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For all the advanced scientific equipment and state-of-the-art laboratories the Academy housed, its furnaces were little more than glorified hunks of scrap. Or perhaps that was just Viktor’s crankiness talking as he cursed once more on a breath he swore he could see.
The first half hour or so without active heating had been bearable. But, as the snow outside continued to fall, and frost began to coat the exteriors of the windows, “bearable” deteriorated into “frustrating”. Opening and closing doors and ventilation ducts allowed precious traces of heat to escape with each minute ticking by. Slight tremors of the hand developed into repetitive, rhythmic shakes. Viktor had never had a terribly high tolerance for freezing temperatures, and handling cold metal certainly did not aid the situation.
At least Jayce seemed to be faring better. Viktor would catch glances now and then of his partner criss-crossing the room, darting to grab a notebook or sprocket wrench. Every time, Jayce’s sleeves were rolled to his elbows, and his movement was quick and vivacious, unhindered by the drop in temperature. The Talis boy hadn’t so much as slowed down. It seemed absolutely nothing could dampen his spirits when it came to Hextech development.
It might have annoyed Viktor, had it not been such a pleasant sight to behold.
Jayce must have caught some wind of Viktor’s grumbled cursing as he crossed the lab once more. He paused near Viktor’s workstation, looking over the clutter of half-assembled instrumentation. “How’s the calibration going, V?”
Viktor sighed, doing his best to exhale into his hands. “Slowly. The cradle is rather delicate.”
“Well, we did it once before, right? And we had a much narrower window back then. We can do it again.”
“As I recall, you had already done most of the work on that model.”
“Says the man who actually figured out how to make it do its job.”
A smile tugged at Viktor’s thin lips. Jayce always did give him too much credit for that shared night of discovery, and the successful demonstration that had resulted from it. It wasn’t he who had conducted research on the crystals in secret for years, after all. But Jayce’s words still gave Viktor a small spark of inner warmth. Being so appreciated for his work was a welcome change of pace.
“Building a new crystal housing from scratch will take time, even with your, eh… meticulous notes.” Viktor turned back towards the copper structure, rubbing his hands together as he considered the project. “And these are not exactly ideal working conditions.”
Viktor received no immediate response. Instead, after a moment of silence, the shuffling of fabric was heard, and the weight of a hefty coat was placed upon the scientist’s shoulders. Fresh remnants of Jayce’s body heat emanated from the lining and permeated Viktor’s thin uniform shirt. The gesture made him freeze in place and sit just a tad more upright; which, coincidentally, played right into Jayce’s hands. He gave his fellow scientist a kiss on the cheek, and the softness of his lips and warm affection in his eyes radiated in ways that defied simple thermodynamics.
“Don’t let yourself freeze,” Jayce instructed, as he adjusted and smoothed his House Talis coat around Viktor’s angular shoulders. “I can’t have my partner leaving me to carry this project all on my own.”
Partner. It still had a strange ring to it, one that sent chills down Viktor’s spine entirely unrelated to the furnace issues. One that brought back memories not only of their scientific triumph, but of far more than that. Shared smiles and laughs, that first breathless, stolen kiss after the pair had touched on solid ground. And all the longing stares and wandering hands that had followed in the days and weeks after. Viktor had never had a… partner before. He was still learning what exactly it entailed as he went.
“I wouldn’t dare.” Viktor smirked over his shoulder at Jayce, then sighed and rose from his seat, taking the coat with him. It nearly swallowed his significantly slimmer frame, but he paid that no mind. He was not about to shed it.
“I don’t suppose you’ve had any more luck narrowing down the materials for full-scale stress testing?”
“Actually, I put a pin in that about an hour ago,” Jayce confessed. “Mostly I’ve just been trying to start up the old wood stove.”
Viktor raised an eyebrow. “And?”
“Nothing yet.” Jayce huffed, then tapped the space heater with his boot. “Never thought I’d see something less reliable than the Academy furnaces, yet here we are.”
“This room had been vacant for some time before we were granted the space.” As he spoke, Viktor’s gaze wandered over the cabinets. He opened a few and rifled through them, pulling out select pieces of glassware as he went. “Apparently, regular equipment checks don’t apply to laboratories that are deemed out of use.”
Jayce shrugged off the explanation — if a bit reluctantly, judging by his furrowed brows. Clearly, broken machinery in any form offended his sensibilities, no matter the justifications. But he didn’t have long to pout about the reluctant heater before Viktor’s change of gear had his attention. A hot plate was being added to the glassware, and no doubt Jayce had been able to conclude that Viktor had no intention of using that on the crystal.
“What's that for?”
“Heating.”
“Ha, ha. What are you heating, then?”
“Sweetmilk.” Viktor made his way to the small cold storage unit in the corner, cane clicking against the tile floor as he went. “If we’re going to focus on getting warm instead of working, I can think of nothing better.”
“Wait. You stocked our lab fridge with sweetmilk?”
“After giving you the display case for your collection of crystals, yes. I like to think I am entitled to my own indulgences.”
Viktor had made certain to stock appropriate provisions the moment they had secured a lab space. Aside from coffee, sweetmilk was one of his favorite drinks, and in his mind, both were equally fundamental building blocks of survival. Really, he should probably secure some form of nourishment that didn’t involve liquid caffeine and sugar. But he had his priorities.
“Am I to take that to mean that you would like a glass as well?”
Jayce laughed. “Somehow, you always find new ways to surprise me. But yes. I’d love some. So long as you put it in an actual mug instead of a beaker.”
Viktor, a playful twinkle in his eye, smiled and lifted the glass in question. “I think this is more fun, don’t you?”
“Not if I’m poisoned by some old dried up acid in the process.”
“Come now, Jayce. The odds of there being residue enough to actually kill you are negligible.”
“How you passed your lab safety courses, I’ll never understand.”
“So little faith,” Viktor tutted. “But very well. I will do my best not to poison you.”
Tease though he might, Viktor knew better than to tempt fate when it came to equipment of indeterminate origin. And so, he defaulted to something more agreeable. Two Academy branded mugs, recently washed and well-loved, lived by a small assortment of sugar packets that had accumulated over time, after being slowly and individually stolen from the student lounge. The mugs were fetched and placed beside the hot plate, as Viktor filled a currently empty large beaker clearly labeled “CLEAN WATER” with dunpor cream. It would be trickier to heat effectively with such unconventional equipment, but as long as he kept stirring and watched carefully, Viktor was confident in his ability to get the job done.
Once he had cream and spices in hand, Viktor’s movements fell into old, familiar patterns. Sweetmilk was something he could create without so much as thinking about it twice. He had made it a thousand times before, after all, ever since his mother had first taught him how so many years prior. Few things provided him with the same sense of simple comfort as that particular drink.
Perhaps that was one more aspect of his life he could now share with Jayce.
During Viktor’s preparation, Jayce’s work on the heater had resumed. The occasional metallic clangs and creaks provided a soundtrack for Viktor’s work. His new task was being punctuated by the noises of repair, every stir of a spoon resounding with the twist of a wrench. The cacophony formed an oddly soothing sort of white noise that Viktor was certain no one but he and Jayce would ever care to listen to. It was almost startling to him when they were interrupted by a triumphant exclamation.
“Ha! Yes!”
Viktor turned and leaned against the table as he poured helpings of sweetmilk into the mugs. “Has victory finally been achieved?”
“I think so.” Jayce hurriedly grabbed a few shredded scraps of paper to use for kindling. “Now maybe we can have a fire without burning the place down.”
Good, Viktor thought. The little wood stove might not be the same all-encompassing heat the Academy furnaces could provide, but it was still better than nothing. Viktor made his way across the room to see Jayce’s good work, taking a sip from his mug as he went.
Jayce clearly hadn’t been afraid to get his hands dirty. His hair had escaped the confines of its gel prison, and a few flyaway strands fell disheveled around his face. Fresh smears of charcoal decorated his bare arms, and a few even crept upon his otherwise pristine uniform. He beamed at Viktor regardless, though, clearly too high on his engineering victory to care much about the state of his dry cleaning. His smile was infectious, and Viktor couldn’t help but mirror it. This was how he loved Jayce best: hard at work, chipping away at a difficult problem, and so very thrilled at every hard-won inch of progress.
“In that case, you have earned a reward.” He gave a little nod back towards the table, to send his partner off so that he may claim his own mug. “Go on. It’s hot and fresh. I can start the fire.”
Once Jayce followed his directions, Viktor set his mug down beside the wood stove, to briefly exchange his drink for a book of matches. With a precise, practiced flick, a tiny flame sprung to life. He held the lit match to the kindling, allowing the fire to find its footing before tossing the little splinter of wood to join the stove’s contents.
A hum that veered dangerously close to being a moan sounded from behind him. “It’s perfect,” Jayce declared as he pulled up alongside Viktor, hands wrapped around his mug of sweetmilk. “What spice blend do you use?”
“That is a secret.”
“Wow. My own partner, keeping secrets. Unbelievable.”
“Come now, Jayce. I must retain some of my aura of mystery,” Viktor chided.
“Well I hope maintaining your image is worth all the cups of sweetmilk you’ll have to make for me.”
“Hmm. I believe I can shoulder the burden.”
Jayce chuckled and shook his head at Viktor’s unflappable attitude. He pulled up a chair to the fire, settling in with a comfortable sigh. His radiant features almost glowed golden in the firelight, from the scar embedded within his right eyebrow to the hint of stubble along his squared, strong jawline. Gods, the man was beautiful. Viktor sometimes had difficulty believing that Jayce hadn’t been simply built within the Talis family forges, sculpted from bronze and gold and pure marble in the way so many of Piltover’s grandiose buildings were. How could any man so physically perfect not be a statue commemorating some ancient mythic hero?
And yet, that very man turned to him, smiled softly, and gestured to an empty chair not far away.
“Come on, V. You deserve a break too.”
Viktor all but dragged himself back to complete awareness, processing the request. True, he could simply sit alongside Jayce. But as drawn in as he was, Viktor saw another opportunity in front of him. He tilted his head ever so slightly, eyes glancing over Jayce, before giving a nod as he internally reached a verdict.
He let his cane lean against a nearby wall, shifting to take the weight off of his right leg. He winced ever so slightly at the spike of discomfort, but otherwise pressed on without too much issue. He wouldn’t let a simple thing like that deter him. Rather than sit in the offered chair, Viktor positioned himself directly in front of Jayce. Then, without batting an eye, he sat himself sideways upon his partner’s lap. After shifting briefly and taking a sip from his mug, Viktor directed a self-satisfied little smirk towards his partner.
“I think I would prefer to sit here, if you have no objections.”
Jayce’s face was bright red. He stared at Viktor, eyes slightly widened, apparently stricken speechless. It took several instances of opening and closing his mouth before he finally managed to stammer out a reply.
“You— you, uh— I mean, sure. Yeah. No objections here.”
Ah, Jayce. So adorable when flustered. Viktor laughed and leaned against his partner’s chest. He made a mental note to himself: put in an effort to fluster Jayce more often.
As Viktor also sighed and settled in, he felt Jayce’s arms slowly, gently encircling him. A chin rested against his shoulder, and warm, steady breath puffed against his cheek. Ordinarily, such intimacies would cause Viktor to shudder and retract from contact. But Jayce, as always, was different. Only he had the unique privilege of being let into Viktor’s inner world. And so, rather than shy away, Viktor leaned into the embrace. His eyes closed briefly, before cracking just barely open to watch the now strongly flickering firelight.
Silence reigned after that. For precisely how long, Viktor couldn’t say. It was so very easy to lose track of time when he was so thoroughly comfortable. It was only a murmur from his partner that pulled him out of his peaceful trance.
“Hey, V?”
“Mmm?”
“Can I ask you something?”
“No, Jayce, I do not intend to give you your coat back anytime soon.”
“No, not that. Something else.”
Odd. Jayce was usually so quick to leap into banter. His hesitation made Viktor turn his lazy gaze to the side, in a better attempt to read his partner. What he saw was Jayce’s decidedly serious expression, set and almost determined, clearly taking whatever this conversation was with gravity. That sobered Viktor up as well. He dropped his joking tone and gave Jayce a slight nod, as permission to continue.
“Go on, then.”
Jayce took a deep breath, releasing one hand from around Viktor’s waist in order to smooth down his hair. Viktor recognized the gesture as a nervous fidget; the last time he had seen it, Jayce had been requesting a campus laboratory space from the Academy board. What could possibly compare in profundity to such a proposal?
“Well, I know this might sound a little strange. I mean, it’s kind of sudden. We haven’t known each other that long, and this will only be our first holiday season together, and– ”
“Jayce,” Viktor said, gently cutting off his partner’s rambling thoughts. “You can ask me anything you wish. What is the matter?”
Wide, honey-colored eyes fell upon Viktor’s face. Jayce’s anxiety slowly melted from his expression, though his seriousness remained. There was a second hesitation, but Viktor said nothing to prompt him further. He would speak when he was ready, after all. And whatever it was, Viktor was confident in his ability to address it.
“Do you want to come over for the holidays? To my mom’s house? With me?”
… Well. It seemed he stood corrected.
“... What?”
“It… it wouldn’t be anything too fancy,” Jayce explained. “It’s just my mom and me. We cook dinner. Sing some carols. Give each other presents. Just a quiet little family night. And… I’d like you to be there, too. If you want to be.”
And just like that, Jayce had flipped the script. Now it was Viktor’s turn to be speechless. No witty remark, no sarcastic one-liner, presented itself for him to utilize. None seemed quite appropriate. Jayce wanted him, a fellow scientist he had met a mere few months ago under questionable circumstances, to be with his family for the holidays? Viktor’s mouth opened briefly, though no sound emerged. He searched Jayce’s face, almost expecting to find some hint of their usual merriment and teasing. But he found none. All he saw was a nearly painful sincerity, and hope for a positive reply.
“You truly want me there?”
“Of course I do,” Jayce stated, as though it were the simplest thing in the world. “You’re my partner, Viktor. I want you to be a part of my life. All of it. This included.”
Something deep in Viktor’s chest swelled. Holidays long passed flashed through his mind. Nights lit by candles and huddled around the family furnace, wrapped in extra blankets to stave off the cold. Simple, handmade gifts, love and labor providing what money could not. Sweetmilk pressed into a child’s hands, with a parent’s smiling laughter to accompany it. All things Viktor thought he had lost a long time ago. His years since coming to Piltover had been lonely and secluded. He hadn’t celebrated the season in years. Could he even do so properly anymore?
The swell reached Viktor’s eyes, threatening to spill over. “I… would hate to impose.”
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Jayce continued, sensing Viktor’s sudden emotional turbulence and trying to provide him with an out. “It’s okay if you say no, really. I just thought, it’s as good a time as any for you to meet my mom properly, and it wouldn’t feel right to just let you be alone at this time of year. And honestly, I… can’t really picture it without you,” he admitted. Jayce smiled, softly, sheepishly. “Not after these past few months. Call me mushy or sentimental if you want, but it’s true.”
He wasn’t joking. Jayce really wanted Viktor to be that ingrained into his life. Not just professionally, but personally. Suddenly, those stolen kisses and suggestive glances were no longer mere flirtations. They were something deeper, more personal and profound. And a butterfly fluttered in Viktor’s gut upon realizing that he very much liked the thought of that.
“So…” Jayce concluded, searchingly, “there'll be a spot for you at the dinner table. If you want it.”
Long, slender fingers, trembling ever so slightly, tilted up Jayce’s chin, and Viktor pressed his lips to those of his partner. He was careful at first, but found himself melting into the touch just as much as any other. His hand slid onto Jayce’s cheek, and he could feel a returned caress on the back of his neck, fingers tangling themselves into his messy curls. His heart no longer swelled. It burned. Burned with adoration and longing and that indefinable joy of realizing that yes, he was loved as dearly as he loved in return. By the time they broke apart, the cold of the lab couldn’t have been further from Viktor’s mind.
“Well. How could I possibly refuse such an offer?”