Chapter Text
“Go out with me,” A voice says, pulling Viktor out of his reading stupor. “Sometime.”
Viktor looks up to find none other than the Academy’s Golden Boy, captain to the rugby team and second-best when it comes to grades in his class, Jayce Talis. He briefly looks around, searches for answers where there are none, and looks up to Jayce again.
He swallows the mouthful of the cafeteria’s specialty —a simple ham & cheese sandwich— and wipes his mouth clean with a napkin before uttering, stupidly, “Pardon me?”
"I think you're really smart and funny. Very attractive, too," Jayce pauses and takes a deep breath; the book Viktor had been reading closes abruptly from where it was resting on the cafeteria table, and Viktor's finger twitches as he realizes he was holding the bookmark in his other hand. "I'm asking you out."
"I— um," Viktor racks his brain for anything to say, and he looks down, mournfully, to the book without his bookmark in it. Jayce looks at him, then the book, and rushes to open it in the page he recalls Viktor was reading. Viktor takes the book from his warm hands and realizes it is the page he was reading. His treacherous heart skips a beat. "Is this some sort of joke?" He ends up muttering; the longer he takes to reply, the more people around them notice the unusual exchange.
"No, it's not," Jayce scoffs. "It pains me to hear you think so poorly of me, Viktor. I understand there's barely been any interaction between us despite us being classmates and roommates, but I just thought letting you know how I feel would be better than... um, you not knowing?"
Viktor shrinks further in the uncomfortable cafeteria chair and sighs. "They say ignorance is bliss."
Jayce steps back from where he's standing in front of Viktor, suddenly looking smaller than he's ever been, and Viktor realizes his mistake far too late. By the time his own words echo in his mind, Jayce has turned around and headed for the rugby field.
The whispers and deriding looks take no longer than a few seconds after Jayce has stormed out to reach his ears, and Viktor wants nothing more than to be swallowed by the merciful Mother Earth.
He rejected Jayce?
Just who does he thinks he is?
How does a fucking cripple get the chance to date Jayce, and not me?
He's supposed to be the smartest person in his class, but I'm starting to wonder if his grades have more to do with the fact that Heimerdinger is his guardian than his alleged shrewdness. Who in their right mind rejects someone like Jayce? And so easily?
I would've done anything to date someone like Jayce, but I'm not half as boring, ugly or able as Viktor is. Perhaps he's just Jayce's type.
When Mother Earth doesn't swallow him whole —as he's sure he doesn't deserve that mercy—, he closes his book, takes the cookie and carton sweetmilk that were left from his tray, and storms out, too, towards the rugby field.
Viktor was never bothered by the sound his cane made in the past, but now, he feels far too self-conscious to not be troubled by it; he wonders if he'll ever be able to walk without aid, and sighs when he looks down at his right leg. Perhaps he can use a leg brace, depend a little less on the cane; but his chance at drafting and creating a leg brace went out of the cafeteria's window when he spoke without thinking first.
Jayce and his family would've helped Viktor to create one at the forge had he asked, and had he not rejected Jayce without pondering if the way his heart fluttered when Jayce was close was an indicator of the way he felt, too, and not an acute heart disease like he'd initially thought it was.
The tightness in his chest makes him slow down a little, but when he at last reaches the rugby field, he realizes he took far longer than he normally would to cross the cafeteria, take a few turns, and make it to the field; their practice match had already started, their training over long ago, and he realizes his opportunity at apologizing and setting things right was also thrown out of a window the moment he set his eyes on Jayce and the beautiful student from Noxus —Mel, if he recalls correctly—, talking a little too close to each other.
For someone who claimed to be interested in him, Jayce sure moves on fast; and why wouldn't he, being the man he is? Healthy, handsome, strong, smart, witty Jayce could have anyone he desires. Which, in Viktor's personal experience, begs the question: why bother with Viktor?
He sighs and weighs his options; he could sit and wait until the match is over to apologize, but that would mean he'd lose his advanced calculus class —he's not a big fan of it, but he'd rather take every available class; after all, he knows knowledge is his best weapon— or he could go back inside, wait for the professor to arrive, take his class and wait for Jayce on their shared dorm, if Jayce ever comes back for something that isn't taking his belongings and changing dorms.
Viktor doesn't remember the last time he acted on such a reckless whim, if ever, but he chooses the first option and sits on the frontmost part of the grandstands, in the first available and isolated seat he can find. He props his cane —along with his carton sweetmilk— on the seat next to his, places his book on his lap and bites into his cookie, hoping the 80-minute match passes rather quickly.
Forty minutes into the game, Jayce finds him amongst the crowd and runs to him during their designated half-time break, and Viktor is so engrossed on his book he nearly jumps out of his skin as he hears rather than sees the bang Jayce's body makes when he collides with the grandstand's guardrail, propping himself up and crossing his arms over the guardrail.
"What are you doing here?" Jayce asks, and Viktor has to translate as he speaks around his mouth guard.
Viktor's heart can't catch a break as he looks at the tight jersey and body armor Jayce has to wear to enter the field; he swallows and says, "I want to talk with you. Nice jersey." He adds the last two words after noticing the backside and part of the left side of said jersey are torn open in their entirety.
"Is that why you came? To insult me further?"
"I never meant to insult you, Jayce. Much less hurt you. That's precisely what I want to talk to you about."
Jayce narrows his eyes and Viktor hears the coach barking out instructions about a distracted captain, tactics and second half.
"Duty calls for you, Captain." Viktor mutters, staring at Jayce's dirt-and-mud-smeared face, at his sweaty forearms, at the body armor discernable from underneath his torn jersey.
"Will you stay the rest of the match?"
"I will if that's what it takes for you to hear me out."
Jayce huffs as he jumps down from the guardrail and joins his team, and Viktor feels his heart on his throat even after he disappears completely in the changing room's direction. At least Jayce looked less angry and willing to listen to him after the match.
Viktor finds he can no longer concentrate on his book, the letters swimming in and out of his vision, and realizes he's probably distracted at how Jayce searches the grandstands to meet his eyes every time he scores; or maybe Viktor is distracted by the fact that he finds himself wanting to find his eyes every time. He's about to drink his carton sweetmilk when he realizes the second half is over. He doesn't understand much about rugby, but he thinks he can understand the dejected look on Jayce's face when he trudges to find him on the grandstands, or the way he pulls his scrum cap off of his head after propping his arms on the guardrail.
"Bad match?"
"More like bad season," Jayce huffs, talking around his mouth guard once again, and wipes the sweat off his forehead before looking at the other side of the grandstands; Viktor finds himself losing the battle against his curiosity and finds Mel calling Jayce over with a graceful flick of her wrist. Jayce doesn't even look in Viktor's way when he says, "See you back at the dorms?"
Viktor sighs, taking his book, his cane and the carton sweetmilk before standing. "I have class."
That makes Jayce look back at him, a baffled expression on his face. "You don't, we share similar schedules."
"I missed advanced calculus for this," He mutters, tucking the book under his arm and starting to walk away. Still bewildered, Jayce follows him from underneath. "I'm hoping to make up for lost time. Hopefully the Professor won't mind an extra student in his class. Also, I wouldn't like to keep you any longer; looks like Miss Medarda is looking for you."
"Viktor, wait," Jayce calls after him; when he gets no reply, he takes a few steps back to the rush forward, gaining momentum and successfully jumping the guardrail; his coach calls after him, but Jayce pays no mind as he catches up with Viktor. "Why are you acting like this? You were the one who suggested talking about... what happened."
"For someone allegedly interested in me, you sure move on fast." He mumbles, begrudgingly, and looks to where Mel was siting. She seems to be gone now.
"Mel? She's my best friend, and she's got a—"
The coach gives a final warning to Jayce before disappearing in the crowd of players; Jayce looks at Viktor, and then grunts to jump back down to the field. Viktor huffs and continues to make his way to the Academy's halls, hoping to find Heimerdinger and explain the reason behind his absence.
Viktor is called to the Dean of the Academy's office as soon as he walks inside the main building, and he sighs as he makes his way over. He doesn't understand what he was thinking, skipping a class to watch a rugby match in hopes of talking to Jayce. What's more, skipping his own guardian's class, hoping the yordle who raised him wouldn't notice? Wouldn't acknowledge his absence? Wouldn’t punish him?
He takes a deep a breath and knocks once, twice, on the imposing and unnecessarily big wooden doors. The response is immediate, and he cannot delay the inevitable any further, so he pushes the imposing doors open and walks inside. He places the book he was holding on a table nearby, looking down at his feet as he walks to the desk his guardian is currently sitting behind of.
"Viktor," Heimerdinger greets, and Viktor sags as he makes it to the comfortable chair and sits down. He finally raises his eyes to meet his guardian's, and finds the yordle raising a single eyebrow. Despite his back support, he finds it difficult to sight up straight, yet he does when he realizes what the eyebrow gesture really means. "I must be honest with you, my boy. I'm quite disappointed you skipped a class, and also quite irritated it was my class you skipped. Surely there is a reason behind all of this... recklessness and rebellious behavior? You have never conducted yourself to be so careless, especially when it comes to your studies. The reason must be of great importance to not only fail yourself, but your father as well."
"Failed myself?" Viktor rasps, quietly, frowning at the mention of the word fail.
The rest of the lecture, although not any less insulting, he thinks he can deal with; after all, everything is true. But fail? Fail himself, how? And fail Heimerdinger? How is that related to skipping a single class in his entire academic life? Is Heimerdinger so easily disappointed, that easily hurt? Above else, was it true? Had he failed himself in favor of having a conversation with Jayce he didn't even have the opportunity to have?
"Yes, my boy. This cannot go on, and I must know the reason why this happened to abolish it," Heimerdinger continues, and Viktor feels a headache coming. "We must get rid of any distractions, and you must focus entirely on your studies. I was actually going to talk with you about something this afternoon, but I'm not sure I can until we end this rebellious behavior."
Viktor's frown only grows, and he finds himself asking, "What is it? Am I in any more trouble?"
"Oh, not at all, my boy. I meant to give you the Assistant to the Dean of the Academy's position. You seemed to be ready, a challenge for your brilliant mind; keeping up with your studies and simultaneously, working beside me to make of this Academy the best to existence in Piltover," His guardian stops, sagging in his seat, and Viktor feels his stomach drop; having to work as the assistant of the Dean? While studying? How would that even be posible? He'd have to drop several of his classes in order to come close to what his new position might demand of him. And, not to mention, he'll have to walk twice as much on a daily basis; his leg might not be able to keep up with him, and that will only add to Heimerdinger's current disappointment. "But given the circumstances, it seems my goal shall be... delayed."
"Perhaps it isn't a good idea..." He trails off, and sees the hurt in his guardian's eyes. He rushes to add, "To have such an important position while studying, Father. Think of it this way: I might have to drop several classes just to meet the requirements for that position, and, consequently, I won't be able to focus solely on my studies like you want me to."
Heimerdinger thinks for a moment, and nods. "That's entirely true. Perhaps I'll have to wait until you graduate to give you the job."
Is that all he wants Viktor to become? An assistant? Is that why he asks so much of him?
"Yes, that would be best." He ends up saying, so as to not drown in his own thoughts.
Heimerdinger stares at him for a long time before sighing and saying, "I might've gone overboard with my words, Viktor. I apologize. I never meant to hurt you. You've never acted this way, and as such, I was —and still am— immensely worried. Why did you skip class?"
"That—" Viktor racks his brain for an excuse, anything that sounds less pathetic than I've been in love with your Academy's Golden Boy for so long that when he confessed —at least, I think he did—, I panicked and asked him if it was a joke. Then I had to find him on the rugby field, and I waited until the match was over in hopes to apologize but turns out Jayce already has his eyes set on someone else and I ended up making a fool of myself with him, with you and with myself, if that's even posible. He settles with, "I wanted to be present on the rugby match. Cheer for our team and expand my little-to-nonexistent knowledge in our Academy's sport teams."
Heimerdinger looks surprised for a moment, then schools his face into a calm expression. "You skipped class because you wanted to watch a rugby match? Do you really expect me to believe such nonsense, child?” And the frown is back on his furry face. Viktor allows himself to sag in his seat. “I watched you grow; you never showed any interest in physical activities, not even when I suggested parasports as an extracurricular activity. Since when do you lie to your father? The truth, Viktor."
Viktor huffs. "I... had a little argument with my classmate and roommate, Jayce."
"Jayce Talis?"
"The one and only."
Heimerdinger raises an eyebrow, prompting him to continue. Viktor sags even more, and ignores the pang of pain that comes as a result from his spine.
"It started in the cafeteria. I may have... hurt his feelings, and he left for the rugby match not long after. I followed him and realized I had two options: make the walk back inside, humiliating and excruciatingly long as it was, and join your class or stay, watch the match and hopefully catch Jayce at the end of it. I sort of... lost track of time, and we talked for a little while in the half-time break; he asked me to stay for the rest of the match."
His guardian hums, seemingly knowing where this was going. "And you did."
"Of course," Viktor answers, a bit too fast, and hurries to add, "He said he'd hear me out if I did. But then, when the match ended, he left with someone else, and I was forced to leave on my own. I had planned to talk to him while we walked towards our shared dorm, but it seems he already had other plans with someone else."
"And that's bothering you."
"Deeply," He whispers. "But I suppose it doesn't matter, now. I will take full responsibility for my actions. It won't happen again."
Heimerdinger hums, appreciative of his honesty, and jumps down his chair to walk up to where Viktor is. He pats his calf affectionately once, twice, before he sighs. "It cannot happen again, my boy. You had me worried. I do hope, however, that you and Jayce sort out your argument; that way, you can finally return to—"
"Focusing solely on my studies," Viktor finishes for him, and Heimerdinger looks so proud Viktor forces himself to resist the urge to look away. "We will, hopefully."
"We must recover lost time, so I expect you to meet me at my office in a few hours."
"Are you busy at the moment?" Viktor asks, looking out the window behind Heimerdinger's chair. "I would like to start recovering lost time now, if posible."
"Oh, of course! I thought you'd like to have a chat with Jayce first, but who am I to deny my son's eagerness when it comes to knowledge?" Heimerdinger chuckles and walks towards the exit. "I'll have someone bring your notebook and book, my boy. Worry not about trivial matters."
Viktor sighs and nods, smiling at his guardian; only after Heimerdinger is out of the office does he dare to drop his smile, resting his forehead on his cane as his mind wanders, unpleasantly, to a few hours prior, when Mel and Jayce were talking so closely to each other he considered it too intimate for a friendship. But who is he to judge their friendship, when he has no point of comparison? He’s never really had a friend, the only person ever-present in his life being his guardian.
Viktor has never been more eager to study advanced calculus, if ever; maybe all he needs is a few hours with derivatives and trig functions. At least, the derivatives and trig functions would never leave him for someone else.
Viktor closes the door to his dorm with a little more force than necessary, resting his back on it for a moment before walking towards his bed. He expects to find it empty, but he startles when he finds Jayce, asleep, on it. And he feels even more startled when he finds Mel sitting on Jayce's bed, looking at him with a well-practiced smile.
He thinks he understands how Jayce moved on so quickly; she might just be beauty’s and grace’s embodiment.
"Hello," She says, and even the way she speaks emanates elegance. "I apologize for the intrusion, but he asked me to deliver this message lest he had somewhere else to go. He just wanted to tell you he never meant to leave like that, and that he's sorry. It appears he was more tired than he originally contemplated, though, and fell asleep while waiting for you," She chuckles and stands, wiping imaginary wrinkles off her beautiful dress before looking up at him. "I'm afraid I must take my leave now; Elora is waiting for me."
"Elora?" Viktor asks, and Mel turns, just as she is about to open the dorm’s door, to smile at him.
"Yes, Elora. My lover."
Viktor holds his breath as she leaves and finds himself unable to breathe a good few seconds after she's gone. He stands in the middle of their shared room until his leg complains, and takes a seat on Jayce's unmade bed, sighing as the soft mattress relieves a little of his days' worth of pain. Jayce grunts from his bed, and Viktor shushes him back to sleep; he doesn't think he's ready to have the conversation yet. He figures he should use this time to do his homework, and he moves to his desk and pulls out a few of his notebooks from his messenger bag to start.
An hour or so later, Jayce stirs awake, slowly, groggily, and Viktor's heart seizes at the sight; he might as well suffer from falling in love and an unknown acute heart disease simultaneously.
"Vik?"
"Did I wake you?" He asks, turning his desk lamp off momentarily; he also closes the notebook he was currently working on to give Jayce his full attention. "I'm sorry."
"I was already awake," Jayce attempts to lie, and rubs his eyes as he sits up. "Where have you been?"
"I told you I needed to make up for lost time," He whispers, staring at Jayce's silhouette as his eyes adjust to the lack of light. "Where have you been?"
"Here. I was waiting for you," Jayce admits, and yawns. "Did he ground you?”
Viktor huffs out what he supposes is a laugh; it bubbles from deep within his chest and falls out of his lips before he can stop it. Jayce looks amused by the sound. “I suppose he did.”
“I should tell him you missed class because of me,” Jayce says as he stands, his back popping as he stretches his arms towards the ceiling; Viktor swallows and looks away as he catches a glimpse of skin when his shirt lifts. “Is he still in his office?” Then, his eyes fall on Viktor’s desk, where he placed one of his many clocks. 8:10 pm, it reads.
Viktor fumbles in the dark for his cane. “That won’t be necessary.”
“Why not? It was my fault.”
He finally grasps his cane and stands, his thigh hitting the underside of the desk in his hurry, “It’s fine, really,” He mutters, making his way over to Jayce to stop him from walking away. “I’ve already—”
“Are you alright?” Jayce cuts him off, meeting him halfway; now that he’s much closer, Viktor can make out his worried expression in the barely lit room. “Why’re you in a hurry? Are you leaving again?”
“I’m— I’m okay. But no, no,” He says, his free hand coming up to rest on Jayce’s forearm. Jayce, in turn, holds out his arms, palms up, and his hands end up by Viktor’s elbows, consequently bringing them closer. Viktor takes a deep breath and tightens the grip he has on the handle of his cane; his legs feel like they want to give out from underneath him to see if Jayce would catch him. “I’m not…” Looking up, now, he thinks he might want to test it out, despite his better judgement; his hypothesis being Jayce wrapping his arms around his middle, and then lowering him to the bed in favor of asking what’s wrong. “Going anywhere.” He whispers, and only then realizes the true extent of their height difference; he never really put much thought into it, but now, having Jayce’s nose about to touch his own, he comes to the conclusion that Jayce always leans down to look him in the eye, to talk to him, or for no reason other than to share a smile.
Viktor’s heart does somersaults in his chest before settling on a rather quick rhythm.
“Then?” Jayce asks, and Viktor finds he doesn’t even remember what they were talking about. “Do you want to talk?”
“Eh, want as in want, perhaps not.”
“Viktor.”
Viktor sighs. “Alright, alright,” He mutters and tries to walk towards Jayce's bed, but finds Jayce tightens his hold. “It’s alright, come with me,” And he guides Jayce to his own bed, instead, sitting down and prompting him to do the same. Viktor takes a deep breath and realizes he’s still holding Jayce’s hand from when he guided him to sit on the bed, but finds he doesn’t want to let go; he props his cane beside the bed with his free hand, and says, “I just want to know: why?”
Jayce’s intake of breath sounds loud in the quiet dorm, and he pulls his hands back into his own lap; Viktor’s hands never felt colder.
“I told you, I like you and I thought—”
“Why ask in front of everybody?” Viktor tries again, and Jayce sags. “You know I hate it when people look my way, and having you merely standing next to my table made people look. And then you—”
“Okay, okay, I get it. I should’ve asked when we were alone,” Jayce pauses and looks down at his hands. “You make it sound like me being close to you is a bad thing.”
Viktor looks at Jayce’s fiddly hands and suddenly feels the urge to hold one, “That’s not—” He clears his throat. “Allow me to elaborate on that. You’re Jayce Talis, the Academy’s Golden Boy, so wherever you go, people follow. And people look at you when you enter a room. Now imagine everyone’s surprise when you walk over to the cripple-nerd’s table and say, I’m asking you out. I was surprised myself; everyone in our class, including me, thought you and Mel were dating or had something akin going on, and turns out Mel and Elora are dating and you—” He looks up at Jayce, and his breath catches his in his throat. Jayce is looking at him now and leaning in on his personal space; Viktor leans away in favor of finishing his sentence as he sees Jayce closing his eyes. “You— you are, you are, um.” He stutters and sighs when Jayce’s lips finally meet his own, and he does his best to reciprocate the clumsy kiss.
“I’m what?” Jayce says as he pulls back with a charming grin. Viktor can only be grateful they weren’t standing; he’s positive he would’ve gotten to try his hypothesis as his legs would’ve definitely given out from underneath him. "I'm sorry, you were stuttering so much I couldn't quite catch that—"
Viktor huffs and pushes Jayce out of his personal space, sitting up straight and clearing his throat once again. "As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, you are..." He finds he cannot bring himself to say what he wants to say, and Jayce catches up on it quite quickly.
"Interested in you?"
"Yes, that. It's, um, quite flattering, really," He says, and thinks Jayce already knows what's coming. "But I'm afraid I can't... give you what you want."
"Is it because I'm from the Undercity?"
Viktor widens his eyes, "What? No, no, Jayce. Of course it's not that."
"Is it because I'm a man, then?"
"No, Jayce. It's not that, either. In fact, I like men," Viktor says and gasps as he realizes what he just said. Jayce widens his eyes at the admission, but soon looks hopeful once again. "I-It's because I have to... focus solely on my studies. I can't— I don't have the time to date."
"Focus solely on your studies? That sounds rehearsed," Jayce replies, smiling and looking down at his feet. Viktor sags. "Like something Heimerdinger would say; is that what he tells you?"
"Um, well—"
Jayce sighs, "We can study together, I'll be on time to each and every one of his classes, I'll even sign up for more classes if that's what he asks of me," He says, leaning a bit too close, and Viktor's heart skips a beat; Jayce's eyes travel to his lips. "Please? I'll talk to him, I'm sure he'll understand he can't forbid you from... dating me? You're almost 21, right?"
"I don't think his worry has to do with age," Viktor responds, leaning in, his eyes focused on Jayce's lips; oh, how treacherous his body to act on its own. "It has to do with distractions. He doesn't want me to slack off on my studies."
Jayce leans back and barks out a laugh. "You? Slacking off? Maybe it's just paranoia, Vik," As he says this, he resumes his position, if only a tad closer to Viktor's face. "You're not the kind of guy to slack off. Much less academically. You ask so much of yourself, it's impressive yet not surprising how far you've come."
Viktor lets out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and finally closes the distance between their lips, this time resolutely; Jayce returns his eagerness and makes a sound at the back of his throat, one that Viktor will treasure forever. One calloused and warm hand comes to rest at Viktor's nape, and he shudders; Jayce's other hand comes to rest on his chest and slowly but surely encourages him to lie down on the bed. Viktor does, and Jayce's lips chase his own as he does; he finds it hard to breathe, and he thinks it's related to the way Jayce is mindful of his leg, or the way Jayce tries to pour down the way he feels about Viktor in every kiss.
He becomes aware of his inexperience as Jayce's hands seem to know exactly what to do, where to caress, where to roam without it being urging or pushy. Viktor brings one of his hands to Jayce's hair, one that caresses the undercut there and receives an encouraging moan in response; the other, however, he doesn't know what to do with it. Jayce notices his hesitation and brings one of his hands to guide Viktor's towards his shoulders.
Viktor's heart might just give out with the number of somersaults it has done today.
His hand takes the liberty to roam around the expanse of Jayce's nape, shoulders and upper back, and Jayce swallows the sigh he lets out.
When the lack of oxygen becomes too much to bear, he finally pulls back and swallows after looking up to Jayce through his eyelashes; Jayce's eyes are glazed over and slightly unfocused. Viktor thinks the look suits him.
"Is this your answer?" Jayce asks, breathless, and Viktor finds his throat suddenly dry.
"My answer? To what?"
Jayce looks to the side and stands from where he was practically lying on top of Viktor; Viktor sits up so suddenly the room spins. "My... proposal."
Viktor sighs. "Jayce, there's nothing I want more. I've been... interested in you ever since you became my roommate, three years ago," He pauses and smiles when Jayce turns to look at him. "You're smart, strong, tall, and so effortlessly charming I shouldn't even be considering rejecting your proposal."
"But?"
"But this is out of my hands. Heimerdinger would kill me; the only relationship he had, he called it a mere distraction," He says, and Jayce grimaces at the thought of the yordle being romantically involved with someone. Viktor can't blame him; he grimaced, too, when his guardian first told him. "He is so against relationships I'm starting to think he doesn't want me to date anyone, ever, and that it has nothing to do with me getting distracted from my academic life."
"What if we hide it? Our relationship?"
"Would you be willing to?" Viktor asks instead, and Jayce frowns. "You know, avoid PDA and deny our romantic involvement if asked."
"Maybe. I'll put up with it, if that's what it takes for you to be with me," Jayce says, still hopeful, and Viktor sighs. "What's PDA?"
"Public displays of affection; kisses, hugs, holding hands, that kind of thing. We cannot—"
"But—"
Viktor huffs. "We must not be seen doing that sort of thing. Think of it this way; we've never really interacted —publicly or otherwise—, and us suddenly becoming close will catch your fans' unwanted attention. What if one of said fans knows I'm the Dean's son? What if they tell Heimerdinger about us? It'll be game over for the both of us."
"No hugs, kisses or holding hands; roger that. I'm pretty sure I can deal with it, I'm a strong man, after all," Jayce winks at him, crossing his arms over his chest; Viktor resists the urge to roll his eyes. "And I don't have fans."
"You do. And a touch to the shoulder and whispering to one another can also be considered PDA."
Viktor is sure Jayce tries to conceal the way he bristles at the mention of shoulder touches.
"Fine, fine. How about this, then: we, um, become friends publicly, and then bam! After a few days of outstanding performance, we kiss."
If Viktor hadn't laughed before, he surely does now; he covers his mouth with his hands, yet his shoulders shake with the bubbly feeling from before. Jayce looks at him in what Viktor can only call awe, and sighs.
"Even the way you laugh is attractive."
Viktor feels his face heating up, so he looks away from Jayce and takes a deep breath so as to settle down from his laughing fit. He remains silent for a while, and then he mutters, "We can try to publicly become close, not friends, and then by the time people notice, we'll be dating, and no one will mind us. Right?"
"Yes," Jayce replies immediately, and Viktor smiles softly when he comes to sit down on the bed once again. "Yes. Please. I'd like that."
"Alright. We can give it a try."
A slightly awkward silence takes over, and Viktor tries to think of a way to melt the awkwardness away, but being the socially awkward man he is, he can't think of one; then, Jayce asks, presumably speaking his mind, "Would you like to cuddle?"
"Jayce—"
"Too much?" He asks, like Viktor imagines a kicked puppy would.
He sighs and says, "No. I think cuddling is alright. I just... never done that before."
Jayce lies down and leaves his arm extended; for him to rest his head on, Viktor supposes, and he lies down beside Jayce, if only a tad hesitantly, making sure he's lying on his left side so as to not hurt his bad leg any further. Viktor tentatively lies his head on Jayce's bicep, and although it is somewhat comfortable, he ends up resting his head on Jayce's shoulder; Jayce's tenses up, presumably not expecting Viktor to do that, but soon after relaxes.
"How's your leg?" Jayce whispers, his nose coming to rest on Viktor's hair. "Does it hurt?"
"It's fine," He replies quietly, and experimentally lies his right leg over Jayce's thighs. "Better, now."
Jayce chuckles and curls his arm over Viktor's back, embracing him, and although Viktor had never experienced this kind of intimacy with anyone, it feels right. Like he belongs here, in Jayce's safe, warm embrace.
Their plan of avoiding public displays of affection and denying their romantic involvement gets thrown out of the window in the same week they planned it, when Viktor clears his schedule to be able to watch another one of Jayce's practice matches.
Viktor arrives early, tries to will his anxiety to disappear as he looks for a relatively isolated seat in the frontmost part of the grandstands; he finds Mel had been saving him a seat, and he quietly appreciates it. He's still embarrassed about his misunderstanding regarding Mel, so he cuts their conversation short and waves her goodbye when she says she was only saving the best seat for the Star Player's boyfriend.
He didn't deny it, so he's certainly fucked up their plan; hopefully, Mel won't tell anyone. She doesn't strike him as someone to betray him like that, given that her relationship with Elora is also a secret, but one can never be too careful. He'll deny it next time he sees her. Hopefully.
As he sits down, he props his cane on the seat beside him and pulls out his notebooks; of course, he'd let Heimerdinger know, beforehand, that he'd cleared his schedule now that him and Jayce were on good terms again, so that he could enjoy some time with his new friend. Heimerdinger had been bristling, but had ended their conversation with, perhaps interpersonal relationships will improve your mood and your social skills. He supposes his guardian is right.
Just as he is about to open the first notebook, he hears a loud clash of flesh and metal, and he looks up to find Jayce propped on the guardrail, just like the first time he was here; he can't help the relieved sigh that escapes his lips at the mere sight of Jayce.
"Did I scare you?"
"Not at all," Viktor replies, and catches himself before he starts leaning in on Jayce's personal space. An emotion akin to hurt flashes Jayce's golden eyes, and Viktor wants nothing more than take those sun-kissed cheeks and join their lips. As inviting as that particular thought is, he shoves it away in favor of whispering, stupidly contradictory, "I want to kiss you."
Jayce beams at that, outshining the sun itself, and whispers back, "You said no whispering. And no kissing, too."
"In public."
"We're in public."
Viktor wants to smack himself. "Right."
"Why did you bring notebooks? You're supposed to be paying attention to your boyf— best friend's performance in the field during the match."
"I know, but I cleared my schedule and this," He points at the multiple notebooks on his lap. "Was my punishment."
"Perks of being the Dean's son, I guess," Jayce says and shrugs. "Have fun with those. But you better be cheering me on, or I'll kick you out of the grandstands myself."
With that, Jayce puts on his mouth guard and scrum cap on, to then jump down to the field. Viktor sighs as he watches him jog towards his designated position.
Half an hour later, he thinks organic chemistry can get it, and closes his notebook in favor of finally paying attention to the match; he thinks the match is going just as their coach and his team planned, if Jayce's big, toothy, heartwarming smile is any indicator. Thinking back at how he used to suppress such thoughts makes his chest feel heavy; why deny himself of this? Openly admitting to himself, in the confines of his own mind, that Jayce might just be what he needs right now; companiable, charming, witty Jayce.
He's pulled out of his stupor by the ball itself, that lands rather closely to the grandstands, and he makes eye-contact with the player who ran for it; the player winks at Viktor, and he doesn't know what to do, so he blinks multiple times and smiles kindly at them. Jayce comes from behind the player and huffs, taking the ball from the player that winked at Viktor and handing it to the already approaching referee.
Viktor tries to talk to Jayce, but he's called by his coach just as he is about to; Jayce frowns at him for a moment, and then jogs towards his coach to listen to what he has to say. Viktor sags in his seat and avoids the player's eyes; he supposes such display might be enough for them to understand Viktor is taken, and simply not interested. The worst part of it, Viktor thinks, is that he realizes the player was from the opposite team.
At the designated half-time break, Jayce looks his way but doesn't really approach him, so Viktor shrugs and pulls out a different notebook from his messenger bag; anything but organic chemistry might suffice. Thermodynamics, quantum physics, advanced biochemistry or molecular biology; he sighs as he looks at his options and thinks that maybe not anything but organic chemistry might suffice. He takes his quantum physics notebook, opens the extra exercises page, and takes his pencil; right when he's about to write the date on the uppermost corner of the page, he sees how Jayce is jogging his way from the corner of his eyes. He pretends he doesn't see him coming when Jayce props himself on the handrail.
Jayce glares at his skull for a few quiet moments before sighing and nudging Viktor's leg with the knuckles of his hand; Viktor looks up at him with a raised eyebrow.
"Can I help you, Golden Boy?"
"Really, Vik? This is ridiculous."
"You're the one who's being ridiculous," Viktor answers too fast, closing his notebook momentarily. "Getting mad over someone winking at me? I was as taken aback as you were; that hadn’t happened before."
"I'm not mad."
Viktor looks down at Jayce's clenched fists and sighs. "I... want you, I don't even know who they are." He mutters, avoiding Jayce's eyes.
"I know."
"Then why does it bother you?"
"Because you smiled at them."
"I thought I was being polite."
They have a brief glaring competition before a teammate calls Jayce over; Viktor thinks about not saying anything else until they can talk it out in the safety of their dorm, but ends up saying, "You scored 6 times today, and it's only half time."
Jayce, despite himself, beams at him. "You noticed."
"Of course I did, and I am cheering on for you, internally."
Jayce huffs out a laugh and smiles briefly at him before saying, "Kiss for good luck?"
"Very funny."
He then jumps down and joins his team. If Viktor recalls correctly, the most their half-time break lasts is fifteen minutes, so he hurries to start his quantum physics exercises, hoping he'll finish them by then.
Not even ten minutes pass when he hears the telltale sign of Jayce propping himself on the guardrail, and he smiles when he meets Jayce's golden eyes. "Missed me that much?"
"Perhaps," Jayce replies, nonchalantly. "Maybe we can try the kiss for good luck now?"
"We're in public," Viktor mutters. "We can't—"
"We're basically alone at the moment," Jayce whispers, making a show of looking in every direction before his eyes land in Viktor's lips. "Please? I've been distracted. I can't get you out of my head."
Viktor swallows as all he hears is his loud heartbeat, and his eyes fall to Jayce's lips, too. "You're insufferable. You can't go around saying things like that."
"I think you like it when I do."
Viktor would be lying if he said he didn't. Then, "I can't reach you. Not like this."
Jayce jumps down in favor of gaining momentum and, not long after, hops over the guardrail; Viktor suddenly feels nervous and looks down at his own lap, where his notebook lies.
"There. Now? Please?"
"What if someone sees? And what about your mouth guard? Am I supposed to kiss you with it on?"
Jayce huffs, now exasperated, as he pulls his mouth guard out with a little more force than necessary and leans down to crowd Viktor's personal space. Viktor tries to look around one last time before he pecks Jayce' lips once, twice, and sags back into his chair.
"Pecks don't count." Jayce pouts and doesn't lean back; in fact, his arms encage Viktor into his seat.
Viktor brings a hand to cup Jayce's cheek and mutters, "I'll make it up afterwards, yes?"
Jayce puts on his mouth guard in the same manner he took it off, abruptly and irritated, and sighs. "You better. This is not enough." He jumps down onto the field and joins his teammates once more, as if nothing happened; Viktor takes his sweet time calming down his wildly beating heart.
He doesn't realize when or how, but twenty minutes go by without much hassle; he thinks his understanding of the game is getting better, and it is now easy to follow Jayce with his eyes.
Jayce is just about to score a try when a player of the opposite team tackles him, while another takes the ball from his grasp and makes a run for it.
Viktor feels his heart stop when Jayce doesn't stand immediately after being tackled, as he usually does. The coach calls for the referee, the referee pauses the game momentarily and Viktor's heart drops to his stomach when Jayce turns in his general direction; he can't really discern what's happened, but what he can discern is the telltale red of a bleeding wound, and it's Jayce’s right cheek that's bleeding.
He immediately stands from his seat, shoves his notebooks inside his messenger bag and walks as fast as he can towards the changing rooms; he knows the coach won't take his Star Player to the infirmary, because that would mean taking him out of the match, so his only option is the changing rooms. He gets there in record time, and is relieved to see Jayce is already there, in front of a mirror, holding a napkin to his bleeding cheek to try and stop the bleeding.
"Jayce," He calls as he enters, pushing the door open and throwing his bag to the floor in favor of reaching Jayce. "What happened? Are you alright? Does it hurt a lot? Is there anything I can do?"
Jayce chuckles and meets him halfway, muttering, "It's okay. It's just a stud to the face, it happens. Can you kiss it better, though?"
Viktor frowns as he carefully takes Jayce's face between his hands, assessing the damage himself, his cane falling to the floor; the swelling is very bad, and it won't stop bleeding, but other than that he thinks everything is fine. His eyes meet Jayce's, glazed over due to the pain and the blow he took, and sighs, "This is serious, Jayce. Your beautiful face is ruined."
Jayce's hands steady him as he realizes he dropped his cane. "You think my face is beautiful?"
Viktor huffs as he lets go of Jayce's face. "Take your mouth guard off, it might help with the swelling. Let me find a first aid kit."
Once Jayce hands him his cane and he does find a kit, he sits beside Jayce on a bench and carefully removes the napkin the coach oh so kindly lent him to stop the bleeding; he places his cane over his lap this time. He takes a gauze and applies pressure until he finds the wound is no longer bleeding, then takes cotton ball, soaks it with isopropyl alcohol and takes a deep breath. "This might hurt."
"I know, I'll be alright."
Viktor steels his nerves and swabs the soaked cotton ball, as gently as he can muster, over the bruise; Jayce maintains the eye contact, as if he doesn't feel any of the pain. Viktor then takes a clean gauze and tapes it over, and Jayce is on his feet so fast Viktor takes a while to understand why. He takes his cane to stand in front of Jayce and places his free hand over Jayce's frantic heartbeat.
"Where to?"
"The field, of course," Jayce says around the mouth guard he struggles to put on; when he successfully puts it in place, he says, "The coach will murder me himself if I take longer than ten minutes."
"Stud incidents aren't just a superficial wound," He hurriedly says and pushes Jayce to sit back down on the bench they were in. "What if they accidentally caused you a concussion?" He props his cane beside Jayce, on the bench, before he takes Jayce's head with both hands. He tries to search for head injuries, but he gets easily distracted by the way Jayce looks at him, so he decides to ask for symptoms instead. "Do you have a headache? Are you nauseous? Are you dizzy? Do you feel fatigued? Blurred vision? Ringing in your ears? Do you see stars? Your eyes seem glazed over and unfocused, perhaps you do have a—”
Jayce takes his wrists and gently moves Viktor's hands away from his head. "I'm fine, Vik."
Viktor checks Jayce's pupils, just in case, before sagging forwards, if only a little. "Okay," He mutters, and rests his forehead on Jayce's, placing his trembling hands over Jayce's cheeks to ground himself. "Okay. I just— don't ever stay still after being tackled. I nearly had a heart attack."
"I'm sorry," Jayce says, still holding Viktor's wrists. "It startled me, that's all. I'm fine."
Viktor then realizes their proximity, his nose bumping Jayce's, and swallows. “I might be able to… kiss it better now that I know you’re alright.”
“Yeah?” Jayce mutters, his breath fanning Viktor’s lips.
“Yeah,” And he purposefully grazes his lips against Jayce's, once, before pulling away. "After you go to the infirmary."
"What?"
"I'm not letting you go back to the field like this," He lets go of Jayce entirely to take his cane and walk back to the exit of the changing rooms. He huffs when he looks back at Jayce and he hasn't moved an inch. "Come on. I'm taking you there; I suspect you do have a concussion, and it is advised I monitor the next 24 hours lest your symptoms get worse."
"Vik," Jayce whines and stands so quickly he ends up flipping the bench over; Viktor raises a single eyebrow, then bends over to take his bag from where he discarded it on the floor in his initial hurry. "Please. You don't understand. The coach will kick me out of the team if I leave now."
Viktor frowns and feels his chest getting warmer, but not in a pleasant way; it feels more to what he suspects is the feeling of his own blood boiling. The grip he has on his cane tightens, and Jayce seems to notice, as he walks towards Viktor as one would when placating a scared or dangerous animal.
"Ridiculous. You cannot be considering going back to the field like this," Viktor turns his back on Jayce and starts exiting the building. He knows Jayce is trailing after him, so he adds, "My voice might not have a lot of weight or hold importance, but I bet Heimerdinger's does. I'll talk to him regarding your coach's ineptitude; and I swear if he lays a single finger on you, I'll use my cane to give him a concussion, see how he likes it."
Jayce hurries to put on his scrum cap and asks, "Where are you going?"
"Are you even listening?" Viktor asks, a bit more aggressive than he intended to, and looks over his shoulder to find Jayce by the doors to the changing rooms. "I'm talking to Heimerdinger about this."
Jayce sighs and runs a hand down his face, wincing when his fingers catch on the gauze Viktor had just taped into his wound. "Well... I'll see you later?"
Viktor huffs. "Perhaps. I might have to... stand up for you if this matter actually gets the attention it needs."
With that, he leaves in favor of entering the main building and hopefully finding Heimerdinger in his office.
Heimerdinger wanted his insight and help to make this Academy a better place, right? The best Academy in Piltover. He thinks re-evaluating the personnel might be the first step to it, so he brings it up to the conversation he has with his guardian, and although surprised, Heimerdinger thinks Viktor has a point.
He did end up, however, having to stand up for the students that were affected by their coach's negligence, and he became one of the Heads of the Student Council thanks to Heimerdinger and a few other Professors present in said meeting. While the last thing he wanted was more responsibilities, if he wanted to make changes, he wouldn't wait for someone else to do them, so he gladly took the position and sighed as soon as he was in the safety of his' and Jayce's dorm.
He supposes the news aren't as enticing as they should be; more responsibilities mean less time to spend with Jayce, and he can only imagine the impact it will have on the two of them. Their relationship's novelty hasn't worn off, having started dating a few days ago, and they had gotten used to spending any free time available together. Now, said time, Viktor will have to direct into upgrading their academic life and playing as someone relatively important; he's not precisely surprised by the outcome of the meeting, since he's one of the few students that actually brought up the negligence of the sports coach and a few other professors, but it certainly wasn't what he'd expected.
Taking a seat on his bed, Viktor sags forward and grunts as his leg sends a pang of pain, as if complaining about today's treatment; standing for hours on end during the meeting, having to do several errands in order to officially take up on the Head of the Student Council position, having to collect multiple testimonies to file a formal complaint to get the coach fired and replaced...
He might've overdone it.
He lies down to finally give his leg some resemblance of relief, when the door to the dorm slams open; he sighs. He supposes he's not the only one who had a rather tiring and long day.
"Viktor? Are you awake?" Jayce calls, and he sounds angry at him. Viktor swallows after he mutters a quiet yeah. "You— Just what did you do? You got me kicked out of the rugby team."
Viktor sighs again. "You're not getting kicked out of the team, Jayce. No one is, in fact. If you had read the entire announcement, you would've realized that rugby matches are suspended until further notice due to the lack of a coach. Unsupervised matches are, however, allowed but under the students' risk. And you are only allowed to do Rugby Sevens if you do end up running an unsupervised match."
Jayce groans and only then does Viktor look up to him. "Why Sevens?"
"To minimize the risk of the players getting injured while unsupervised, of course."
"We wouldn't be entirely unsupervised. We have several referees." Jayce points out and Viktor shakes his head.
"I tried convincing Heimerdinger by saying you have three referees, but he didn't seem keen on the idea. He said you and your team needed to be supervised by referees and coaches simultaneously," Viktor feels his heart speeding up when Jayce looks down at him with a grin. "Do you have an anecdote you'd like to share, Captain?"
"Well," Jayce huffs and sits at the edge of Viktor's bed; Viktor moves to make room, wincing when he tries to move his right leg. Jayce frowns, worried, and says, "Is there anything I can do? For your leg?"
"I'm—" Viktor says and gets cut off by yet another wave of pain; he plops back down on his pillow once the pain settles. "I'm fine. So... The anecdote?"
"Allow me and my family to make a leg brace for you," Jayce says instead as he stares at Viktor's tired expression. "Please. Free of charge."
"I cannot accept something like that and not pay for it, Jayce. I might consider it if you allow me to pay," Viktor mutters, closing his eyes so as to not see the worry in Jayce's face; this is supposed to be concerning for him, not Jayce. It shouldn't plague Jayce's beautiful mind, or anyone else's but Viktor's, for that matter. The last thing he wants is for him to become a burden; hence why he always does things himself and almost never asks for help. He takes a deep breath and says, "Why a forge?"
"What?"
"Why did your family choose to work on a forge?" He says, finally opening his eyes.
Jayce smiles softly, and Viktor's heart seizes. "Well, there is a lot of scrap metal down there; it seemed fitting, you know, to make a living out of it. Though my mother and father never really expected to bring their company Topside. It's actually thanks to your father we are here today; he brought our enterprise into the Council's attention, and it was a complete success," Jayce looks at him and slowly, carefully, lies down next to him. "We owe you and your father a lot. Our lives, really."
"Why me?" Viktor whispers, and hums when Jayce's hand finds his hair.
"Because it was actually you who brought up our company into your father's attention," Jayce whispers in a fondly manner, like every time he speaks about his own family or Viktor. "The boat you built as a kid—"
"How do you know about that?"
"Heimerdinger always speaks about it to his students during class, really. Do you remember how you built it?"
"Well, I sort of remember... I'd get the materials I needed from a kid with chubby cheeks," Viktor says and closes his eyes once again; the hand on his hair stills, and he's about to complain when, at last, it resumes its caresses. "By the bridge. I'd walk all the way down to reach the waters underneath the bridge, and I'd try my boat. There was a kid at the other end of the bridge, and he'd send my boat back with a few pieces of scrap metal or cogs that he thought my boat needed to be improved; I'd make the improvements with what he gave me, and he'd giggle every time he took it between his hands to inspect it. One day, though, he disappeared, and I sort of... had to cross the bridge to get my boat back. A miracle, really, that I wasn’t hurt in the process."
When he gets no response, Viktor opens his eyes to find Jayce lost in thought, looking elsewhere; Viktor reaches out, his knuckles caressing Jayce's uninjured cheek, and he asks, softly, "What's the matter?"
"I—," Jayce starts, then swallows. "Well, I no longer have chubby cheeks, but I like you the same."
Viktor stops breathing; it feels like the world has stopped moving all around him, and his heartbeat becomes really loud to his own ears. His hand, the one he'd reached out to Jayce, remains unmoving in Jayce's cheek, and he suddenly feels the way his eyes well up.
“You—” He starts, and his words get caught up in his throat; his hand now cradles Jayce's face.
Jayce’s free hand caresses his cheek, as if returning the loving gesture. “I never meant to leave like that, but that’s when your father comes in. He found us a home, Topside, and convinced the Council to give my father and mother everything they needed to get their company settled here. Soon after, he gave me the chance to study in your prestigious Academy,” He pauses and sighs, their proximity making Viktor feel the ghost of it over his lips. “I tried to… talk to you, before, multiple times, but I never really… I was too nervous to talk to you. Clearly you didn’t know who I was, and as time went on, I was sure you wouldn’t remember me; after all, we never really saw each other face to face, just across the bridge. It was fair. I knew your face from the times I’d cross the bridge just to see you building or repairing your boat.”
“I’m—” treacherous tear falls down and ends up staining Jayce’s hand. “It was you. I thought it was me trying to cope with the fact that I’d never see you again; a childish way to find some resemblance of familiarity in a stranger. But it was you, and… my father never told me.”
Jayce scoots closer, and the hand that was caressing Viktor's cheek falls to rest on Viktor’s chest. “I’m not sure. Maybe he had his reasons.”
Viktor frowns as he thinks back on the day he sort of rejected Jayce; when Jayce asked if he was rejecting him because he was from the Undercity. Could Heimerdinger have lied to him all this time, to break them apart? Did he know what he did in the evenings, all those year ago? Did he know how fond he was of the boy with chubby cheeks that always seemed to know exactly what he needed? Did he even care? Or did he only care about his son not being friends with people from the Undercity?
“And what might those valid reasons be?” Viktor grunts, and when Jayce opens his mouth to speak, he rectifies, “It’s a rhetorical question, love.”
The nickname slips from his lips with startling ease, and he tries to not make a big deal of it, but Jayce nearly tumbles off of the bed with how quick he searches for Viktor’s eyes. Viktor presses his eyes shut and lays his hand —the one that had been cradling Jayce’s face— over his eyes for good measure.
"Anyways," He adds, clearing his throat. "I don't think keeping this from me is excusable; you were and still are an important part of me, whether he has his reasons or not. I still have our boat, back at home."
Jayce pries the hand off his eyes and smiles; Viktor thinks his cheeks are tinted a darker shade, but makes no comment on it. "Our boat?"
"You helped be build it, of course it's ours."
Jayce hums and rests his head on Viktor's shoulder. "So, now that you know my story, will you let me design your leg brace?"
Viktor huffs. "Alright, alright. A knee brace should suffice, though; for now."
And his mind drifts elsewhere when Jayce starts guiding him through his draft for Viktor's leg brace, the materials he'll need, how much time he might take, how his mother would be delighted to help; he ends up wondering how he never realized the kid with chubby cheeks from across the bridge was Jayce. When they were younger, they never really talked to each other or crossed the bridge at the same time to share their creation, but Viktor should've known that feeling that seemed to pull him to Jayce like a magnet was more than just a hunch or something akin to it; he should've known it was recognition, really, because he now mourns for the lost time. He always had a feeling Jayce wanted to talk to him ever since he enrolled the Academy, but he attributed it to his own delirious mind; and it's no wonder, now that he knows the truth, why he fell in love with Jayce the very first time they spoke, all those years ago when they were notified they'd be sharing a dorm.
He places a kiss at the top of Jayce's head, and Jayce melts into it, the sentence he'd been in the middle of saying long but forgotten.
Viktor uses the silence to finally bring up what's been bothering him ever since he saw Jayce again. "Did you go to the infirmary after the match?"
"I did."
"And?"
Jayce chuckles, nosing at Viktor's neck. "Impatient, aren't we?"
"Jayce."
"It was all just minor injuries. No signs of a concussion, just minor cuts and bruises; the nurse asked me to send you her regards, by the way. She said you did an impeccable job cleaning the wound, like always, and in consequence, saved my, and I quote, beautiful face from being ruined."
Viktor huffs and pushes Jayce's face away from his own, making a show of crossing his arms —at this point, had he not done that, the arm that was under Jayce's body would've been crushed under his considerable weight.
"Who, exactly, are you quoting? Me or the nurse?" He asks, turning his face away when Jayce tries to kiss his cheek.
Jayce's giggles soon turn into a full, hearty laugh and Viktor can't stop the smile taking over his face at such a treasurable noise.
"You, angel, I'm quoting you."
Viktor forgets how to breathe once again, and he wonders if Jayce ever gets tired of making his heart do somersaults or of telling his lungs to forget how to breathe. Jayce takes advantage of his momentary distraction and wraps Viktor's arms around himself, scooting even closer, ever mindful of Viktor's leg. Viktor breathes once he feels Jayce's short hair tickling his nose, and he sighs.
"I... like you, a lot," Jayce mutters against his neck and his embrace tightens. "And I have for so long, I was going to combust if I didn't ask you back then. I'm sorry I didn't do it properly, though."
"Do it now, then."
"Do you want me to...?"
"Ask me properly, yes," Viktor teases. "Unless you don't want to—"
"Viktor, would you grant me the pleasure of being my partner in life?"
"That sounds..." Viktor swallows around the knot in his throat. "Like we're getting ready for marriage. And rehearsed. Was that what you were going to ask?"
"Perhaps," Jayce says and hides further inside the safety of Viktor's embrace when Viktor tries to look him in the eye. "Then, um. Would you allow me to love you the way you deserved to be loved, Vik?"
Just marry me already, his brain uselessly supplies, and the knot in his throat tightens.
"You made it sound one-sided."
"How so?"
"It sounds like you're saying just let me love you, I don't mind if you don't reciprocate," Viktor mutters, one of his hands coming up to rest on Jayce's undercut. "I don't want that."
"Aright, then how about: Viktor, I want you to be my partner, in every sense of the word."
"Every sense of the word?"
"I meant to ask you if you... wanted to team up for the science fair?" Jayce says, and he sounds so shy Viktor thinks he will melt. "I know you always team up with Sky, and I always team up with Mel and Elora, but I was wondering if... you wanted to? Team up with me? Just the two of us. I have this… project I’ve never been able to share with anybody else, and I think you might be able to help me with it.”
"I like both proposals," Viktor says and feels Jayce's chuckle against his neck. "I will be your partner in every sense of the word, and I actually I wanted to ask you to be my science partner, too."
"Great minds think alike."
Viktor thinks back to when they were building a boat out of scrap metal, to the way they never really shared a single word, and how they'd perfectly understand each other, and whispers, "Yes, they do."