Archive of Our Own

The first time it happened, Viktor dismissed it as a fluke. Jayce had always been expressive, his enthusiasm bursting forth like a dam ready to crack under pressure. The two of them had been huddled over the Hexcore for hours, diagrams strewn about the lab, their notes hastily scribbled in chalk on the blackboard. Viktor’s leg ached, as it always did after prolonged hours of standing, but he ignored it, too focused on the way the Hexcore thrummed with unspent energy.

'If we adjust the harmonic regulator,' Viktor began, tracing his gloved finger over the schematics, 'the output would stabilize. It could handle—'

'Twice the load, yeah!' Jayce interrupted, finishing Viktor’s thought with a grin that practically lit up the dim lab. He clapped Viktor on the shoulder, his hand lingering just long enough to feel warm through the layers of fabric.

'You’re brilliant, sunshine. How do you even think of these things?' Jayce’s tone was light, teasing, but there was a genuine admiration beneath it.

Viktor blinked at him, momentarily caught off guard. He opened his mouth to respond, only to close it again. Sunshine? Of all the things Viktor might have been called in his life, 'sunshine' was not one of them. The word itself felt foreign, an odd juxtaposition against the cold steel and flickering lamplight of their shared workspace. He ducked his head, hoping Jayce wouldn’t notice the faint flush creeping up his neck.

'Just… basic physics,' he murmured, his accent thickening slightly in his flustered state. But Jayce’s grin only widened, his hand finally dropping away as he turned back to the Hexcore with the same boundless energy he brought to everything.

For a moment, Viktor’s gaze lingered on Jayce—the way his broad shoulders hunched slightly as he bent over the device, the way his dark hair caught the faint glow of the core. It was a fleeting thought, one Viktor pushed aside almost as quickly as it surfaced. He returned to his own work, the faint warmth in his chest persisting long after Jayce’s words faded into the hum of the Hexcore.

As the hours ticked by, Viktor tried to convince himself it was nothing. Jayce was friendly with everyone. It was part of his charm, part of what made him so well-liked by their peers and so infuriatingly distracting to Viktor. He spoke to Viktor the same way he spoke to council members, merchants, or curious onlookers at their demonstrations—with a kind of openness and warmth that seemed entirely unguarded. Viktor had no reason to believe that 'sunshine' meant anything more than a fleeting term of endearment, a placeholder for whatever Jayce might have called someone else in his place.

But as the night wore on and the lab quieted, Viktor’s mind wandered despite himself. He thought about the way Jayce’s hand had lingered, the genuine admiration in his voice. The memory of it made Viktor’s chest tighten, a strange and unfamiliar sensation he wasn’t sure how to process. For years, he had thrown himself into his work, finding solace and purpose in the precise, predictable nature of science. Feelings—especially ones as nebulous and distracting as this—had no place in the careful balance he had cultivated.

And yet, when Viktor finally packed up his notes for the night and limped back to his quarters, the word lingered. Sunshine. It echoed in his mind, soft and teasing, accompanied by the image of Jayce’s smile. Viktor shook his head, irritated with himself. He needed to focus. There was too much at stake for him to allow his thoughts to wander so aimlessly.

Even so, as he lay in bed staring at the ceiling, Viktor couldn’t quite shake the faint warmth that refused to fade. The word had been simple, casual, and yet it had burrowed its way into a part of him he hadn’t even realized was vulnerable. He wondered if Jayce had any idea of the effect his words could have—or if, like so many things about him, it had been entirely effortless.

The next morning, Viktor resolved to put it out of his mind. He arrived at the lab early, as always, determined to immerse himself in the work. The Hexcore demanded his full attention, and Viktor was more than willing to give it. By the time Jayce arrived, bounding into the lab with his usual energy, Viktor was already deeply engrossed in his calculations.

'Morning, Viktor!' Jayce called, setting a cup of coffee on the edge of Viktor’s desk. Viktor glanced up briefly, offering a curt nod in acknowledgment before returning to his notes.

'You’re here early,' Jayce remarked, leaning against the workbench. 'Not that I’m surprised. Do you even sleep?'

'When it is necessary,' Viktor replied, his tone clipped. He didn’t mean to be curt, but he couldn’t shake the lingering awkwardness from the previous night. Jayce, of course, didn’t seem to notice.

'Well, try not to work yourself to death,' Jayce said with a laugh. 'I need you in one piece, sunshine.'

Viktor’s hand froze mid-sentence, his pencil hovering just above the page. He glanced up at Jayce, who was already moving toward the Hexcore, completely oblivious to the effect his words had. Viktor exhaled slowly, forcing himself to relax. It was nothing. Just another offhand comment. Nothing worth dwelling on.

And yet, as the day went on, Viktor found himself acutely aware of Jayce’s presence. The way he moved through the lab, his gestures animated and expressive. The way his voice carried, filling the space with an infectious energy that made even the most tedious tasks feel lighter. Viktor’s irritation at his own distraction grew, but no matter how hard he tried to focus, the memory of Jayce’s words lingered, a quiet refrain at the back of his mind.

Sunshine. It was absurd, really. Viktor had spent his entire life in pursuit of knowledge, driven by logic and reason. He had no time for sentimentality, no patience for the kind of emotional entanglements that seemed to come so easily to others. And yet, Jayce had a way of slipping past all of Viktor’s carefully constructed defenses, leaving him feeling exposed and uncertain in ways he couldn’t quite explain.

By the time they wrapped up for the evening, Viktor was thoroughly exhausted—both from the work itself and from the mental effort of keeping his thoughts in check. As he gathered his things, Jayce clapped him on the shoulder again, his grin as bright as ever.

'Good work today, Viktor,' he said. 'Get some rest, okay? You’ve earned it.'

Viktor nodded, his throat too tight to respond. As he watched Jayce leave, the faint warmth in his chest returned, stronger this time. For all his efforts to dismiss it, Viktor couldn’t deny the way it made him feel—the way Jayce’s words, simple and unassuming, seemed to reach a part of him he’d long thought dormant.

Perhaps it was nothing. Perhaps it was everything. Viktor didn’t know. But as he left the lab and stepped into the quiet night, he found himself holding onto that warmth, letting it guide him through the darkness.

The second time was easier to brush aside. It came after the Hexgate demonstration, the culmination of years of work and sleepless nights. The applause of the crowd still rang in Viktor’s ears, a distant hum compared to the pounding of his own heart. He’d never liked being the center of attention, and standing beside Jayce on that stage had felt… surreal.

Back in the lab, Viktor found solace in the familiar hum of machinery. He sat at his workbench, his hands methodically sorting through tools as if grounding himself in routine. The buzz of excitement from the demonstration still hung in the air, though Viktor was eager to escape the lingering traces of the public spotlight.

Jayce entered the lab not long after, his movements lively but carrying a hint of exhaustion that Viktor recognized all too well. His coat was slung casually over one arm, his tie loosened, and his hair slightly tousled from the day’s events. In his other hand, he carried a bottle of champagne, the gold foil glinting under the fluorescent lights.

'A toast!' Jayce announced, grinning as he popped the cork with an exuberant flourish. Viktor winced slightly at the noise but accepted the glass Jayce handed him. The champagne fizzed gently, bubbles rising to the surface like scattered thoughts in Viktor’s mind.

'To us,' Jayce said, raising his glass. His voice carried a warmth that made the otherwise empty lab feel almost cozy. 'We did it, Viktor. Hexgates are going to change the world.'

'We will see,' Viktor replied, his tone measured. He swirled the champagne in his glass, watching the light catch on the liquid. 'Innovation often comes with… unexpected consequences.'

Jayce laughed, a warm, rich sound that filled the room. 'Always the pragmatist,' he teased, though there was no malice in his tone. 'But seriously, I couldn’t have done this without you.'

Viktor looked away, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of his cane. 'It was… a joint effort. You are too kind.'

Jayce set his glass down on the counter, turning to face Viktor fully. His expression softened, the usual playfulness giving way to sincerity. 'Nice work, partner,' he said, clapping Viktor on the back.

The word lingered in the air, carrying more weight than its simplicity suggested. Partner. It was a term Viktor had heard before, of course, but the way Jayce said it made it feel like something more. Like a promise. Like an acknowledgment of something deeper than collaboration.

Viktor’s grip on his cane tightened, the weight of the moment settling in his chest. He glanced at Jayce, whose grin had returned, bright and unrestrained. For a moment, Viktor allowed himself to absorb the warmth in Jayce’s tone, the unspoken trust it conveyed.

'Thank you,' Viktor murmured, his voice barely audible over the hum of the lab equipment.

Jayce’s grin widened, and he reached for his glass again, raising it in another silent toast. Viktor hesitated before following suit, their glasses clinking softly in the quiet of the lab.

As the moment passed, Jayce’s attention shifted to one of the schematics pinned to the board, his excitement reigniting as he pointed out potential adjustments to their designs. Viktor watched him, the champagne untouched in his hand, the faint echo of Jayce’s words lingering in his mind.

Nice work, partner. Viktor repeated the phrase silently, the corners of his mouth twitching into a small smile. The day had been long, exhausting even, but for the first time in a while, he felt a glimmer of something else—something he couldn’t quite name. Perhaps it was hope, or perhaps it was simply the faint warmth of Jayce’s unwavering confidence in him.

Whatever it was, Viktor didn’t push it away. He let it settle in his chest, a quiet comfort amidst the chaos of invention and ambition.

It was late, the kind of late where even the city’s restless energy seemed to quiet. Viktor sat hunched over his desk, his eyes scanning page after page of calculations. His head throbbed with the dull ache of exhaustion, but he ignored it, the sharp scratching of his pencil against paper a steady rhythm that seemed to tether him to focus. The light from his desk lamp cast long shadows across the lab, highlighting the faint smudges of chalk and oil on his sleeves.

The Hexcore stood at the center of the room, its faint glow a reminder of their shared purpose. Despite its potential, it still resisted perfection, the numbers refusing to align in the flawless symphony Viktor envisioned. He rubbed at his temple, the ache spreading through his skull like an unwelcome guest, but even pain couldn’t compel him to stop. There was too much to do, too many variables to account for.

'Viktor, it’s two in the morning.'

The familiar voice broke through the oppressive silence, startling him enough that his pencil skidded across the page, leaving a dark, errant line among precise calculations. He looked up to see Jayce leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed and a tired but amused expression on his face. He looked disheveled, his hair slightly mussed as though he’d run his hands through it one too many times, but there was an easy confidence in his posture that Viktor envied.

'You’ve got to take a break,' Jayce said, his tone light but laced with concern.

'There is still much to do,' Viktor replied, his voice quieter than he intended. He gestured vaguely toward the mountain of notes on his desk. 'The harmonic stability—'

Jayce was already shaking his head as he crossed the room, cutting Viktor off with a decisive motion. 'The harmonic stability can wait,' he said firmly, plucking the pencil from Viktor’s hand before Viktor could protest. 'You’re going to burn out if you keep this up.'

Viktor stiffened at the interruption, his first instinct to argue. His gaze flickered toward the Hexcore, the equations swirling in his mind like a storm he couldn’t control. 'There is no time for rest. The data—'

'—will still be here tomorrow,' Jayce finished, crouching slightly to meet Viktor’s gaze. His brown eyes were warm, the kind of warmth that made Viktor’s chest tighten uncomfortably. 'You’ve been pushing yourself too hard, my dear.'

The endearment, spoken with such casual affection, made Viktor falter. His mind caught on it like a splinter, the word lingering in the space between them. Jayce’s tone wasn’t mocking or condescending, but kind—a stark contrast to the harsh criticisms Viktor had grown accustomed to over the years. The weight of it made Viktor’s pulse quicken, though he quickly masked his reaction by straightening his posture.

'I do not require your concern,' Viktor said, his voice sharper than he intended. He regretted it almost immediately when Jayce’s expression softened further instead of hardening.

'I know you don’t,' Jayce replied, his hand brushing Viktor’s shoulder with a familiarity that felt both comforting and disconcerting. 'But you’ve got it anyway.'

Before Viktor could formulate a response, Jayce stepped back and gestured toward the worn couch tucked in the corner of the lab. 'Come on. Five minutes. Just sit down for a bit.'

Reluctantly, Viktor allowed himself to be guided away from his desk, his resistance more symbolic than genuine. He settled onto the couch, his cane resting against the armrest. The cushions were firm, the fabric slightly scratchy, but it was a welcome change from the unforgiving metal stool he’d been perched on for hours.

Jayce disappeared for a moment, returning with a blanket he’d retrieved from somewhere in the lab. He draped it over Viktor’s shoulders without ceremony, the weight and warmth of it settling around him like a protective barrier. Viktor stared at him, bewildered by the gesture.

'You’ll thank me later,' Jayce said, his grin returning as he stepped back, hands on his hips like he’d just accomplished something monumental.

The warmth of the blanket, combined with the faint scent of machine oil and ozone that clung to it, was oddly grounding. Viktor’s initial instinct to push it off faded as his body began to relax against his will. He leaned back into the couch, his head resting against the worn fabric, and closed his eyes for a moment longer than necessary.

Jayce lingered by the desk, flipping through the stack of notes Viktor had left behind. He hummed softly under his breath, a melody that Viktor couldn’t place but found strangely soothing. The rhythmic tapping of his fingers against the desk punctuated the quiet, a steady counterpoint to the muffled hum of the Hexcore.

'Why do you care so much?' Viktor asked suddenly, his voice low. The words slipped out before he could stop them, driven by a mix of curiosity and something he couldn’t name.

Jayce paused, his hand stilling against the edge of the desk. He turned to face Viktor, his expression unreadable for a moment before softening into something vulnerable. 'Because you’re my partner,' he said simply, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. 'And because I care about you.'

The sincerity in his voice made Viktor’s chest tighten again, the unfamiliar weight of it settling in his ribs like a stone. He looked away, his gaze falling on the Hexcore’s faint glow. It was easier to focus on the steady pulse of the machine than on the overwhelming intensity of Jayce’s words.

'I see,' Viktor murmured, though he didn’t, not really. Caring was an equation he had never quite mastered, its variables too unpredictable to quantify.

Jayce didn’t press for a response, which Viktor appreciated more than he could say. Instead, he returned to the desk, his movements careful as he organized the scattered papers into a neat stack. The quiet companionship between them was enough, filling the space with a sense of calm that Viktor rarely experienced.

By the time Jayce left the lab, bidding Viktor a soft 'Good night, my dear' as he disappeared through the doorway, Viktor was too exhausted to overthink the moment. He let the warmth of the blanket and the faint echo of Jayce’s voice lull him into a restless but necessary sleep.

4.

The breakthrough came unexpectedly. Weeks of frustration had given way to a single moment of clarity, and Viktor’s hands moved with practiced precision as he adjusted the Hexcore’s alignment. The device hummed, its glow steady and strong. For the first time in ages, it felt as though the pieces of the puzzle had finally clicked into place. Every tiny adjustment, every painstaking detail that had eluded him before, now felt effortlessly clear, and the Hexcore pulsed with life in response to his touch.

'It works,' Viktor murmured, scarcely daring to believe it. His voice was a whisper, as though afraid that speaking too loudly might shatter the fragile reality of success. 'It actually works.'

The words hung in the air like an impossible dream, yet there they were, tangible and undeniable.

Jayce, who had been pacing restlessly in the corner of the workshop, stopped dead in his tracks at the sound of Viktor’s voice. His eyes widened, and without another word, he rushed forward, barely taking the time to process the moment before he grabbed Viktor by the shoulders, lifting him slightly off the ground in a whirlwind of excitement.

'You’re a miracle, Viktor!' Jayce exclaimed, his voice filled with unrestrained joy. 'Do you know that?'

Viktor, startled by the sudden display of exuberance, felt his heart leap in his chest. It wasn’t often that Jayce allowed himself to show such open emotion, and even rarer was it that Viktor was the source of it. The younger man’s hands were firm on his shoulders, and Viktor could feel the raw sincerity in his touch, the kind that spoke of admiration, of genuine belief.

Viktor laughed despite himself, the sound uncharacteristically light, slipping out like a ripple in still water. It felt strange, the sensation of joy — a feeling he hadn't truly allowed himself to experience for what seemed like years.

'It is not a miracle,' Viktor replied, his voice a little rougher than usual, but still carrying the familiar undertone of self-discipline. 'Just… science.' He chuckled softly, a slight shake of his head betraying his amusement. The triumph felt earned, but his modesty remained, grounded in the years of work and toil that had brought them to this point.

Jayce’s smile softened, his hands still resting on Viktor’s shoulders as if to steady both of them. His eyes were full of warmth, his usual quick wit and sarcastic edge replaced by something deeper, something more genuine. 'You’re too modest,' Jayce said, his voice quieter now, the initial rush of excitement giving way to something more reflective. 'This is incredible. You’ve done something no one thought possible. It’s more than just science, Viktor. It’s… it’s a turning point. For us. For everything.'

Viktor’s heart thudded in his chest, a mix of pride and disbelief spreading through him. The room around them seemed to fade into the background as Jayce’s words sunk in. Viktor’s gaze shifted toward the Hexcore, still glowing steadily on the workbench, its intricate mechanism now functioning as it had been intended to from the start. The power it generated felt alive, almost sentient in its hum, and Viktor couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of satisfaction.

For a fleeting moment, Viktor forgot about the ache in his leg, the sharp, persistent pain that had become a part of his life ever since that fateful day in the past. He forgot about the weight of his cane, which was never far from his side, always reminding him of his limitations. And, for a brief but precious moment, the ever-present doubt that had gnawed at the edges of his mind — the fear that he wasn’t good enough, that his best efforts would never be enough — receded, as if Jayce’s faith in him had acted as a shield against all of it.

Jayce stepped back slightly, his hands still on Viktor’s shoulders as he met his gaze. The younger man’s eyes were full of something Viktor couldn’t quite place, but it wasn’t just admiration. It was something far more personal.

'You’re more than just science, Viktor,' Jayce continued, his voice almost a whisper now. 'You’ve changed everything. You’ve shown me that we can do the impossible. And you’ve shown everyone else that, too.' His voice cracked ever so slightly as he spoke, but his eyes never left Viktor’s, and Viktor felt a strange tightness in his chest, as though the weight of their shared history and efforts were finally coming to fruition.

Viktor stood there in silence for a moment, unsure of how to respond. His usual defense mechanisms — the cold professionalism, the rational explanations — seemed to falter in the face of Jayce’s sincerity. He had never been good at handling such open expressions of emotion, especially when they were directed at him. He had always preferred to remain in the background, the silent force behind the scenes, rarely stepping into the spotlight.

Yet, standing there now, bathed in the soft glow of the Hexcore and the warmth of Jayce’s words, Viktor felt a strange sense of contentment that he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in far too long.

'It’s not just me,' Viktor said quietly, his voice steady once more. He shook his head slightly, his gaze returning to the Hexcore. 'We’ve both worked for this. Every step of the way. You’ve pushed me when I needed it, Jayce. Without you… none of this would have happened.'

Jayce’s eyes softened, and for a moment, the playful, often teasing spark that usually danced behind them was gone, replaced by something much deeper. 'We did this together, Viktor,' he said, his voice sincere. 'But make no mistake, you’re the one who made it happen. I just helped you get there.'

Viktor could feel his heart swelling with gratitude, the weight of Jayce’s words sinking into his bones. He turned slightly to look at his friend, his eyes meeting Jayce’s with quiet intensity. For the first time in a long time, Viktor allowed himself to fully acknowledge how much Jayce had come to mean to him — not just as a colleague, but as something more, something deeper.

Without another word, Viktor reached out, his hand resting on Jayce’s arm, a simple gesture that spoke volumes. It was the closest he had come to showing gratitude, to acknowledging the bond between them, in a way that words alone could not convey.

Jayce smiled at him, his expression a mix of affection and something unspoken, a shared understanding that didn’t need to be voiced aloud. The Hexcore hummed softly in the background, a symbol of their triumph, and Viktor finally allowed himself to let go of the doubts and fears that had held him back for so long. For the first time, he felt truly seen.

The night was unnervingly quiet. The only sound in the lab was the soft hum of machinery and the occasional creak of the building settling. Viktor’s eyes burned, the weight of exhaustion pressing down on him like an invisible force. His head nodded forward, the hours of work catching up to him. The calculations had blurred together, a haze of numbers and equations that refused to resolve into clarity. The Hexcore—still, stubbornly incomplete—mocked him from the workbench, its pulsing glow dimmer than it had been hours before.

Viktor's eyelids drooped, the chair beneath him the only thing keeping him upright. He fought it, but his mind was already drifting, his body betraying him. He jolted awake when he felt a hand on his shoulder, a firm but gentle pressure that brought him back to reality with a jolt.

'Go to bed, Viktor,' Jayce’s voice was low, just above a whisper, yet it cut through the silence like a knife. The concern in his tone was unmistakable. 'You’re no good to anyone like this.'

Viktor blinked rapidly, disoriented, but he couldn’t shake the exhaustion that had settled deep in his bones. His head throbbed, a constant reminder of the weight he had been carrying for days, weeks—maybe longer. He opened his mouth to argue, to insist that there was more to be done, but his words felt hollow, insubstantial. 'I still have work to do,' he mumbled, barely audible.

Jayce chuckled softly, the sound warm, almost affectionate, but Viktor could hear the edge of something else in it. A frustration? Or perhaps something deeper, something Viktor was too tired to interpret.

'No, you don’t,' Jayce replied, his hands already moving to pull Viktor’s chair back from the desk with ease, as if Viktor weighed nothing at all. 'Come on, I’ll walk you to your room.' The unspoken command was clear: Viktor wasn’t in a position to argue.

Too tired to protest, Viktor felt himself being guided, half-dazed, down the corridor. Every step felt like an effort, his legs stiff, his back aching. His cane, which he had long since abandoned during his work, was a distant memory. He leaned into Jayce’s support, more out of necessity than choice, but there was a part of him that resented it. Resented needing help.

The soft echo of their footsteps seemed impossibly loud in the narrow hallway, the silence pressing in on him like a living thing. He tried to focus on the rhythm of his breathing, but his mind kept drifting back to the Hexcore. The breakthrough that had eluded him for so long… Was he too close to it now? Was it slipping further away, just beyond his grasp? He couldn’t tell anymore.

When they reached his door, Jayce’s grip on his arm tightened for a moment, his fingers brushing over the fabric of Viktor’s sleeve. Viktor paused, his chest tightening in an unexpected rush of emotion. He could feel the warmth radiating from Jayce, even though they stood apart now, the space between them suddenly feeling uncomfortably large.

Jayce lingered for a moment longer than Viktor expected. There was a quiet intensity in the way he looked at him, his gaze not just searching, but… thoughtful. Vulnerable, even. Viktor caught his breath, his pulse quickening without explanation.

'Sweet dreams, Viktor,' Jayce said softly, his voice full of something Viktor couldn’t quite place. It was warm, gentle, but there was a tenderness to it that made Viktor’s heart skip a beat. Unspoken affection seemed to hang in the air between them, fragile and full of weight. The simple words, the quiet gesture, felt like more than just a friendly goodbye.

Viktor stood in the doorway long after Jayce had turned to leave, staring at the empty corridor, still feeling the faint warmth of Jayce’s hand on his arm. His heart beat too fast in his chest, a dull thrum that seemed to echo in his ears, drowning out everything else. He could still hear the faintest trace of Jayce’s voice in his head, still feel the sensation of his touch on his skin. Something was shifting between them, something Viktor couldn’t quite name or understand.

The weight of the moment pressed down on him, making his chest tight, but there was also a strange, inexplicable lightness in his heart. He swallowed hard, unsure of how to feel about the rush of emotions that had settled on him like a heavy fog. What was this? What was it about Jayce that had him questioning everything he had ever believed about himself? About what he needed?

For a long moment, Viktor simply stood there, unsure of whether to close the door behind him, to retreat into the solitude of his room and bury himself in his work as he always did, or to follow Jayce down the corridor and confront whatever this feeling was that had bloomed unexpectedly in his chest.

He felt a strange pull, an urge to do something—anything—that would break the silence, that would shatter the fragile bubble of tension that had grown between them. But no, he couldn’t. He couldn’t risk it. The fear that he had carried for so long, the need for control, for distance—it kept him rooted in place. He had learned long ago that it was easier to build walls than to tear them down.

But now, standing there, the empty hallway stretching out before him, Viktor felt something else: the weight of his own hesitation. The fear of what would happen if he let himself feel this, if he allowed himself to reach for something beyond the work, beyond the Hexcore, beyond the endless pursuit of perfection.

He closed his eyes, breathing deeply, willing himself to calm down. The ache in his leg, the strain on his mind, the exhaustion—all of it seemed to settle into his bones, grounding him, but also leaving him with an unsettling emptiness. Something had shifted. And Viktor wasn’t sure if he was ready for it, but he also couldn’t shake the feeling that, somehow, everything had changed.

When he finally closed the door, it was with a sharp click of finality, as if he had shut out not just the world outside, but the part of himself that was trying to break free. But even as he moved toward the bed, his mind lingered on the hallway, on Jayce, and on the words that had been left unsaid. He knew, deep down, that things couldn’t stay the same for long. And for the first time in a long while, Viktor wasn’t sure if he wanted them to.

+1. 

The rain fell in sheets, the kind of torrential downpour that made Piltover’s streets more river than road. Water pooled in the gutters, cascading off the edges of rooftops, and the air felt thick with the dampness, heavy enough to cling to every surface. Viktor and Jayce stood under the awning of the lab, sheltering from the storm, their breaths visible in the cool air as they waited for the worst of it to pass.

Jayce was shifting from foot to foot, trying to adjust his coat, but it did little to protect him from the chill that had settled deep into his bones. The fabric clung to his shoulders, water creeping beneath the collar, and the shiver that ran through him was impossible to ignore. He shot a glance at Viktor, his expression faintly amused yet undeniably uncomfortable.

Viktor was already watching him, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly at the sight of Jayce’s discomfort. The storm had come out of nowhere, and Viktor hated to see his partner—his friend, his equal—uncomfortable. Without thinking, Viktor reached up, removing his own scarf, and, with a smooth motion, draped it around Jayce’s neck.

'You will catch cold,' Viktor said simply, his voice low and matter-of-fact.

Jayce froze, blinking in surprise as he processed the gesture. His hand hovered near the fabric of the scarf, fingers lightly brushing the soft material as if unsure whether to accept it or question Viktor’s sudden care. 'Viktor, you didn’t have to…'

'Do not argue,' Viktor interrupted, his tone firmer than usual, a rare sharpness in it that was enough to still Jayce’s protest. Then, softer, almost hesitant, Viktor added, 'Jayce, my heart, you are far too important to risk.'

The words hung in the air, fragile and weighty at once, like a secret too dangerous to speak but impossible to ignore. The tension that followed was thick, almost tangible, as if the rain itself had frozen in midair between them. Viktor felt his breath catch, his chest tightening in a way he couldn't explain, his heart hammering against his ribs. His own words surprised him, yet there was no regret—only a quiet, undeniable truth that felt too real to take back now.

Jayce’s gaze shifted, and for a moment, Viktor thought his partner would laugh, dismissing the comment as a joke. But instead, Jayce stood still, staring at Viktor with wide eyes, something unreadable flashing in the depths of them. He was quiet for a long moment, then, with the faintest tilt of his head and a playful glint in his eyes, he finally spoke.

'I’m… your heart?' Jayce asked, his voice teasing, but there was an undeniable warmth to it that made Viktor’s pulse stutter. His lips curled into a slow, radiant smile, the kind of smile that made Viktor’s breath hitch.

Viktor swallowed hard, his mind reeling as his body froze in place. He opened his mouth to respond, to explain that it had only been an expression, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, he felt his gaze flicker down to Jayce’s lips—the curve of them, the way they parted just slightly, as if to invite something more. Viktor’s chest tightened again, and he had to force himself to look away.

'It is just an expression,' Viktor muttered, his voice rougher than he intended. He could feel the heat rising to his cheeks, and despite his best efforts to remain composed, the faintest of smiles tugged at the corner of his mouth. It was a fleeting thing, barely there, but it was enough to show Jayce that Viktor hadn’t meant to be dismissive. That maybe, just maybe, there was more beneath the words.

But Jayce didn’t seem convinced. He stood still, his eyes not leaving Viktor’s face, but Viktor could see the subtle flicker in them as Jayce glanced down, then back up, his gaze trailing over Viktor’s features with an intensity that made Viktor’s heart race. Jayce was weighing something, uncertain, yet Viktor didn’t have the patience to wait for him to make up his mind.

Viktor had made his decision.

The rain continued to fall around them, the world muted by the storm, but inside Viktor, the noise had become deafening. There was a quiet moment, a breath drawn in hesitation, and then Viktor’s hand reached out, gentle but determined, cradling Jayce’s jaw in his palm. His fingers trembled only slightly, the touch almost reverent, as if Jayce were something to be cherished—protected, even.

Viktor pulled Jayce closer, the space between them narrowing. He watched as Jayce’s breath hitched, his eyes searching Viktor’s face for some sign of what was coming, but Viktor didn’t give him a chance to second-guess it. Without hesitation, without waiting for permission, Viktor pressed his mouth firmly against Jayce’s.

It was an anchor in the storm, a fire in the cold. Jayce’s lips were warm against his, soft and insistent, and Viktor’s pulse thudded in his ears as his heart seemed to beat in time with the pressure of their mouths meeting. He could taste the rain on Jayce’s skin, feel the faint tremor of his partner’s breath, but nothing mattered except the feeling of Jayce under his touch, the way their bodies aligned as if they were meant to fit together in this moment.

Jayce didn’t pull away. If anything, he leaned into the kiss, his hands coming up to grip Viktor’s shoulders, pulling him closer still. Viktor’s breath faltered as Jayce’s touch sent sparks through him, igniting something deep within. The world outside continued to roar, but inside Viktor, the storm was calm, the weight of everything pressing him forward, toward Jayce. This—this kiss—felt like something inevitable, something that had been building in the space between them for far too long.

When they finally broke apart, both of them gasping for air, the rain had softened, a steady patter against the roof now instead of a downpour. Viktor’s heart was racing, his mind still spinning from the intensity of the moment. He couldn’t quite process what had just happened—what they had just done—but he knew, deep down, that it was right.

Jayce didn’t speak at first, his lips still tingling from the kiss, but the look in his eyes told Viktor everything. There was no teasing now, no laughter. Just quiet understanding. A shared secret. Something that had been unspoken, but never unacknowledged.

Viktor reached up, fingers brushing over Jayce’s cheek, as if to confirm that this wasn’t just some dream. His thumb traced the line of Jayce’s jaw, and he realized that, despite everything—the fear, the hesitation, the doubts—he wasn’t afraid anymore. Not of this, not of what came next.

'Jayce…' Viktor’s voice was barely a whisper, but Jayce met his gaze, his hand coming up to rest over Viktor’s, holding it there with an unspoken promise.

'I’m here,' Jayce said, his voice soft, but full of an intensity that matched Viktor’s own.

For a long moment, the world outside could have been a million miles away, and Viktor wouldn’t have cared. The storm had passed, and in its place, something new, something undeniably real, was just beginning to take shape between them.