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Victor’s condition was getting worse everyday. He was slowing down, having dizzy spells, and becoming tired more often. And of course, there was the coughing. Victor and Jayce had not made any breakthroughs in the healing possibilities of hextech and the situation was becoming desperate.
One evening, Jayce walked Victor to his living quarters. Victor used to deny any help, but now he clung to Jayce’s offered arm without a word. Victor let go of Jayce to unlock his door. He mumbled a thanks and then slipped inside, attempting to close the door quickly behind him. Jayce caught a glimpse inside and his heart broke for what felt like the hundredth time that week. His quarters were cluttered and dusty.
“Can I come in?”
Victor hesitated, but then let him in without a fight. Keeping his head down, Victor hobbled to his bedroom and laid down.
Jayce stood for a moment, then without a word, started tidying up. Victor needed help, but didn’t want to ask for it. It was ok, Jayce would do this for him. Jayce would do anything for him.
As he worked, his mind wandered to the day they presented their hypothesis to Professor Heimerdinger. “I will have this thing destroyed one way or another!” Jayce grit his teeth. Victor had been his assistant for years, did he not care? Did no one care?
Jayce felt like he was the only one doing everything he could for Victor, doing anything at all. It was infuriating. Along with the anger came a sense of helplessness. He recalled the way Victor just stood there, not defending himself. After Heimerdinger stormed out of the room, Jayce had broken down crying.
It was unexpected. Victor didn’t know what to do until he slowly walked over to Jayce and patted his back.
“Shh, it’s alright. Don’t cry.”
“I’m sorry,” Jayce blubbered, “I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”
Victor walked around to face him and suddenly he was embraced. Victor closed his eyes and leaned in.
Jayce clung to him, and Victor let him. It felt good. It felt good to be held like this. He didn’t know when the last time it was he was hugged. He was grateful for Jayce’s boldness in taking the initiative. He continued patting Jayce’s back, then stroked his hair. He felt Jayce’s wet cheek against his neck. Then he started coughing. Jayce moved to pull away but Victor maintained the hug, he suddenly didn’t want to feel that withery loneliness as he coughed his lungs empty. Setting his cane aside, he chose instead to cough into Jayce’s shoulder.
Jayce felt wetness on his shoulder. He felt every raspy inhale and convulsive exhale. He held onto Victor’s thin frame as he rode through his painful death knell. When the coughing finally subsided, Victor was wheezing for breath and wilted against Jayce’s shoulder.
Jayce shuddered. He held Victor’s weight easily, and with a sob still stuck in his throat, he whispered “I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”
Jayce pulled away enough to cup the sides of Victor’s face. He leaned in close then planted a deep, long kiss on Victor’s forehead.
Victor didn’t know what it meant, but he felt secure. He felt there was an understanding between them now. That Victor’s problem was also Jayce’s problem. When they parted, they were able to smile at each other. They moved about in tandem and were able to finish the day’s work in comfortable silence.
…
When Jayce was done cleaning, he poked his head in the bedroom.
“Do you need anything else?”
Victor was lying on his back on top of the sheets.
“No. Thank you.”
“Are you sure? I’ll do anything. I want to help. I want to do something.”
Victor rolled his head to where Jayce was standing, then held his hand out. Jayce went to him immediately, cupping his hand in both of his and knelt down.
Victor pulled his hands closer. “Come sit,” he said.
Jayce sat at the edge of the bed as Victor let go to sit up a little.
“Have you ever been restrained, Jayce?”
“Yeah, when I got arrested,” Jayce said hesitantly.
“Of course. My apologies. How did it feel?”
Jayce shook his head. “It was the most humiliating moment of my life. I had to stand there in front of everyone, Cassandra, my own mother… I wanted to-”
Jayce stopped. He didn’t need to say it.
Victor hummed. ”We all deal with trauma in different ways,” he said with sympathy. “I’ve been restrained many times in my life. Some instances were physical, and some abstract. Growing up in the Undercity, you’re going to have your fair share of scuffles and bullies. Why, I don’t know a single person who hasn’t been mugged at least once.”
Victor paused to take a breath. He caught Jayce’s horrified expression. He almost wanted to smile at the sweet man’s naivete.
“My abilities are limited, and my limits are shorter than most people. You could say that I’m used to being restrained, so much so that I know how to handle it and live through it. And sometimes… even welcome it like an old friend.”
Victor glanced to the side of the room where a coil of rope lay.
“Hand me that rope.”
Jayce looked at it with surprise, an uneasiness rising in his gut. He picked it up and hesitated before handing it to Victor. Victor wouldn’t… He wouldn't try anything with Jayce sitting right there. He wouldn’t ask Jayce to assist him would he? Victor took the rope and stroked it as he continued talking.
“Even now, I am up against the biggest limitation of my life. Time. I am bound to an imminent fate and the prospect is maddening. But at least for tonight, I can choose how and when I am bound.”
He presented the rope back to Jayce.
“Tie me up.”
Jayce stared at the rope for a second as he realized what Victor meant.
“Oh. I didn’t realize you were into that sort of thing.”
He took the rope hesitantly and bit his lip. “How should I…?”
Victor loosened his tie, then put his arms out near each bedpost.
Jayce was clearly uncomfortable, but this was what Victor wanted. He gently took Victor’s wrist and wrapped it with the rope, then guided it to the bedpost. Victor shifted, pulling away a little, and Jayce paused.
“Tighter,” Victor said. He twisted his wrist and with some effort, was able to free himself. “I shouldn’t be able to get free.”
Jayce’s brows knit, but he nodded, fixing the knot. “Sorry, I don’t have any experience with this.”
He tightened the knot, and this time, Victor pulled hard. He twisted his wrist in every direction, grimacing as the rope scraped his skin.
“Hey, careful! Don’t hurt yourself.”
Victor grimaced. “It’s supposed to hurt.”
Jayce winced. He could see the thin tendons of his wrist straining from beneath the rope. It made him anxious that he was going to break his wrist.
“Now the other.” Victor lifted his other arm higher for Jayce to take, but he caught the other man’s sad expression. “If you’re not comfortable doing this, just the one is fine, but-”
Jayce could feel Victor’s disappointment. He had no one else he could do this with. Jayce was no doubt the only person he felt comfortable enough with to ask, and Jayce vaguely wondered if he had ever truly been satisfied in his life. Even such a simple joy as running as a child had been kept from him. At this point in his life, who was Jayce to deny Victor anything?
“No, it’s ok.” Jayce took Victor’s other wrist, and handling it so, so gently, tied it snug to the bedpost.
Victor tested the bind, and as the knot held, his face turned red. He turned his head, not looking Jayce in the eye. As calm as he had been tonight, Jayce was surprised by the sudden change. Then his gaze trailed down and realized Victor’s beginning of arousal through his pants.
Oddly enough, this eased Jayce’s trepidation and he relaxed. Victor was enjoying this.
“Ok.” He said, "Now what?”
“Now…” Victor’s voice was quiet. “Now you do whatever you want.”
Jayce gulped. “Really…?”
“This was all I wanted,” Victor said, indicating the rope. “You can leave or stay, it’s your choice.”
Jayce slowly reached out and touched Victor’s arm, trailing up, over the binding, and to his hand. He rubbed Victor’s fingers between his own, feeling the chill. He didn’t like seeing Victor look so vulnerable and helpless like this, but hearing the way his breathing quickened at his touch, the way his fingers trailed over the rope, Jayce was understanding.
“We don’t want you losing feeling in your hands. I’ll be back in an hour to untie you, no longer than that, ok?”
Victor nodded, still not meeting Jayce’s eye.
Jayce smiled. “I’ll stay close by. Holler if you need anything.” He closed the door gently behind him.
From his half-reclining position, Victor was able to bend both legs. He planted his heels in the mattress and using his thighs, upper arms, and core, lifted himself to a sitting position. The action put pressure on his wrists and bad leg, and he ended up leaning a bit to the side against the headboard.
Already feeling sore, Victor rolled his head to what he thought might be the looser wrist. He studied the knot, visualizing how he would untie it were he able to. It was tight, but simple. It would take a manner of seconds. He stretched as far as he could and was just barely able to scrape the knot with his teeth. Frustration growing, he spent several long minutes trying and failing to bite the rope. Finally, he fell back with exhaustion. His wrist and arm burned from the strain. He then tried the other side, to the same result.
He was now feeling a great deal of strain in his arms and pain in his wrists, and the tips of his fingers were starting to tingle. He sat up as straight as he could and lifted his hands to relieve some of the pressure there. He flexed his fingers for as long as he could until the pain in his shoulders was too much to bear. He then shuffled himself down back to a reclining position, breathing heavily.
There was a moment of relief. He spent several minutes just breathing, but it didn't take all the pain out of his arms. There was also a new pressure in this position, the chest. The longer he laid in this position, the shallower and shallower his breaths became, and the more his arousal climbed. It was almost like a crucifixion, but a true crucifixion was vertical, far more extreme, and Victor would not be able to handle the pressure on his legs.
He heaved himself up again. It was harder this time and he grit his teeth. He looked at his binds again and this time he folded his hands as narrowly as he could and pulled outward. He worked carefully on each wrist, trying to shimmy the rope up his hand in small increments, but was unable to get the rope past the base of his thumb. In a fit of frustration, he yanked hard, then gasped in pain when the rope wouldn’t budge. He yanked his hands this way and that until his skin was burning and he growled from the pain. The only way he could possibly free himself like this was if he broke his thumbs, and he gasped with pleasure at the thought.
As time passed, his frustration grew. He couldn’t touch himself and had to make do with what little friction he felt through his pants. He twisted and struggled, building up his frustration until he shook, straining every muscle in his body, he threw his head back and roared. The cry tore at his throat until it too was raw and sore to his satisfaction.
He collapsed back down, panting heavily. His wrists were killing him. His hands were numb. Sweat trickled on his face that he couldn’t wipe away, and his clothes were bunched in uncomfortable places. He didn’t know how long it had been, but it didn’t feel like it had even been 30 minutes yet. He pretended that he had been left there and Jayce would never come back. How long would it take for someone to find him? How lucid would he be when they did?
He had just enough energy left to make miniscule movements. Pressing his legs together, he rocked his hips and using the friction of his pants, was able to finish his pleasure. He then lay limp, his breathing slowing down, and allowed exhaustion to consume him. He coughed weakly, then closed his eyes and fell into a trance.
…
After closing Victor’s door behind him, Jayce stood quietly in the middle of the room. He twiddled his thumbs for a bit and thought about what Victor said about coping. Jayce had not needed any way to cope with his shameful downfall because Victor had materialized into his life at just the right moment to lift him up.
Jayce tip-toed back over to Victor’s door and laid his ear against it. He could hear faint but harsh breathing and the creak of the bed frame. It’s a shame they weren’t compatible in this way. Jayce wanted to make Victor feel the way Mel had, sweet and beautiful, but what Jayce wanted right now didn’t matter.
Jayce walked over to Victor’s bathroom and closed the door behind him. He then helped himself to his own fantasy of Victor. Was it morbid of him to beat off while thinking of a dying man? No. Victor wouldn’t die. Jayce won’t let him.
When he was finished he loitered in the hall for a while. He triple checked Victor’s quarters wouldn’t lock behind him, then sort of stood guard and gazed out the window. He wouldn’t tell Victor what he had done in the bathroom, or Mel, there simply was no reason to. He checked his watch often, then rechecked it three times as often. The minutes couldn’t pass quickly enough. He thought about going to check on Victor before the hour, then changed his mind.
…
Victor opened his eyes when he felt a hand on his wrist. Jayce cradled his wrist as he gently untied it, then lowered it to Victor’s side.
“Did you have fun?” Jayce asked.
Victor sat up, huffing a laugh. It sounded like he was asking if he had a good day at school.
“Yes, I needed this. Thank you.”
Jayce freed Victor’s other wrist then handed him a glass of water. If he noticed the hoarseness in his voice, he didn’t mention it. He placed a warm hand on Victor’s shoulder.
“I’ll be right back.”
He was gone before Victor could ask where he was going. Before he knew it, Jayce was back with a jar of burn cream they kept in the lab in case of accidents. Jayce’s generosity knew no bounds.
He sat on the edge of Victor’s bed and took his hand. Victor simply sat and watched while Jayce rubbed the cream into his burns and massaged the feeling back into his hands. He was far more gentle than Victor would have done for himself.
When Jayce was finished, he lingered. Victor had to look into those big pretty eyes of his and finally tell him to go home for the night.