Chapter Text
Unrequited love—a cliché so overused it made Viktor roll his eyes just thinking about it. Even in books, he couldn’t stand the trope. If you liked someone, if you valued their presence, just say it. Life was far too short for the theatrics of longing from afar. Viktor lived by that belief.
Perhaps it was because he had faced death more times than he cared to count. He’d picked out his own casket, planned his own funeral, and stared down the abyss enough to know that waiting was a luxury he couldn’t afford. Viktor wasn’t blessed with the certainty of a normal lifespan. For him, death felt like a gamble—an unpredictable roll of the dice.
Maybe he’d live to see 80, or maybe tomorrow would be his last sunrise. He’d already defied the odds so many times that doctors called him a miracle. Viktor didn’t feel like a miracle, though. More like a patchwork Frankenstein, stitched together from the remnants of borrowed time.
It was a strange way to grow up. High school had passed in a blur of hospital stays, nights tethered to machines that hummed and beeped in rhythm with his fragile body. But the experience had taught him something invaluable: life was fleeting, and immortality was a myth. Fear was a luxury Viktor couldn’t indulge.
So, with the urgency of someone racing the clock, Viktor had decided to embrace life with both hands. He woke early to watch the sunrise, poured his soul into his projects, and never left words unsaid.
That same desperation to live fully was how his friendship with Jayce had started. If Viktor had lived a more conventional life, it might have taken him years to muster the courage to approach him. Jayce was, after all, the golden boy of the academy.
He was the university’s crown jewel—the prodigy who drew sponsors like moths to a flame, the student who made headlines for getting into programs far beyond his years. People called him a star, and Viktor had to agree. Jayce radiated warmth and light, his presence as magnetic as a supernova. Viktor couldn’t help but be pulled into his orbit.
“Hi,” Viktor had said one morning, finding Jayce sitting alone on a campus bench, engrossed in a book. Anxiety churned in Viktor’s stomach, but he swallowed it down. He didn’t have time to second-guess himself.
Jayce looked up, startled but friendly, his warm smile lighting up his face. He was wearing a university sweater, the sleeves pushed up to ward off the morning chill. “Hello?” he replied, his voice a little louder than Viktor had expected.
“I noticed the Pokémon badges on your backpack,” Viktor said, gesturing awkwardly. It wasn’t much, but it was an excuse to start a conversation. A way to extend the moment just a little longer.
It turned out Viktor’s guess was spot on. Jayce’s grin stretched wide, his excitement evident. “Finally, someone noticed! They’re subtle enough that not everyone recognizes them, so only people who actually know Pokémon get it.”
Viktor couldn’t help but chuckle. Jayce was so different from him, so animated and open. Yet somehow, that difference only made him more endearing.
“Do you play? What’s your favorite Pokémon?” Jayce asked eagerly, gesturing for Viktor to sit beside him on the bench. The enthusiasm in his voice was almost contagious.
Viktor hesitated for just a moment before sitting down, bringing his cane close to his chest as he adjusted his position. Already, he could feel the blood pooling in his leg, the brace creating an irritating itch, but he pushed it aside. Jayce’s genuine energy was hard to resist.
“Of course,” Viktor replied, a small smile curling his lips. Video games had been one of his escapes for years. A DS console was easy to slip into a hospital bag, perfect for waiting rooms or long recovery days after surgeries. Games had given him something to focus on—something that wasn’t pain or fear.
“That’s a tough question, though,” Viktor added, tilting his head thoughtfully. “Which generation are we talking about?”
Jayce’s eyes lit up, and Viktor realized with some amusement that he had stumbled onto a topic the other man was truly passionate about.
The conversation had initially been just a pretext for Viktor to introduce himself. Based on what little he’d heard, he’d assumed Jayce would be more into sports or politics—someone with charisma to match his reputation. Sure, he’d seen Jayce in the programming lab a few times, but Viktor had dismissed it as a side project for extra credit.
But the more they talked, the more Jayce revealed himself to be a genuine nerd. They dove into discussions about the designs of different Pokémon, debated the merits of each generation, and even ventured into retro games. Viktor found himself enjoying the banter more than he had expected.
Before long, Viktor was completely drawn in—not just by the conversation but by Jayce himself. His bright eyes, his easy laugh, the way he talked with his hands—it was disarming.
Eventually, Viktor glanced at the time and realized he had to leave for his next lecture. With some reluctance, he scribbled his phone number onto a scrap of paper and handed it to Jayce. “I have to run, but we should definitely finish this conversation later,” he said, standing up.
To his surprise, Jayce texted him almost immediately after he walked away. It was the start of something Viktor hadn’t quite anticipated, but he found himself looking forward to it nonetheless.
Friendship with Jayce Talis was probably the easiest thing Viktor had ever experienced. Despite their differences, their connection felt natural, like two puzzle pieces seamlessly clicking together.
They quickly fell into a rhythm, meeting up for pizza and talking late into the night. Laughing with Jayce came effortlessly, and their shared interests bridged any gaps between them. From their mutual love of video games and technology to their shared disdain for winter, the topics were endless.
Countless nights were spent in Viktor’s cramped dorm room, huddled around his grainy, small TV. Jayce, ever resourceful, somehow managed to get his hands on the latest game releases without selling a kidney or paying a small fortune.
Viktor, on the other hand, had his own methods. A trip to the Undercity’s market often led to shady booths with homemade game cases. Sure, the games were stolen, burned onto blank DVDs with questionable quality, but Jayce never complained. In fact, when Viktor managed to score something truly special, Jayce would often cheer and even lift Viktor off the ground in a bear hug.
Viktor’s dorm room became their haven. As a student using mobility aids, he’d been assigned a single room on the ground floor to avoid the building’s notoriously unreliable stairs. While the room was small and sparsely furnished, it quickly became the designated hangout spot. Jayce, who shared his room with two other students, practically lived there some weeks. Whether sprawled across Viktor’s patched-up rug or perched on his desk, Jayce made himself at home.
Their time together wasn’t always about gaming, though. University life wasn’t all fun and leisure. The academy, one of the first to offer computer science programs, was navigating uncharted territory. Computers and video games were still new to the public, and Jayce often remarked that they were the first generation to truly experience the digital boom. But that was probably what every generation thought.
Despite their focus on programming, the academy’s curriculum was still chaotic. Students were required to take a mishmash of unrelated courses, and professors often seemed to know less about computers than their students did. The whole system was a mess, but it had its charm.
Through it all, Viktor and Jayce found a way to make life at the academy enjoyable. Their friendship became the cornerstone of their university experience, woven with laughter, late-night conversations, and shared dreams of what the future might hold. Somewhere along the way, they stopped being just Viktor or just Jayce Talis. They became inseparable, known to everyone as a pair—joined at the hip.
Viktor was there for Jayce’s panic attacks when the snow began to fall, sitting beside him and coaching him through the fear until he could breathe again. In turn, Jayce was by Viktor’s side through countless hospital visits. He accompanied Viktor to appointments, never wavering, and was there on the day doctors declared Viktor truly healthy for the first time. It was a moment they’d both fought for, and it meant Viktor could finally live without the looming shadow of early death.
“I want to start posting online,” Jayce mentioned one late night, bent over a pile of notes. His tone was casual, but the idea held an undercurrent of excitement. Viktor glanced up from his spot on the bed, raising an eyebrow.
“That’s an interesting idea. What would you post to feed the algorithm?” he asked, amused. He could already picture Jayce as a creator—it suited him.
They started small, pooling what little money they had to buy a grainy second hand camera. Viktor, naturally, joined Jayce’s adventure, taking on the role of the man behind the curtain—editing videos, optimizing uploads, and troubleshooting tech issues. Together, they stumbled through the steep learning curve, figuring things out as they went.
Jayce’s channel grew faster than either of them had anticipated. His easy charm and relatable personality drew people in, whether he was playing games or recording lighthearted vlogs. At first, the earnings were modest, just enough to upgrade from instant noodles to real meals with vegetables. Occasionally, they even treated themselves to a meal out at a restaurant.
Then the channel really took off. With more viewers came more ad revenue, sponsorships, and opportunities. Suddenly, they weren’t just scraping by—they could afford better equipment, rent, and even save for the future.
“I think I’m going to drop out,” Jayce said one day during a walk through the park. His tone was thoughtful, almost hesitant. “I’ve got my bachelor’s, the channel is doing great, and honestly? If I stay any longer, I think I’ll end up shoving Professor Heimerdinger down the stairs.”
Viktor couldn’t hold back a chuckle. He owed Professor Heimerdinger a lot—the man had practically paid for Viktor’s education—but even he understood Jayce’s frustration.
“Not the worst plan,” Viktor replied with a smirk. “Besides, I think the channel’s earning enough to keep you out of trouble for a while. Just don’t expect me to cover for you when Heimerdinger finds out.”
With that, Jayce made his decision. Their new life was beginning, one video, one stream, one late-night edit at a time. Together, they’d build something remarkable.
Viktor chose to complete his degree, even if it was just to hang it on the wall. He was the first in his family to escape the grip of poverty, the first to make it out of the Undercity. It was bittersweet, though—there was no one left to share the achievement with. Both his parents were long gone, and his relationship with his adoptive father had fractured beyond repair.
Still, as he held that degree in his hands, Viktor felt a deep sense of pride. He had come so far, against all odds, and even if no one else could see it, he knew what it meant. This was proof of how far he’d climbed—and how much further he intended to go.
After school, Viktor didn’t even bother applying for jobs. It was a given that Jayce would hire him as his moderator without hesitation. It was a good job, too. Their channel thrived, transitioning from videos to livestreams.
Streaming fit their schedules better and eliminated the pressure of constantly brainstorming new content. They became one of the first big names on the platform, trailblazing their way to success.
Then, for some utterly idiotic reason, Jayce decided they needed to move in together. "It’ll be easier," he said, flashing those disarming dimples and his sunshine grin. Viktor, against his better judgment, agreed. Foolish.
Their friendship was solid, one of the best things in Viktor’s life. But then came mornings like this one, where walking into the kitchen meant finding his half-naked best friend casually eating cereal. That sight did something to Viktor's insides—something visceral and inescapable.
It was impossible to ignore how attractive Jayce was when they lived together, sharing space and crossing into casual intimacy. Or rather, Jayce decided they were close enough for casual intimacy, constantly invading Viktor’s personal space with hugs, slinging an arm around his shoulders, or jabbing a playful finger into his ribs. Jayce was just... always there.
That morning, Viktor had to physically restrain himself. Seeing Jayce shirtless, sculpted abs on display, his arms effortlessly toned—it was overwhelming. Viktor’s brain short-circuited. He nearly walked into the doorframe, then almost choked on his own breath.
“Eh, sorry, dude,” Jayce said with a laugh. “Realized I’m out of clean shirts, so I’m doing laundry. You’ll just have to deal with me like this for a bit.” He winked, entirely too comfortable, spooning cereal into his mouth like this was normal.
And deal with it Viktor did—barely. He spent the rest of the day plagued by intrusive thoughts, wet dreams he didn’t need, and fantasies he couldn’t shake. He tried looking anywhere but at Jayce, but his gaze always betrayed him, sliding back to the man who was driving him to distraction.
Jayce had a body that looked like it belonged in a fitness ad, and Viktor hated himself for noticing it. He wanted Jayce, deeply and desperately, with a longing that bordered on painful. His teeth itched with the thought of biting into the firmness of his skin, the softness of his warmth.
The realization made Viktor question everything. His sexuality had never been a mystery—he’d known he was somewhere in the "I like kissing men" spectrum for a long time. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was the specific man he wanted to kiss. The man who also happened to be his best friend and a complete idiot.
By the time Viktor admitted to himself that he’d fallen for Jayce, he was in too deep. He didn’t just love him for his looks—though those didn’t hurt. He loved Jayce for everything he was: his laugh, his stubborn optimism, his boundless energy. Viktor had fallen hard, so hard that he was surprised he hadn’t sustained a concussion.
But his moral code, the principle he’d lived by—confess your feelings, don’t waste time? Yeah, that had gone out the window. Because confessing his feelings to Jayce seemed impossible. Not when Jayce was oblivious to every hint, every lingering look, every subtle touch.
And not when the risk of losing their friendship loomed so large. They’d been friends for so long that Viktor wasn’t sure he could survive rejection. So he buried his feelings deeper, even as they continued to grow, hoping against hope that maybe—just maybe—Jayce would finally notice.
Somewhere along the way, Viktor started showing up on Jayce’s livestreams far too often. At first, it was sporadic—dropping by to mock Jayce when he botched a tricky game mechanic or to fix whatever tech issue Jayce had inevitably caused. He didn’t plan to stay long, just muttering sarcastic remarks and throwing insults at Jayce as he worked.
The chat noticed.
And, surprisingly, they loved it.
Fans immediately latched onto the dynamic between them, dubbing it "golden retriever and black cat energy." They flooded the comments with demands for Viktor to appear more frequently. At first, Viktor thought they were joking. But then the streams started pulling in even more viewers, and it was clear: Jayce's audience adored him.
Viktor found it baffling. He was an introvert through and through—not shy, just completely uninterested in most people. Yet here he was, insulting their favorite content creator to his face, and the audience loved it. Fans couldn’t get enough of his dry humor, his biting sarcasm, and the way he perfectly balanced Jayce’s golden retriever energy with his own sharp-edged cynicism.
It didn’t hurt that he was good at video games, either. Viktor had excellent aim, quick reflexes, and an uncanny knack for strategy. He was an invaluable teammate and a ruthless opponent. Jayce had long since stopped challenging him to in-game shooting competitions, calling Viktor’s skills “unfair” while sulking over yet another humiliating defeat. It was a running joke now—Jayce, the sore loser, and Viktor, the smug winner.
Entertaining the fans wasn’t hard. Their banter came naturally, the same way it always had when no one was watching. Now, with an audience hanging on their every word, they didn’t even need to try. Their easy rhythm, full of sharp comebacks and ridiculous tangents, kept viewers hooked.
What started as Viktor’s occasional appearances on stream quickly turned into something more. Jayce, always eager to share every part of his life with Viktor, suggested turning the channel into a shared project. At first, Viktor hesitated, but the idea of spending more time with Jayce convinced him to say yes.
They hired Sky as their new moderator, and the transition was seamless.
To Viktor’s shock, he became popular. Genuinely popular. People recognized him on the street, approached him at conventions, and tagged him in fan-made art and memes online. It was surreal.
They split their social media presence, sharing the main channel but maintaining individual profiles. Viktor couldn’t fathom how people were interested in him as a person, but they were. Fan pages sprung up dedicated to his snarky commentary and his subtle smirks. He never quite got used to the attention, but it did make him happy—being wanted, being seen.
Still, the streams weren’t for the fans. Not really. Viktor stayed for purely selfish reasons. Jayce.
It was good—great, even. Spending hours playing games, sitting shoulder to shoulder with Jayce, exchanging banter that felt more natural than breathing. But no matter how much Viktor loved their life, he couldn’t help but wish for more.
If only Jayce could see what was right in front of him.
Viktor had fallen in love, as deeply as one could fall, and there was no coming back from it. But Jayce was oblivious. He hadn’t noticed the lingering looks, the way Viktor softened when it was just the two of them, or the careful affection that threaded through every interaction.
It was a good life—playing games, sharing laughter, and building something meaningful with the man he loved. But it would’ve been perfect if Jayce felt the same way.
Maybe Viktor just wasn’t that lucky.
The universe, it seemed, was hellbent on reminding Viktor of exactly how unlucky he was in matters of the heart. The day had been like any other—streaming wrapped, schedules completed—and now he and Jayce were sprawled on their shared apartment’s couch, each doing their own thing in companionable silence.
Viktor was cocooned in a fluffy blanket, only his head and one hand visible as he turned the pages of his latest thriller. Jayce sat at the other end of the couch, scrolling through emails on his laptop, occasionally pausing to jot something down. They’d both had their fill of shared activities for the day and now indulged in their respective hobbies—Jayce’s prep work for a future stream, Viktor’s love of books.
“Haven’t you just started that yesterday?” Jayce asked, not looking up from his screen.
“Hm? Oh, yes. I don’t particularly enjoy descriptive passages. I tend to focus on the dialogue and skim over everything else,” Viktor replied nonchalantly. Books didn’t last him long, but his selective reading style kept the pace quick.
“You’re an animal,” Jayce said, voice full of mock disgust. Viktor grinned, sharp and smug.
“And I won’t take judgment from someone who cries over terrible Hallmark movies every Christmas,” Viktor shot back.
Jayce smiled, unbothered. “Touché.”
The silence between them settled again, easy and familiar. Sometimes Viktor thought they’d skipped past the whole dating phase entirely and landed squarely in “old married couple” territory. It was comforting, this domesticity they shared, but also maddening.
Because every so often, Jayce would shatter that beautiful illusion with an offhand remark. Introducing Viktor as his "best buddy" or casually calling him his “dearest friend.” It was enough to make Viktor want to scream. How could Jayce not realize that Viktor was hopelessly, painfully in love with him?
A few months ago, after Jayce’s birthday, Viktor had even tried asking him out. Smiling up at him, meeting Jayce’s warm brown eyes, and doing his best to channel the effortless charm Jayce himself possessed, Viktor had said:
“Would you like to grab dinner? There’s a restaurant on the corner that looks quite delicious.”
It was as direct as Viktor could manage without turning into a blushing mess. Genetics had cursed him with an embarrassing propensity for turning red at the worst times.
Jayce had smiled, as bright and unassuming as ever. “Sure! I mean, we always eat together anyway, right? Hard not to when we live together. But I wouldn’t miss out on something that good with my best bud.”
Viktor had wanted to fling himself out the nearest window. It was hopeless. Maybe Jayce really didn’t see him that way. Maybe Jayce wasn’t even into men. And Viktor… well, Viktor wasn’t exactly conventionally attractive.
He sighed now, pulling the blanket tighter around himself, stealing a glance at Jayce, who was still buried in his laptop. It didn’t matter. His feelings weren’t going anywhere. Not today, not tomorrow, and probably not ever.
Viktor was doing his best to lose himself in his book, trying to shake off the unwelcome wave of sadness that had crept in. He wasn’t prepared for Jayce’s sudden outburst.
“Viktor, fucking guess what?” Jayce’s voice was so loud and ecstatic that Viktor nearly toppled off the couch. Jayce had leapt to his feet, already mid-dance, the picture of unbridled joy.
Blinking and patting down his thoroughly disheveled hair, Viktor looked up at him, clearly unimpressed. “Hm?” he murmured, raising an eyebrow at Jayce, who looked ecstatic enough to try cartwheels.
Before Viktor could get another word in, Jayce shoved his laptop practically into Viktor’s face, the screen so close that all he could see was an overwhelming blur of brightness. He squinted, grabbed the device, and pushed it to a more readable distance, fixing Jayce with a glare before glancing down at the screen.
Jayce was practically vibrating with excitement as he spoke. “It’s from M. Medarda! You know, the one I told you about? The tech startup genius. Crazy successful businesswoman. I showed you that interview she did a few weeks ago?”
Viktor hummed distractedly as he skimmed through the email, half-listening to Jayce ramble. The words on the screen seemed unremarkable at first—until he got to the end. His eyes widened comically.
“She… she wants to collaborate with us?” Viktor finally managed, his voice laced with disbelief.
“Yes!” Jayce shouted, grabbing Viktor’s shoulder and giving him a jubilant shake, his laughter filling the room.
Viktor stared at the email again, rereading the words to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. “That’s… incredible,” he said, his voice quieter now but no less genuine.
Jayce, however, wasn’t about to let Viktor underplay this moment. “Incredible? Viktor, this is life-changing!” he exclaimed, still grinning as if he’d just won the lottery.
Viktor couldn’t help but smile, Jayce’s enthusiasm infectious. “I suppose it is,”
“Suppose?” Jayce teased. “Viktor, this is going to be huge!”
Viktor couldn’t help the tiny sting of jealousy curling in his chest. If only Jayce reacted to him the way he did to this opportunity—or to Mel Medarda.
Jayce practically idolized her, always bringing up her latest interview or showing Viktor a catalog of her cutting-edge tech. To be fair, her gaming devices were impressive: powerhouse machines capable of running games with mind-blowing graphics, all while being eco-friendly, cruelty-free, and somehow affordable.
It wasn’t that Viktor disliked her. He didn’t even know her. But it would’ve been nice if the person he had a not-so-small crush on wasn’t so obviously fascinated by someone else.
Still, he genuinely felt happy for them. Even if Jayce’s inevitable “fanboy era” was bound to be mildly irritating, the collaboration had potential. Fans would love the content, and Viktor had to admit that getting to test out Mel’s shiny new technology sounded exciting.
Besides, he figured Mel Medarda wouldn’t pay them much attention. It was just business: one meeting, one handshake, maybe a quick tour of the product lineup. After that, they’d do their part, enjoy the perks, and move on.
Yes, Mel likely wouldn’t even remember their names.
Later, Viktor would wish he could slap his past self for jinxing it so thoroughly.