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He knew he was getting older when he began to scoff at the kids for their newfangled smoking devices. His teenage and young adult years were highlighted by shitty weed and poorly rolled joints and blunts. If he’d managed to coerce Jayce in their academy days, he even got the smooth smoke of a bong.
Their first time smoking together, Jayce dropped ice cubes in the neck. Viktor knew, then, that the impossible divide between them was no longer ignorable. “You use the ice catcher in a bong? Like a fucking prep?”
Jayce, so naive and sheltered, had the audacity to look haughty. “If they didn’t intend for you to use it, they wouldn’t include it!” He dropped the last cube into the neck. “Besides, I obviously checked which smoke is better. And it’s with the ice.” He pushed it over to Viktor with an encouraging flap of his hand.
Viktor rolled his eyes and flicked the lighter on, passing it over the bowl. Deep inhale. Instead of burning the back of his throat, it felt liquid as the smoke curled in his lungs. Jayce looked expectant, like he wanted a pat on the head. “Fine, you were right,” Viktor announced, voice clipped. His head dropped in defeat as Jayce fist pumped. “It’s the only thing you’ll ever be right about, so savor it, pretty boy.”
Nonetheless, Viktor was old fashioned. He smoked from a polished tobacco pipe and had become adept at rolling joints. He didn’t understand dab rigs, or pens, or wax, or god-forbid edibles. He smoked weed like it was intended: in your dank, musty room by yourself and your aching body until it kicked in. Bud was what the Zaunites of the past used, and it’s what Viktor used because he was a goddamn patriot (He was not, in fact, a patriot. He disagreed heavily with Zaun’s politics and complacency).
He was also out of weed. He was even out of kief, which he usually used in emergencies and when he was feeling fancy. He mourned the empty bowl, flecked with ashes and resin. His last organic arm was threaded with pins and needles, sharp pains shooting up to the cutoff near his shoulder. The pistons in his back unfolded with steam. Blitzcrank walked in, drawn by his sensors blaring. “Blitz, go see Jayce.” He winced, wondering why he kept the one arm in the first place. “Please. Tell him it’s urgent.” The steam golem shimmied his way through the door and out onto Emberflit Alley. Viktor collapsed in his chair, his buzz dying down too quick for his liking.
He was lost in thought, mentally noting the changes to be made when he upgraded his last organic limb. Blitzcrank shimmied back through the door like an oversized pet, with Jayce in tow. Viktor was not high enough for this. “You caught me at the perfect time,” Jayce said gleefully. He had a smudge of flour on his chin. “I was told it was an emergency?” He looked at Viktor, expression imploring. He nodded sorrowfully.
“Usually you just send him home with some drugs and a date. Why are you making house calls?”
Jayce, of course, looked smug. It was his natural face, but it was charged with extra snootiness today. “I know you like it classic, but I figured we could do a peer review while we waited for these to kick in.” Jayce unveiled two wrapped brownies. He spotted a corner piece.
Viktor scoffed. “Since when are you in the business of making edibles?”
Jayce plopped them on the table. “They’re nice when your lungs start protesting a single flight of stairs.” He tapped his chest. “We can’t all be cyborgs.”
“Actually-”
“As I was saying.” He shot Viktor a look. “They don’t kick in as fast, but you’ll feel it for a lot longer. I made them extra strong.” He winked.
Viktor was intrigued. Maybe the kiddos were onto something. “Send me the recipe later,” he mumbled. Jayce’s laugh was hearty and heart-warming.
“You want to review while we smoke?” Jayce pulled out a bag of weed.
“You treat me too well,” Viktor sighed. He would’ve kissed him if they hadn’t agreed to stop doing that before he got expelled.
Jayce’s smile was sunny and full of emotion. “Of course. But I get something out of this, too. I get to see you.”
Viktor was definitely not high enough to talk about their failed relationship, especially not while Jayce had cotton in his ears. He got very lovey when he was high. “I can’t. Not today.” He looked away, sitting up in his chair. A furtive glance showed Jayce’s wounded face. Viktor could almost see his tail droop. And, oh god, he’d be a horrible person if he let him leave like this. Humanity still plagued him, unfortunately. “Perhaps tomorrow. Or whenever you’re free next.” He bit his tongue. “I enjoy seeing you as well, and I always appreciate you and our visits.”
Jayce perked up a little. “I’m available tomorrow. I can wait till then.” His tone was tentative, open. Viktor could end it at any point and Jayce would respect it (until Piltover decided their “Hero of Tomorrow” hadn’t been doing enough soldier shit for them).
He unlocked his mask, placing it on a work table. “Maybe when we’re done with the review, we can move on to other topics.” The flush creeped up Jayce’s neck. “But, who knows what tomorrow will hold.” Viktor put his hands on Jayce’s chest, shoving him back towards the door. “You’ll have to wait to find out.” And he shut the door.
His recliner beckoned him. It was situated just so; out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the brownies that Jayce had forgotten to take with him. He noticed the corner piece was a little bigger than the other. The thought was endearing. “Well. Bon appetit.” Viktor finished it in a few bites, licking his fingers. Then, he waited.
He waited an hour before he got up, frustrated and sober, only to nearly collapse. His legs were jelly, and his brain went fuzzy and mushy. Blitzcrank walked back in, his sensors once again going off. “Oh, good god. Take me to Jayce’s, please.” Honestly, asking Jayce back to his house would give him ideas that Viktor didn’t want to crush.
Blitz’s arms were not comfortable on his fleshy arm, and the rest of him sounded like nails in a bucket as they rattled along. The journey was short and inconspicuous, as Jayce had moved to the outskirts of Piltover, nearly at the fissure. He’d gone on a spiel about the citizens constantly barging in and asking for favors, along with the professors having far too easy access to his place of residence. Viktor did not bring up that Emberflit Alley was also conveniently at the fissure line and had been for nearly a decade.
Blitz rang the doorbell when they were a hundred yards away. Jayce was at the door, already spewing an excuse about a busy schedule to whomever he thought had showed up. Viktor clambered out of Blitzcrank’s arms, his vision spinning. Jayce cut himself off abruptly. “Vik, what are you do-”
“Jayce, I have a very important question.” He leaned heavily on Blitzcrank. “Are you supposed to eat the whole brownie?”
For all his augments, Viktor’s body still relied on his central nervous system to function. This, of course, means that his hand slipped off of Blitzcrank and he thudded to the ground.
“Viktor!” Jayce was by his side in a second. Viktor saw the sky, and it was moving so very fast. “Tell me you didn’t actually eat the whole thing.”
It was hard to answer. He had to focus on making his lungs do their job. “You remembered I like the corner pieces. That was sweet.”
“Vik… you’re such a stupid genius. You’re gonna be like this for at least a day.”
His head lolled towards Jayce. “Can I spend it with you?”
Jayce smiled, an endeared and playfully exasperated smile. “I’m not letting you go home like this. Not that I don’t trust you, bud,” he called over his shoulder at Blitz. “I just think Vik would try to escape. He’s slippery.”
“Like a snake,” he slurred.
Viktor’s eyes slid shut as Blitz carried him inside Jayce’s house. Sometimes, the kids had good ideas about weed.