thing to his own house.
“I wasn’t going to miss it on purpose,” Viktor muttered through loud slurps. “I really thought it was tomorrow.”
“I know,” Jayce said.
“I would’ve showed up, and you would’ve been in shambles thinking I missed Christmas,” Viktor teased.
“Yeah.”
Viktor didn’t respond to that, only continuing to eat. “You want a bite?” He asked, holding out the spoon. Jayce shook his head. They continued to sit in silence. “I wish I could see you more often,” Viktor began. “It seems that the one thing I can never rid myself of is my greed for you. One day isn’t enough for me. It hasn’t been in a long time.”
Jayce sat back in his chair, resting his ankle on his knee. “If we continue this conversation, there’s no going back.” He watched Viktor mull it over in his head, then sit up and face him. He had his blanket pulled around his shoulders.
“I don’t know if I can continue as we are, right now, without losing a part of me.” Viktor took a deep breath. “I don’t have a lot of them left, you know.”
Usually Jayce was the comedic relief in these situations, but Viktor’s comment had him doubling over, mostly out of fear and a terrible anguish for this man. “Why now?”
“I can blame it on the cold medicine,” Viktor said simply.
“Har Har. You could’ve blamed it on the alcohol any other year.”
Viktor looked away, scratching the skin of the arm still organic. “You didn’t, so I felt I couldn't either.”
Apparently, they were making up for their one hour of silence at the beginning through achingly long and awkward pauses in between their sentences. “I’ve loved you since our academy days, Jayce. You were always the bright star I could hide behind. It was okay if you were in the spotlight, as long as I was still important to you.” Viktor reached a tentative hand out to Jayce’s. A question, hopeful. Jayce had a decision to make.
He took Viktor’s outreaching hand, clasping their fingers together. “Viktor, you’ve always been the most important. It’s been you, for the beginning.” He released a small sigh. “Even when you left.” Jayce laughed nervously, his thumb running over Viktor’s flesh.
Viktor’s skin prickled under Jayce’s ministrations. “I stayed here to get away from you. It was too hard, to see you, and know how you saw me. I’m,” Viktor paused again, sniffling. “changed. For better or for worse.”
“You’re still my Vee, just with a few augmentations.”
Jayce’s eyes registered, too late, that Viktor was crying. His metal hand touched the top of Jayce’s, freezing his skin. “I’m not the same. I’ve been here for years trying to get rid of everything that made me susceptible to you, Jayce.” Tears leaked down Viktor’s cheeks. “And I failed.”
Jayce got up, and sat next to Viktor on the bed. “Is it wrong for me to be glad? Because I’m kinda happy you’re still mostly you. The you I fell for.”
Viktor’s head swiveled quickly to Jayce, eyes still welling up. “So you didn’t date because of me?”
Jayce slapped a hand over his face. “Yes,” he said slowly. “I have been in love with you since I met you.”
Viktor was cautious, making sure Jayce was aware of his movements. His metal hand touched Jayce’s cheek, pulling him in. He stopped before their lips brushed. “Is this okay?” he whispered, hot breath curling between them.
“Always, Vee.”
There was nothing fast or harsh about the years of pent up romance in the kiss; it was soft, ready to carry everything within their lifetime. And they were ready to wait, to build up this thing between them that had been forced to burn at an ember for a decade. For the first time since Piltover Academy, they saw each other the next day.