Work Text:
Jayce gasps for breath, leaned far enough forward in his chair that it shakes under his weight, threatening to lose balance. He can barely feel the tilt of his body with the way his eyes are squeezed shut, the tears gathered at the corners of his eyes threatening to spill. The bark of his laugh squeezes his lungs void of air, but his chest continues to twitch in his amusement.
He throws himself upright with another dangerous wobble of his chair but pays it no mind as the new position allows him to take in a few stuttered breaths, wheezing under the strain. With his head leaned back and the muscles of his face relaxing a little he can open his eyes enough to feel the tears cooling on his face.
Through his blurred vision, Jayce can make out the shape of his lab partner on the chair across from him.
Viktor has his upper body bent over the table, forehead almost touching the papers with hastily scribbled notes on them. He has one fist on the table, clenched so hard it’s turned white and it trembles as he, too, struggles to regain his breath.
Jayce waits until Viktor is able to take in some air again, then he mischievously raises his index finger and wiggles it in mock-admonition. “If I wanted my hair cut I would have— had it done professionally!” he says in his best Heimerdinger voice, interrupted by the stutter of a held-back laugh.
Viktor shrieks as he doubles over once again, slamming his fist on the table repeatedly. Jayce can see the tears on his partner’s face rolling freely as his eyes squeeze shut again. As all the air leaves Viktor’s lungs again, he snorts in a breath and then continues to howl in amusement. The sound of his partner’s snort alongside the mental image of Professor Heimerdinger’s singed strands of hair, messy and pathetic after he got too close to their prototype, has Jayce losing it all over again.
They haven’t known each other for long, but Jayce knows there is something special there. He is sure Viktor has noticed it too as it took him no time at all to start relaxing and letting his guard down around Jayce. They’ve joked and laughed together many times, every smile, every chuckle entirely warm and genuine.
But they haven’t shared a laugh as open and unrestrained as this one. It’s the first time Jayce has had the honor of hearing that Viktor snorts when he laughs hard enough, and that he hits any available surface with his fist when he’s laughed himself breathless.
As they slowly start to calm down, Jayce allows himself a moment to commit Viktor’s damp eyelashes and the red of his cheeks to his memory. In a completely normal way, of course.
—
Their first big fight is a result of several smaller disagreements overflowing and finally exploding.
“I told you it wouldn’t work and you refused to listen! Why won’t you just trust me on things like this?” Jayce asks, frustrated with his partner’s stubbornness. They’ve been working for eighteen hours straight with nothing to show for it and both of them are running out of patience.
“Just because you deemed it impossible doesn't mean you couldn’t have been mistaken! It wouldn’t be the first time,” Viktor counters, voice raised but not quite shouting. He has his arms crossed over his chest and rolls his eyes. All it does is infuriate Jayce more.
“And you hold that against me? You’ve been wrong plenty of times, it comes with the job! You don’t see me throwing it in your face whenever it’s convenient.” Jayce shoots up from his chair and throws his hands up. He turns away in favor of pacing back and forth in an attempt to walk the anger out of his system.
He hears Viktor scoff behind him and closes his eyes to keep himself from looking. “I’m not holding it against you, I’m saying you could have been wrong. I would appreciate it if you could refrain from taking it personally.” Jayce stops in his tracks and whirls around. The absurdity.
“You’re the one who worded it like that. Wouldn’t be the first time? Why even say that if you’re not trying to blame me?” Viktor looks off to the side and clicks his tongue. He’s clearly annoyed but there’s a hint of well masked guilt on his face. Still, he does not back down.
“I’m not responsible for how you interpret my words.” There is less fire behind it now, like he’s realized that he’s being unfair. But Jayce knows better than to think Viktor will give in. “In any case, even if you were right, surely you understand the reasoning behind my insistence to test it regardless. We cannot base our research on mere theories.”
Now it is Jayce’s turn to cross his arms. “We’re going to have to compromise. Time is limited, the council is breathing down our necks and if we don’t have any results by Tuesday we won’t hear the end of it!” The pressure under which they’ve been working has been piling up as of late.
Viktor throws a hand in Jayce’s direction and rolls his eyes so hard his head tilts back, a gesture that clearly reads as here we go again. They’ve had disagreements over the council’s demands before but they never got too heated.
Viktor faces him again. “And what will they do? They need us, Jayce. Why are you so desperate to keep them satisfied when they treat us like we can never live up to their expectations anyway? There is no pleasing these people so we may as well take all the time we need.” He’s getting more agitated now, if the twitch of his brow is any indication.
“And when they decide we’re not efficient enough and cut our funding, then what? We need them too! If they no longer consider us useful we will both be punished for breaking the academy’s rules back then.”
“We still don’t have to meet every deadline, that would be an impossible standard to meet. Surely they will understand why the testing phase takes time. So what if they are dissatisfied? I think they will get over it.” Viktor huffs and Jayce wants to rip his own hair out. Why won’t Viktor see reason?
“I’d rather not test how lenient they’ll be. I will aim to meet their deadlines and if you won’t cooperate I’ll just have to do it myself.” Jayce doesn’t actually know how he would logistically do that. They rely so heavily on each other in their work that redoing parts alone would be convoluted and exhausting. He doesn’t have the time to spare.
Viktor knows this too. “That would add too much to your workload. You’d disappoint them regardless.”
“At least I’ll have tried! I’d appreciate it if you would, too!”
“Working faster is not working better, Jayce. I have no desire to be a lapdog for Piltover’s elites and I figured you would agree.” It’s a low blow and they both know it. Jayce isn’t any happier with the council’s pressure than Viktor is, they’ve talked about it before. He knows Viktor is just saying it out of anger, but the lapdog comment hits Jayce where it hurts. He, too, has been at mercy of this city’s system all his life. Forced to give in and try his best to appeal to those who can support his dream.
Jayce clenches his fists at his sides, leaning forward as if to deliver a verbal blow back. He bites his lip and hisses, stops himself from making things worse. He’s not sure how much his face gives away, but there must be something there as Viktor’s expression softens. His mouth falls open as if to say something, but Jayce whirls around before he has the chance. He needs to cool off. They both do.
Jayce stomps over to the door of their lab, yanks it open and walks out. As he’s leaving, he can’t resist slamming the door behind him. The mental image of Viktor startling at the sound is not as satisfying as he would have liked.
By the next day, Jayce’s hurt has subsided, but not disappeared. He is reminded of it by the distant sting in his chest when he sees Viktor’s form, already hunched over their workbench by the time Jayce arrives.
Jayce decides to be mature and greets him. When Viktor turns around, Jayce can see the lingering guilt in his eyes, the weight of words still unspoken from the previous day, still at the tip of his tongue. Jayce lets him.
“Jayce, I… I apologize for my words.They were needlessly cruel, a result of misdirected anger. I should not have taken it out on you.” Jayce gently closes the door behind himself as he enters the lab. He says nothing, but keeps his gaze on Viktor to let him know he’s listening.
Viktor clears his throat, looking uncomfortable. “I understand your insistence on presenting results on time. While I still believe that proper testing is necessary, I recognize that you only want to secure the means necessary in order to continue our work. I may not like it, but we do need to keep the council satisfied.” As he speaks, honesty dispels the awkwardness in his words.
Jayce remains silent for another moment, watching Viktor’s face. He looks tired. Jayce sighs.
“I wasn’t entirely fair either. I know you wanting to test it further wasn’t because you didn’t trust me, it’s just hard to find a good balance between speed and quality. We still have so much left to do and time is running out.”
Viktor lifts one hand to his hair and looks down. “And now we’ve wasted a good chunk of it arguing. I’m not sure three all-nighters in a row will be enough to finish this in time.” Jayce moves closer so he can rest a comforting hand on Viktor’s slumped shoulder.
“We’ll do what we can and if that’s not enough, well… I think the council will get over it.” And when Viktor lifts his head to meet his eyes, Jayce’s smile is bright and infectious.
—
As the days get shorter and the wind begins to carry a biting cold, Jayce feels like a weight has been draped over his shoulders. It’s not anything new, a seasonal weariness that returns to him every year. He is used to it by now, but it doesn’t get any easier.
Viktor has noticed, of course he has, but he’s unsure if he should bring it up. It’s the first winter since they met and he hasn’t seen Jayce act like this before. It reminds him of the night they broke into Heimerdinger’s lab together, when he found Jayce just in time to stop him from making that one irreversible mistake in the broken remnants of his destroyed apartment.
There is something similar in the way Jayce spaces out, how he suddenly goes quiet, leaving only a shell of the cheerful person he usually is. It’s not exactly the same, but it’s similar.
They sit at their respective spots in the lab, working individually on the tasks they split between themselves. At least they try to.
Viktor can barely focus on the notes he’s holding, the words blurring and failing to register as his gaze drifts over to his partner for the fourth time in less than ten minutes. The reason for his distraction, as has become quite common these days, is his partner's blank stare into empty space.
Jayce looks exhausted. His skin is unhealthily pale, so the shadows under his eyes stand out all the more. Viktor pretends to be busy as he watches, although he isn’t sure Jayce would notice the intensity of the gaze even if Viktor made no effort to hide it. He wants to say something, wants to get Jayce out of this state, but he doesn’t quite know how to approach it.
Viktor looks back to the blurry words in front of him, not expecting to make sense of them at this point. His eyes begin to follow the words of the same sentence for the third time when a sudden sound cuts through the silence and startles him.
He looks in Jayce’s direction just in time to see the pen he’s been holding come to a halt from where it was rolling on the table. Jayce’s face remains unchanged, eyes unblinking. There is no indication he noticed that he dropped his pen at all. This is concerning. Viktor clears his throat.
“Jayce?” he asks, voice soft and quiet. Too quiet, it seems, as Jayce still does not react. Viktor reaches for the cane leaning against his desk and uses it to force himself to stand. He approaches his partner carefully, stops before he can get too close. He doesn’t want to scare him. “Jayce, are you alright?” he tries again.
Jayce blinks, slow and deliberate. He does not startle and his eyes do not focus, but Viktor can tell he’s listening. A small relief. He takes another step closer, now close enough that he could reach out and touch Jayce if he wanted to, but not enough to corner him at his desk.
“May I?” Viktor asks, lifting a hand and hovering it near Jayce’s shoulder. His partner blinks again but says nothing and Viktor figures it’s as much permission as he can get right now. He brings his palm down slowly, gently, leaving enough time for Jayce to adjust and pull away if he wishes to. He doesn’t.
Viktor strokes a careful thumb over Jayce’s shoulder. “You’re okay, it’s okay, uuh… Can you tell me what is happening right now?” He has no experience with anything like this, so he can only hope he’s not making it worse. Jayce says nothing, but there is a spark of recognition under the caress of Viktor’s thumb.
“That’s okay, you don’t have to. I’m here regardless. Take all the time you need, you’re safe.” Viktor tries not to move around too much in case Jayce would react negatively.
Minutes go by, but they feel both unbearably long and fleetingly short at the same time. Viktor can’t tell how long it’s been since he got up. The only indication of time passing as he stands next to his partner with one arm outstretched, soothing him, is the way his leg begins to protest. Viktor tries to shift his weight, but it only makes him more aware of his discomfort.
He looks back to Jayce’s eyes, sees that some clarity has returned over the stretch of minutes. But he still won’t look at Viktor.
Viktor tries to hold out longer, but every second brings a new wave of rising agony to his leg. He clenches his teeth and tries to keep quiet as he takes an unsteady step to the side to lean against the desk. The relief is instantaneous, but he can still feel the tension vibrating painfully through his muscles. His hand is still on Jayce’s shoulder, rubbing comfort into the fabric of his shirt.
It seems that Viktor’s movement has caught Jayce’s attention. His golden eyes are on Viktor now, aware but still a little dazed. “Viktor,” he breathes, voice barely above a whisper. He sounds so small, so vulnerable that it tears at Viktor’s chest.
“I’m here, Jayce,” he reassures his partner. Jayce blinks again, shifts a little and pulls his shoulder out from under Viktor’s touch, looking overwhelmed. Viktor removes hand and places it on the desk to take more weight off of his leg. He keeps his eyes on Jayce.
“I’m— sorry, I’m….” Jayce looks down at his own hands, curling his fingers like he’s testing the feeling.
“I understand,” Viktor says, even though he’s not sure he does. “Can you tell me what happened?”
“I’m… not sure, I didn’t— It’s cold,” Jayce mumbles, not quite making sense. Viktor nods. He’ll give him as much time as he needs to collect his thoughts.
They both stand in silence again, Jayce looking down at his hands as he flexes them and Viktor watching patiently. More time passes.
They stay like this until Jayce eventually drops his hands into his lap and looks back up. He looks closer to his usual self now. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what— I didn’t mean to trouble you.”
Viktor shakes his head and tries for a comforting smile. “It’s no trouble. Are you feeling better now?” He has more questions but holds back. He doesn’t want to overwhelm Jayce any more.
He doesn’t have to ask.
“I think I’m better, I— This happens sometimes. I’m sorry, I should have told you. It’s more frequent in winter, because of the cold. It only rarely happens outside of that.” Jayce looks like the words are painful.
“You don’t have to tell me. I’d just like to know how I can help if it happens again,” Viktor says, shifting against the desk. Jayce looks down at Viktor’s leg and his eyes widen with realization before starts to get up. Viktor holds out a hand to stop him, readjusts his cane and goes to get his own chair.
He pulls it closer to where Jayce is, wanting to stick close for Jayce’s comfort and his own. Viktor lets out a breath he’s been holding as he drops himself down to sit.
“Sorry,” Jayce says again. Viktor wants to tell him not to apologize, but he can see that Jayce needs it right now, so he says nothing.
“But, no, I want to tell you. Remember what I told you about the mage that saved my mother and I when I was a child?” Viktor nods. It’s the story that inspired Jayce’s dream of controlling magic with science. He knows how important the events from back then are to Jayce, knows how close he and his mother were to death. It’s a lot for a child to go through, but Viktor wasn’t aware just how much the terror of that day still haunts Jayce now.
“Seeing my mother just drop like that, I really thought that was it.” He’s trembling and his eyes once again glaze over, but it’s with recollection and Jayce is still conscious and aware. “Even now, knowing that she lost her fingers to the cold… It’s a terrifying reminder of death’s reach, how we just barely escaped it. How, if that mage hadn’t shown up…” He chokes on a sob.
Viktor holds one hand out to him again, offering touch, stability. Jayce looks at it through unshed tears and Viktor almost expects him to reject the offer. But then Jayce places his own hand in Viktor’s, allowing the warmth to seep into him and remind him that he is safe.
Their fingers intertwine and Viktor once again rubs his thumb soothingly over Jayce’s skin, aware of how the other’s gaze follows the movement.
“Sometimes… Sometimes I wonder if maybe— If I deserved to be saved back then, or if…” he stops himself. Viktor’s heart drops under the weight of the confession. “Back when we met, too. When I… When you approached me. I’ve been saved twice, but I wonder if I have anything to show for it. Maybe the effort would have been better spent on someone else.”
Jayce pointedly keeps his eyes on their hands. He looks ashamed of what he’s saying, afraid to be judged for his feelings, but Viktor can tell he means it.
The fact that Jayce thinks it possible that Viktor would ever judge him for this hurts, but he knows not to take it personally. This is not about what Jayce thinks of Viktor, but what he thinks of himself.
He gives Jayce’s hand a gentle squeeze, then continues the slow caress of his thumb. “I don’t believe that. From the moment I met you, I could feel your passion, your intelligence. You dream of making the world a better place, spent your whole life working toward that goal without asking for anything in return. This city and its politics are corrupt, yet you cling to your dream and refuse to let them stain you. You are a wonderful person, Jayce, and you prove it to me every day.”
Jayce looks like he wants to protest, but Viktor lifts his other hand to cup them both around Jayce’s. “And even if you fail, if you never accomplish anything extraordinary, it is alright. Your life was saved, but you have no obligation to prove its worth. You were given another chance, what you use it for is up to you alone.”
Viktor means it, but he also understands that it’s not enough. He can relate to Jayce’s desire to make a difference, lasting change for the better. They both know they have the ability to do it. To waste this ability would leave them unfulfilled and they would carry the guilt of inaction. Jayce needs to hear that what he’s doing is meaningful.
“Besides, you are still actively following your dream. Claiming you have not achieved anything while your pursuit is still ongoing is hardly a fair assessment. I would argue you are closer than ever now, with Piltover’s elite backing you. Allowing you to move forward. I assure you that you deserve to be here.”
Jayce finally looks up to meet Viktor’s eyes, searching. Whatever it is he’s looking for, he must have found it.
Tears finally spill, rolling freely down Jayce’s cheeks. His face scrunches up in his pain and he leans forward until his forehead touches their hands. Viktor pulls one hand free, places it in Jayce’s hair instead and gently massages his scalp. Sobs finally shake Jayce’s body and the wet of tears is warm against Viktor’s hand. He closes his eyes as Jayce cries, allowing him a moment of privacy.
—
Things change between them after that. There is a new, deeper sense of understanding, a connection that wasn’t quite so intense before. Jayce answers more of Viktor’s questions about that state of disconnect he occasionally falls into. He explains that sometimes touch can be grounding, can help him focus on something that’s real and slowly help him come back to himself. Other times, touch can feel like a weight too heavy on his skin, burning away at him and demanding attention he can’t afford to spare when merely existing feels like a chore.
He gives Viktor permission to test what works in the moment, trusts that he can read Jayce well enough to determine when to get closer and when to back off. It’s a level of trust he hasn’t shown to anyone but his mother. And even she doesn’t get to see Jayce’s lowest moments as he fears it would break her heart. He doesn’t want to burden her with this.
He’s tried to insist that Viktor doesn’t need to stay with him when things get bad again, but Viktor wasn’t having any of it. His devotion was so strong, so genuine, that Jayce gave up when he realized Viktor wasn’t going to change his mind.
He doesn’t quite know how to express it, but he’s eternally grateful for Viktor’s presence.
Which is why, when the council demands he attend another one of their annual fancy parties, he begs Viktor to join him.
Jayce knows his partner despises such settings, mingling with the richest of the rich, trying to charm them as they look at him like he’s a pet that has just done something mildly amusing and silly. Viktor hates it, but so does Jayce and he would have a much better time if he didn’t have to go alone again.
Of course he’s asked Viktor before, just like he’s found himself imagining his partner were there, laughing at the pretentious crowd’s idea of fashion, at how easy to embarrass those people are when someone richer than them leaves a scratch on their fragile egos. But every time he’s allowed himself a moment to miss Viktor, another potential investor would snap him out of it and demand his full attention.
It’s a miserable experience.
Luck seems to be on his side this time, though. He’s been pestering Viktor about it for weeks, switching between begging and pampering him whenever the chance arose. He’s sure Viktor knows why Jayce is buttering him up. To assume otherwise would be an insult to his intelligence. And yet, for the first time ever, it actually seems to be working.
Whenever Jayce brings up the event, Viktor comes up with hypotheticals about the types of people he expects to see there and how they would act, clearly imagining himself observing such behaviors and reacting to them.
Jayce won’t allow himself to celebrate too soon, but as the day of the party draws near he asks once more, outright, if Viktor will join him. His partner makes a show of slumping forward in his seat with a big sigh, arms hanging limp at his sides like he’s deflated. Viktor says nothing for a moment but Jayce won’t speak first, worried it might give Viktor the opportunity to decline after all.
Finally, after a stretch of silence, Viktor turns his head from where it’s resting on his desk, looks at Jayce through heavy lids. “Fine, just this once,” he says and joy fills Jayce with so much energy that he can’t help but throw his arms in the air in celebration.
“We’ll get the boring part over with and then make our own fun, alright? I hear they got some pretty high quality Noxian wine,” Jayce grins, hoping to make the temptation sound attractive. Viktor seems unimpressed.
“I don’t like to drink,” he says, deadpan. Jayce will have to find something else then.
By the time they’re at the event, however, Viktor’s attitude seems to have changed. They’ve been there for two hours and Viktor is about five glasses deep on the Noxian wine. They’ve both talked to some people, answered questions, laughed at unfunny jokes and, at least on Jayce’s part, handed out empty compliments.
Viktor’s presence seems to have been so intriguing to those people that they swarmed him like flies, to his dismay. Jayce tried to listen in on their conversations, but was quickly entangled in his own. He’ll have to ask about it later, he thinks as he mentally sends out a Good luck to his partner.
Now, two hours and several glasses of alcohol later, they reconvene on the otherwise empty balcony. Viktor seems to be doing well enough, save for the obvious exhaustion in his posture. He leans heavily on his cane and Jayce is quick to lead him to one of the neat stone benches on the balcony. They sit for a bit, enjoying the cool breeze that airs out the stuffiness that surrounded them in the main hall.
Jayce twirls his half-empty glass absentmindedly. “So, how’d it go?” he asks casually. In an almost immediate response, he feels a gentle weight on his shoulder and the puff of a tired exhale against his neck. He looks down to see Viktor leaning against him, eyes closed and brows furrowed.
"Horrible. I wish I hadn’t come,” he pouts. Jayce feels a little guilty that he practically pressured Viktor into joining him. He’s about to apologize when his partner speaks up again. “You promised we’d make our own fun, but so far the wine has proven to be much more efficient in distracting me. I even secured us at least three contacts, four if I did not misinterpret Miss Tahan’s looks.
The mental image his words invoke bothers Jayce, but he can’t quite put his finger on why. The thought of some rich woman sending looks toward Viktor, laughing louder than necessary at his jokes, holding some impure intent. Viktor’s head shifts on his shoulder as he tries to scan Jayce’s face. “Oh, good. I feared you may have fallen asleep on me.”
Jayce shakes his head, then rests his cheek against the soft of Viktor’s hair. “Just surprised you didn’t kill anyone. I was prepared for the worst,” he jokes and is promptly rewarded with another puff of air, this time in clear amusement.
“I’ll have you know that self-control is not among the things I lack. Physical violence plays out exclusively in my mind. Besides,” his voice softens, “I wouldn’t want to disappoint you.”
The words leave Jayce so utterly speechless, he can’t tell how serious Viktor is. He tries to read his expression, but Viktor’s eyes have already slipped shut again. From this angle Jayce can see the slight flush of red in Viktor’s cheeks and wonders why he doesn’t want it to be because of the alcohol.
“You could never disappoint me,” Jayce confesses with honesty even he didn’t expect. He hopes it’s not too much.
Viktor leaves the words hanging between them. “These people would do well to fix their rotten attitudes,” he huffs. “As soon as they found out I’m from the undercity a good amount of them started treating me differently.”
Jayce’s head snaps up, which earns him a disapproving grunt. “What happened? Did they do anything to insult you?” he asks, already looking through the open door of the balcony and into the main hall, like he could somehow spot exactly who mistreated his partner.
Viktor chuckles, but there’s no humor in it. He taps a finger against the side of Jayce’s chin as if urging him to focus on him again.
“Nothing I haven’t heard before. They hide their disdain exceptionally well, all things considered. I just learned how to read between the lines of their fancy words. An insult in a pretty package with a little bow on it is still an insult, after all.”
Jayce says nothing, tries to come up with a good response that doesn’t involve threats of physical violence that would happen very much outside of his head. Viktor seems to notice as he’s once again looking up at him.
“Don’t waste your energy getting angry at people like them. If you’d like to cheer me up you can start by sharing your next drink with me.”
Jayce meets Viktor’s eyes and some of the anger drains out of him. He’d rather not ruin the mood. A grin pulls at his lips and he raises an eyebrow. “I thought you said you don’t like to drink?” He knows what Viktor will say before the words leave his mouth.
“I much prefer it over the thought of attending the entirety of this event sober.”
It’s the first time they get drunk together and it’s exactly how Jayce had imagined it in the past, when he’d longed for Viktor’s presence at parties.
—
It’s the first time they get drunk together, and Viktor assures him it will most definitely be the last.
They stumble into Viktor’s small apartment, tired and dizzy from the alcohol and socializing. Jayce had noticed Viktor’s unsteady steps as he considered retiring for the night and offered to walk him home. The walk back felt considerably longer than it should have and Jayce suspects that it may be related to the additional steps they had to take whenever they lost balance and nearly tripped.
It must be well past midnight when they finally make it to Viktor’s place.
Jayce has one arm wrapped around Viktor’s waist to stabilize him. The moment at the event when he saw Viktor’s cane slip out from under his hand’s shaky grip scared him enough to promptly offer his support. His partner was hesitant to accept at first, studying Jayce like he was trying to figure out the motivation behind the offer, but he gave in not long after. He must have realized that, with the amount of alcohol in his system, he was in no state to be walking all the way back by himself. Especially with how much the world was spinning around him.
Neither of them says anything as they clumsily make their way into the main room, too busy trying to resist the pull of gravity that threatens to yank them to the ground. Jayce lifts his head enough to scan for any indication of where the bedroom is and Viktor hums in protest every time the staggering jostles him too much. He doesn’t seem to notice Jayce struggling to navigate the place, too busy trying to fall asleep despite the bothersome movement.
It occurs to Jayce that it may be a little strange that after months of working together, this is the first time he’s seen Viktor’s apartment. He makes a mental note to bring it up some other time so he can casually ask to visit more often.
Luckily, Viktor’s apartment is fairly small, so there aren’t many rooms to get lost in. Jayce spots two doors in the wall furthest away from the main entrance. One of them is shut, the other open just enough for him to see what he assumes must be a bed. He readjusts his grip on Viktor’s waist and stumbles in the direction of the open door.
It is the bedroom. He all but throws himself onto the end of the bed, careful to keep his weight off of his partner. Jayce sighs with relief and finally stops fighting his eyelids to stay open. Now that he’s letting himself relax he becomes aware of just how tired his body is, legs tingling and shoulders stiff from holding another person’s weight up on top of his own. Beside him, Viktor stirs.
“Jayce? When did we…?” He sounds confused. The temptation of seeing what expression Viktor wears is almost strong enough for Jayce to open his eyes again so he can properly take it in. Almost. He’s too exhausted.
“Just got here. Sorry to intrude,” Jayce slurs tiredly. “Gimme a few minutes, I’ll go home soon.” He’s suddenly aware that Viktor may not have invited him here before for a reason, but his mind is too foggy to overthink it. He’ll have to apologize properly when he’s in full control of his brain again.
Viktor saves him the trouble. "Nonsense. Just stay the night,” he yawns. “You’re drunk too. ‘s cold.” Now Jayce does crack one eye open, looks over to check for any sign that Viktor is just being polite, but the other seems to be falling asleep.
Jayce says nothing, silently accepting. They stay like that for a bit, breathing evenly with their sides pressed together. Now that they’re not moving Jayce can feel a chill of cold air graze his skin through his shirt. Viktor will catch a cold, he thinks.
Jayce stretches his legs, then gathers all his strength to sit up. He turns to Viktor, who still has his eyes closed, and places a gentle hand on his partner’s shoulder, tracing it down to where it meets the soft fabric of the sheets.
“C’mere,” he mumbles as he carefully lifts Viktor’s upper body. The other groans, eyebrows furrowed, but makes no move to help or protest any further. Jayce hooks his other hand under Viktor’s knees and lifts him up with ease. The cane falls from Viktor’s loose grip, clatters to the floor, abandoned. Neither of them react to the sound.
“You’re lucky you’re the one falling asleep. I’d be too heavy for you,” Jayce jokes but doesn’t wait for a response as he stumbles around the bed and carefully sets Viktor down so he can sleep comfortably. Jayce tugs the blanket out from under Viktor’s legs and gets into bed beside him before covering them both with the soft fabric. He wouldn’t usually be so bold, but right now he acts impulsively, doesn’t even think about how intimate this is. It’s their first time sharing a bed like this.
He yawns, ready to finally sleep when Viktor shifts once more, throwing an arm over Jayce’s stomach and pressing his face into the side of his neck. “Thank you,” Viktor mutters, then exhales softly. It fills Jayce with such warmth, such comfort that he falls asleep before he can process it.
—
They’re in the lab, engaged in a conversation about nostalgic foods from their childhoods. The light that shines in from the outside has dimmed over the course of hours as the day comes to an end. Their work is long forgotten as neither of them has the capacity to get anything done anymore.
Viktor's eyes are wide with the excitement of recollection, a smile at his lips as he passionately shares fond memories with Jayce. He talks with his hands, uses gestures to paint a more vivid picture to go along with what he’s saying. It’s endearing. Jayce could listen to Viktor talk all day without ever getting bored.
There’s so much to see, so much to learn in the way Viktor expresses himself, in the little twitches of his lips, the widening and narrowing of his eyes to go along with the mood of the story he’s telling, the raise of his eyebrows.
His voice, too, carries so much of Viktor’s true self. He sometimes raises it when his stories get particularly exciting, but he never shouts, always keeps it soft. When Jayce lets him talk uninterrupted until Viktor gets lost in his own story, his accent will sometimes get thicker and he will slip words into his sentences that Jayce doesn’t know. Over time Jayce starts to learn the meaning of some of these words, yet another part of Viktor he can keep close to his heart.
Not many people are ever granted the opportunity to see him like this, and Jayce treasures every moment he gets to spend this way, experiencing these sides of Viktor.
“—she always added these herbs to it, that is how I always knew it. I never even questioned it, even though the herbs contrasted the rest of the dish so strongly. Tasted sour but sweet, like eh—” Viktor looks off to the side, waving his hand around like he’s searching for a word. He snaps his fingers a few times, squints his eyes like he’s willing himself to find the word he’s looking for, then his face relaxes as he seemingly gives up. “Whatever, no good comparison. It just tasted odd.”
Jayce becomes gradually more aware of how much his cheeks hurt. He hadn’t even realized he was smiling, but he must have been doing it for quite a while. Viktor doesn’t seem to mind.
“I trusted she knew what she was doing, so I ate it like that without complaint for twenty years. Until I came to Piltover and saw it on the menu of one of those modest little restaurants near the bridge. You cannot begin to imagine how groundbreaking the difference was. It just—” he snaps his fingers “clicked! The herbs are quite common in the undercity, a valuable source of nutrition. I figure that is why she used them for the dish. Still, to have it be so…” Viktor’s voice trails off.
Jayce nods in understanding. He gives Viktor another moment to continue his story, but he seems to have finished, now looking off to the side again like he’s deep in thought.
“Must have been amazing to taste it prepared the proper way,” Jayce says, and Viktor’s expression softens around a fond smile as he shakes his head.
“I actually liked it better the way my mother made it. The herbs are still off-putting, but without them the dish is missing something. It tastes incomplete and is not very filling. Though I suppose that must be the nostalgia speaking.” His eyes carry the far-away look a moment longer before they clear up again and his focus shifts back to Jayce. “Not that I am unwilling to give new flavors a chance,” Viktor lilts, and something about the way he says it brings a tingle into Jayce’s chest.
He doesn’t want to lose the moment, so he lets his mouth take the lead.
“Then how about I give you a recommendation? Remember the café near that book shop we visited a few months ago? The one with the top hat in the logo? They recently added a new seasonal coffee to their menu. It’s in its trial phase.” He suddenly feels self-conscious, hopes this doesn’t come off as weird. “I tried it last week and thought you might like it. We should go together.” Jayce is proud of how casual he made it sound.
Viktor stares at him, a spark of something in his gaze, then he smiles, wide and genuine. “That sounds like a wonderful idea. Let us finish the last few pages of the report on the prototype first, then we can go without distraction. If we stay diligent we can have it done by the weekend.” And Jayce can only nod, filled with a newfound sense of determination.
It pays off in the end and they make it in time to afford the luxury of taking an afternoon off to visit the café.
They stop by Viktor’s apartment first so he can change into something lighter as the sun has begun to warm the air around midday. Jayce removes the light jacket he wore in the morning and leaves it at the apartment. He can pick it up later. As they walk to the café together, they chat some more about the next steps for their project. It’s their free time, but they both prefer to plan ahead when they get the chance. The conversation isn’t any less pleasant than their more personal ones, flowing smoothly as they understand each other seamlessly. By the time they make it to their destination they’ve come up with a general roadmap, a simplified overview of upcoming tasks.
As they approach the café, Jayce speeds up the last few steps so he can hold the door for Viktor. The other gives him a nod in thanks as he walks in. Viktor doesn’t wait for Jayce to follow as he makes a beeline to the back of the room.
He stops at a small table, tucked comfortably into a corner that is decorated with plastic vines hanging on the wall. The table is far enough from the rest of the room to allow them a bit of privacy, even though there aren’t many other people here to begin with.
Jayce goes to order, and by the time Viktor raises his drink to his lips, Jayce is all nerves again. It’s just Viktor, he reminds himself, trying to relax. That’s right, it’s Viktor, another part of his brain cuts in. He doesn’t want to disappoint Viktor.
He waits with bated breath as his partner closes his eyes and takes a slow sip. The rise of steam from the coffee curls gently around Viktor’s face, his cheeks faintly flushed from the warmth. The way the skin underneath the mole high on Viktor’s cheek colors fills Jayce’s heart with adoration. From this perspective, Jayce can see that Viktor’s eyelashes are actually quite long. He never really had the chance to stare uninterrupted for so long before, but now he allows himself to take his partner in properly.
Viktor looks so utterly radiant. His hair falls messily in his face the way it usually does, but there is a tidiness to it that Jayce could have sworn wasn’t there this morning. The difference is not immediately apparent, but it shows more effort than Viktor is usually bothered with. Jayce thinks he must have tried to clean up his appearance back when they stopped at his apartment and he disappeared into the bathroom for a few minutes. Jayce wills himself not to think about the implication of it too much, doesn’t want to let himself get excited over nothing.
Viktor opens his eyes slowly, lowers his cup to look down at it and Jayce hurriedly averts his gaze so as to not get caught staring. He can’t help but peek anyway to see his partner’s reaction.
Viktor’s face doesn’t give much away, even with the faint quirk of his lip. He meets Jayce’s eyes and sets the beverage down and Jayce leans forward in his seat in anticipation.
“This is good. It seems your idea of what I would like is quite accurate, I’m impressed,” Viktor says as his smile widens. The tension leaves Jayce’s body and he leans back in his seat, relieved that Viktor is not disappointed with his suggestion.
Jayce nods with a satisfied grin. “The floral note is what caught my interest first, and then there was that sweetness in the aftertaste and I just knew it would be right up your alley,” he explains. Viktor hums and tilts his head to the side as he studies his drink again. He places a fingertip on the handle of the cup and draws small circles on it. Jayce follows the movement and swallows.
“But I must say, I’m surprised you enjoy it so much. This does not seem like the type of flavor you would usually appreciate,” Viktor muses, casts a quick glance to Jayce’s own drink and then meets his eyes again.
Jayce can’t help the fond smile that pulls at his lips. “Seems like you know my taste pretty well too. You’re right, I ordered something else for myself. It’s not that I don’t like the seasonal coffee, I just prefer something more…” he trails off, searching for the right word. Viktor nods.
“I understand. I was curious to check for myself what flavor had you so impressed that you recommended it to me with such enthusiasm. I see now that your motivation was not to have it for yourself again, but to introduce it to me.” He seems touched. Jayce frowns.
“Of course, did I not mention that before? I just wanted you to have something I knew you’d enjoy.”
Viktor’s hand drops from his cup. Jayce can tell that he’s happy, but there is a hint of sadness in his expression, a heartache that fits so easily into place that it must have been left to fester for a long time. Viktor looks conflicted.
“You implied it, yes. But… no one has ever treated me so thoughtfully before. I was hesitant to interpret it that way,” he admits and it all seems so unfair to Jayce. He’s familiar with Viktor’s past, has heard enough stories to have an idea of how hard it must have been for him, both in the undercity and in Piltover. But in moments like this, seeing the results of how mistreated, how neglected Viktor has been all his life makes him so angry at the world.
Making a recommendation based on what Viktor likes is an act so small, so natural that Jayce would have never thought to mention it. Of course he would pay attention to Viktor’s feelings. Why wouldn’t he?
Jayce resists the urge to reach across the table and place his hand on Viktor’s. What he feels is not pity and he doesn’t want Viktor to consider it that.
“I’m glad we talked about it, then. That’s exactly how it should be interpreted,” he says instead. “And I hope you’ll continue to ask what my intentions are when you aren’t sure, I’d hate for there to be misunderstandings between us.” Viktor lowers his head and for a moment Jayce worries he might cry, but he can see the grateful smile on his partner's face. Their eyes meet again in quiet understanding, bright and warm.
“In that case, you can expect many more questions in the future. You are quite difficult to figure out, after all,” Viktor jokes, but Jayce knows he means it. There is a spark of amusement in his eyes that blends in perfectly with something akin to sheer affection and wonder. Jayce’s heart beats loudly in his chest.
As Viktor picks his drink back up and takes another sip, slow and deliberate like he’s seeking out the taste of Jayce’s adoration in it, Jayce is overcome with the realization that he loves Viktor. The feeling is warm, comforting and it doesn’t come as a surprise. He thinks that maybe a part of him has always loved Viktor.
“I believe I’m pretty forward with my actions, actually.”
—
Jayce walks Viktor home again. It’s strange to think that earlier this same day, he didn’t realize just how deep his feelings for the other ran, yet he feels no different than before. It confirms that the only thing that changed is his awareness of it.
He drops Viktor off in front of his apartment building, reluctant to leave, but he doesn’t want to overstay his welcome. The indecisiveness must radiate off of him because Viktor stops walking and turns to look back at him, waiting.
“Your jacket?” he says, and Jayce thanks his past self for leaving it behind as he starts following Viktor in again.
They enter the apartment and Viktor leads him to a small, worn-out couch. He waves a hand in its direction, gesturing for Jayce to sit. “Would you like something to drink? Although I’m afraid water is all I can offer you.” Jayce accepts, anything to prolong this, and watches as Viktor makes his way to the little kitchen area that connects to the main room.
He can’t tear his eyes away from his partner’s form, watching as the other gets two glasses from a cabinet, then opens the fridge for a cold bottle of water. There is nothing special about the action, nothing out of the ordinary, but Jayce feels the weight of intimacy surrounding them. He wonders if Viktor feels it too, hopes that it’s not just him. The entire day is surreal to him. He still sees Viktor the same way he did before, but it’s all so much clearer now, like a veil has been lifted that he never even knew was there, blurring his view. Jayce has never felt like this before.
Viktor has their drinks ready and goes to pick up one of the glasses, his other hand occupied with his cane. Jayce swiftly moves to help, taking the other glass and bringing it back to the couch. They sit and Jayce feels an overwhelming need to express just how much he loves spending time together like this. He thinks of how to start without making it sound odd, but Viktor beats him to it.
“About today, I’m… glad we did this. I hadn’t realized how much energy the project has cost me. Both of us. Taking time off was much needed. I really enjoyed myself. Thank you for suggesting this, Jayce.” His voice is soft and quiet. Jayce shifts his body to properly face him.
“That’s a relief. I wasn’t sure if you felt the same. I didn’t want it to feel like the time could have been better spent working…”
Viktor shakes his head, leans closer with urgency. “Not at all! In fact, I was thinking maybe we could, you know… do this more often? Breaks are important, after all. Overworking ourselves would be no good.” They both know that Viktor tends to disregard his health when he gets too lost in his work. Jayce does too, but it’s odd to hear it from Viktor’s mouth especially. It’s like he’s using it as an excuse, so Jayce won’t call him out on it.
“I’d love to make this a regular thing,” he says instead, leaning closer in his enthusiasm. Viktor looks at him then, an expression Jayce has never seen on his partner’s face before. His eyes soften and drop lower on Jayce’s face, so quick that Jayce would have believed it was just his imagination if he wasn’t so close to witness it.
By the time he’s processed what he saw Viktor’s gaze meets his again, lips parted slightly.
“Jayce… you told me to ask if I was unsure of your intentions.” The world around them slows to a stop and Jayce can’t hear, can’t see anything but Viktor right in front of him, leaning in closer as he glances at Jayce’s mouth again. He doesn’t look back up this time.
Jayce finds himself moving closer too, almost subconscious like Viktor’s presence is physically pulling him in. He swallows.
“I did say that,” he rasps. Viktor lifts one hand to Jayce’s cheek, hesitant but determined, caressing the skin with his thumb.
“Please correct me if I misunderstood,” Viktor breathes, voice barely above a whisper and then he’s leaning in again and his eyes fall shut as he presses his lips to Jayce’s.
The kiss is tender, careful and unsure. There’s fragility in the way Viktor’s lips tremble, like he’s terrified everything will fall apart because of him, and Jayce is overcome with such raw adoration that it blurs his vision.
His eyes sting with unshed warmth, so he lets them slip shut, allowing the tears to fall. Viktor must notice because he pulls away looking horrified while Jayce is left in a haze of confusion at the sudden loss of contact. He looks at Viktor’s lips, glistening faintly with saliva, and longs for another taste.
Viktor lets out a shaky exhale. “I’m sorry, I thought you—” he shakes his head and hastily drops his hand from Jayce’s cheek. Jayce catches it instinctively.
“No, you’re right. You didn’t misunderstand, this… I’ve wanted this so bad, V.” He wipes at his face with his free hand, tries to get rid of the tears so Viktor won’t think he did something wrong. That this was a mistake. Jayce squeezes Viktor’s hand gently, brings it to his lips and presses a trail of kisses against the fingers.
“Viktor, I really—” Viktor lowers their hands, brings his other hand to the back of Jayce’s neck and pulls him into another kiss.
This one is anything but uncertain, filled instead with newfound need, a hunger made stronger by a small taste of the very thing that can satiate it. Viktor tilts his head to get a better angle and runs his tongue over Jayce’s lower lip. It’s so sudden, so unrestrained that Jayce almost groans at how good it feels. He parts his lips and Viktor wastes no time to lick into his mouth.
The hand at the back of Jayce’s neck switches between slowly massaging and dragging nails over his skin until he feels like he’ll go crazy.
Jayce intertwines the fingers of their still connected hands as he licks along the underside of Viktor’s tongue. It earns him a pleased hum and he wants to hear more of it, wants Viktor to feel good, but he pushes the thought to the back of his mind for now. He doesn’t want to rush this.
They pull apart with a soft smack of lips, moving back just enough to press their foreheads together. Jayce keeps his eyes closed for another moment, holding on to the sensation, the taste of Viktor in his mouth. When he opens them, he sees Viktor already looking at him, gaze bright with what he knows to be the same feeling that courses through his own heart. It flows between them, a connection so strong it’s like they were always meant to end up like this.
Viktor is the first to speak.
“I hope we can agree to do this again as well,” he says, voice raspy and filled with warmth. Jayce laughs, gives Viktor’s hand another squeeze.
“Of course. With you, I would happily do this forever.”