Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

You were going to take this semester seriously. Your 5th of your college career, first of Junior year, this was the time to get serious. If you fuck up now, the chances of having to take an extra semester went up by an uncomfortable percentage. Yeah, you were going to take this semester very very seriously…key word were . Then Jayce and Cait decided to throw a party at their house. A huge ‘welcome back’ thing that was sure to be very fun and very well attended. Jayce was one of your closest friends, it would be offensive honestly if you didn’t show up to his first party of the year. Syllabi reviews and practice tests could wait until Sunday. 

You dug through your small closet in search of something to wear that hadn’t already been worn to a dozen other house parties. At this point half your clothing was pulled off their hangers and tossed on your bed. You pulled a light blue baby tee off a hanger, the low neckline was lined with a hint of lace.

“How’s this?” You held the shirt up to show Lest, already ready and scrolling through her phone

“Very cute,” Her freckled face looking at you upside down, “Not with that skirt, though.” She pointed to the button up denim skirt you had put on earlier.

“With what then?” You pulled on the top. 

“Must I dress you everyday,” Lest whined half heartedly.

“Well, yeah. What other reason would I willingly live with a fashion major?” You joked.

“Because you’re in love with me, obviously,” She scoffed, rolling off her bed and straightening her dress as she stood, “Do you still have those black shorts? The boxy ones with the high waist?”

“Er, yes…” You said hesitantly, opening a dresser drawer and digging through your pants until you found them. Next to you Lest began putting your clothes back on their hangers, “Yes, I do.”

You stripped off your skirt, handing it to Lest when she reached for it to hang up, and pulled on the shorts. You looked at yourself in the mirror, content enough with the outfit. It was a little boring, but at least it was comfortable.

“And lose the bra,” Lest poking the side of your boob, looking at you over your shoulder in the mirror, “Trust me.”

You purse your lips in the mirror, but shrugged and took the  suggestion anyways. Reaching behind your back to unclip your bra and toss it to the side.

“Better?” You asked, posing dramatically for her.

“Perfect,” She gave you a dramatic smile, her nose scrunching, “Now grab your stuff, the Uber will be here in 5.”

“Oh, fuck Lest, I’m not ready.” You whined, scrambling around your room to grab your things.

“Well get ready then, we have a party to get to!” She opened your door and gave a cheeky wave over her shoulder as she disappeared into the hallway. 

The party was in full swing when you and Lest reached Jayce and Cait’s house. The front yard was mostly empty, only a few stragglers wandering in and out, but the bass of the music could be felt from the street and colorful lights flashed in the front window. A sudden spark of excitement twisted in your stomach. It had been months since you last spent actual time with most of your friends. You had seen a handful of them in passing during this first week of classes, but you quickly realized that the free hours you had between classes didn’t line up with anyone else's. You missed your people and couldn't wait for another year with them by your side. 

You grabbed Lest by the hand, walking quicker up to the front door. You shoved open the door as much as you could, a wall of awkward freshmen hovering at the entrance blocking the way. You could feel the beat of a Pitbull song in your throat as you moved through the house. You opened the closet under the stairs, a hasty “Housemates Only” sign taped to the door. You and Lest were included in this of course, as were a handful of other friends close to Jayce and Cait. The bags tossed on the floor told you exactly who was here already. You added yours to the mix and continued to push through sweaty bodies in search of your friends. 

You found them in the kitchen. Mel was sitting on the counter, Jayce leaning against the edge between her legs, his back pressed against her chest. Cait was securely under Vi’s arm, hiding her laugh behind the red cup in her hand. You were surprised to see that even Sky had shown up, awkwardly sipping at a can of seltzer and hovering next to Jayce. 

When Mel spotted you pushing through the other people in the kitchen she gasped! Excitedly pushing Jayce away so she could hop off the counter. She squealed your name, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and squeezing harder than a girl her height should be able to. She pulled away and put her forehead to yours, widening her eyes with a dumb grin.

“Hi, Melly-Bear!” You giggled, glad she always kept up with the same silly greeting, “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, Darling,” Her pretty accent only slightly slurred on alcohol. You could smell something fruity on her breath.

She pulled away, giving you one more hug before letting you go to greet the others. Jayce hugged you as Mel accosted Lest next. 

“Thought you bailed on us,” Jayce laughed, pulling a can out of the ice filled sink and popping it open before handing it to you. Always a gentleman. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” You practically had to shout over the music, “Wardrobe struggles.”

“That’s what you landed on?” Jayce teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Actually it’s what Lest landed on,” You snarked up at him, “Don’t insult the love of my life.”

“I think your outfit is cute!” Sky slurred, looking around Jayce, her cheeks were flushed already. She was definitely drunker than you had thought she was, “and your tits look amazing.”

“Thank you very much Sky,” You said with exaggerated politeness, and then quietly to Jayce, “She’s fucked up.”

“I know, we’re keeping an eye on her,” He nodded, pulling a beer out of the sink behind you.

“Who’s sober tonight?” You asked as Mel rejoined you and wrapped an arm around Jayce’s waist.

“That would be me,” Vi said across from you, raising a half hearted hand.  

““Drew the short straw, huh? Tragic,” Lest said, shaking her head with mock pity.

“She can have fun sober,” Cait insisted, pointedly taking a sip of her own drink.

“Exactly!” You teased, “Well you have your sober fun, the rest of us are gonna do tequila shots.”

“Brilliant idea!” Mel gasped, clasping her hands together.

She got to work, pulling out plastic shot glasses from the cupboard and carefully filling them with the shitty tequila Jayce kept around for when everyone was already drunk. Cait opened the fridge behind her, the bright light from it jarring in the dark kitchen, and pulled out a tupperware of cut up lime. She passed the container and a shaker of salt around, and Mel handed out the little cups, making sure Sky received the one with cold water in it.

“Hey Vi, where’s Jinx and Ekko?” You asked as you took a piece of lime, realizing the youngest members of your little group were missing.

“They’re at that concert,” She told you, taking Cait’s cup so she could hold her shot.

“Oh shit, I didn’t realize it was tonight.” You said, licking the back of your hand and shaking salt onto it.

“Lame, they definitely would have had more fun here,” Mel sighed dramatically, setting down the container of limes and salt after everyone had gotten some. 

“Wait, where’s V?” Jayce asked Cait, she shrugged.

“Who?” Lest asked, taking a small sniff of the tequila and scrunching her nose.

“Viktor, he’s our new roommate,” Jayce said, “I’ve known him forever. He’s the best, y’all will like him.”

He turned looking out into the crowd of people on the other side of the breakfast bar, squinting like that would actually help him find the guy.

“Viktor!” He shouted, when there was no response he tsked, “probably snuck off to his room. Not really a party guy.” Jayce told you with a shrug, “Next time, I guess.”

Your circle of friends gathered a little closer, excited to be all back together again after the boring summer months. Jayce held up his shot, everyone else followed suit.

“To a good fucking semester!” He said triumphantly.

“To a good fucking semester!” Everyone shouted back, lifting their shots just a little higher before licking the salt off their hands and shooting, a round of groans following as they bit into the limes. The fruit did nothing to make the shitty tequila taste any better.  

“Yeah, not feelin’ too bad about being the sober one right now,” Vi grimaced, sipping on an energy drink instead. 

Lest grabbed you by the hand, pulling you to the living room where all of the furniture had been pushed against the walls. With your drink still in hand, you moved with her to the beat of the music. Your focus on each other keeping away any unwanted attention in the crowded space. The other joined you eventually, Sky sliding up to you and Lest. You put your hands on her hips - stiff even when she was drunk - you pulled her closer to you. Lest moved so Sky was between you and her. Sky’s face reddened, the drinks and closeness making her blush creep all the way up to her pretty hairline.

“I’m glad you came out,” You leaned in close so she could hear you, “This is your first party right?”

“Yeah,” She shouted back, beginning to loosen up in your hands, “I’m…I’m so drunk.” She admitted, you could see the apology behind her eyes.

“Don’t worry about it,” You told her, “Everyone gets too fucked up the first time they go out, it’s inevitable.”

“Really?” She asked, hopeful.

“Yeah, of course,” You nodded, leaning in further to talk in her ear, your cheek rubbing against hers, “At my first party, I got so drunk off canned wine that I took my bra off and tossed it in someone's pool.”

“No!” She gasped, pulling back slightly to see if you were lying.

“Yep, everyone has to pay their dues to the party gods,” You shrugged, feeling Lest’s hand brush against yours on Sky’s waist, “So don’t worry about being too drunk. Just relax and let yourself have fun. Vi is the responsible one tonight, she won’t let anything happen to you.”

Sky nodded, relaxing into you and Lest. Time blurred as the three of you danced. Mel and Jayce and Cait and Vi somewhere close by. Each song faded into the next, only your favorites standing out. Sometimes the beat of the song would pull you away from Sky and Lest, the three of you wanting more room to dance and move. Others pulled you flush against Sky’s back, your hips grinding against her to the rhythm of the song. The only moments where you stopped dancing was when your drink needed to be replaced. 

Your body was aching by the time Sky stopped moving, breathing heavily.

“I’m gonna go get water,” She shouted over the music, “It’s so hot in here.”

“Okay, do you want someone to go with you?” You asked, still lightly moving to the beat.

“No, I’m okay,” She laughed, shaking her head, “I think I’m gonna take a break…forever.”

“Okay, find us or text the group chat if you need anything, okay?” She grinned and gave a thumbs up as she snaked through the crowd back towards the kitchen. 

You swished your drink around in its can, debating if you wanted another or not.  A heavy hand landed on your shoulder, interrupting the thought. You gasped, yanking your shoulder away and whipping around angrily to whoever grabbed you. 

“Easy there tiger,” Jayce laughed, side eyeing you , “Have you considered this is why you’re single.”

“Have you considered my boot in your ass?” You snapped, but relaxed your shoulders anyways.

“No, but I have considered kicking your ass at rage cage,” He shrugged.

“In your dreams, Talis” You scoffed, following him to the dining table.

Mel was arranging a large cluster of plastic cups on the table, Cait and Vi already cracking cans and pouring a little bit into each. Some freshmen were hanging around, hesitant to join the game. Mel picked up a half empty cup from the center, extending it out to you.

“Your contribution?” She asked, as you peered into the cup. It was already a cloudy mix of beer and seltzer and backwash. You tipped the remnants of your can into the cup. She went around, having the freshman pour bits of their own drinks into the Bitch Cup. 

“Anyone allergic to cinnamon?” Jayce asked, holding up a handle of Fireball with a smirk.

“Ew, why do you even have that?” You grimaced as he poured a shot into the cup.

“What? You don’t fuck with Fireball and Dr.Pepper?” He asked, tilting another shot into the cup.

“Nobody should,” You fake gagged, “But go ahead and keep pouring it in if you love it so much, you’ll be the one drinking it.”

“Delusional,” Jayce shrugged, setting himself up at the other side of the table, tossing one ping pong ball to you and testing the bounce of the other, “You're delusional.”

Mel began explaining the rules to the couple of freshies that hadn’t played before. They nodded with false confidence.

“Wait, where’s V?” He asked, standing up straight and looking around the crowd for his elusive friend again.

“He was here a minute ago,” Violet told him, looking around as well. At this point you weren't sure that he wasn’t a made up guy.

“He keeps disappearing,” Jayce pouted, and then to you, competitive air completely gone in the moment, “I wanted you to meet him. He’s cool, you’ll get along.”

“Jayce, babe, he’s probably out making new friends on his own,” Mel laughed, “You know, that thing people do at parties.”

“Boo, lame. He needs to be friends with all of my friends, first,” Jaye pouted, and then without warning snatched up one of the perimeter cups, downed the contents, and began trying to bounce the ball into it. 

“Oh, fuck you!” You yelped, grabbing a cup and drinking it so quickly you barely tasted what it was. It was cheap beer. The aftertaste clung to the back of your throat, making you cringe as you tried to get the ball in the cup before the other one caught up.

You blinked down at the complete stack of cups in front of you, horrified at the outcome of this game. Jayce shook with laughter across from you, bracing himself on the dining room table. 

“I was set up!” You insisted, gesturing to the freshman that had set the cup to the right of you every time they got it in on the first try, “I don’t even know these kids and they were against me the whole time! What’d you do, Talis? Pay them?”

“Don’t accuse me of bribery!” He gasped, mock offended as he wiped tears away, “This is what you get for being cocky.”

“Fuck you, man, this is misogyny!” You crossed your arms over your chest, pouting.

“Sure is! Now, drink the Bitch Cup like a lady,” He smirked, extending the nearly overflowing red cup. 

You peered into the cup, nauseous spit flooding the back of your mouth at the cloudy liquid. At the look on your face, Jayce hesitated.

“I mean, I like fireball, I don’t mind helping you out,” He could barely hide his cringe as he offered to help. 

“No way,” You snapped, taking the cup. You'd rather have a hangover from hell than anyone's pity, “I’m not a pussy.”

You took a deep breath and began to drink from the cup. Tilting it back as much as you could without dumping it all over yourself. The girls were chanting your name, urging you on. The taste was awful, the burn of the whiskey was worse. Cinnamon and sour beer overpowered your senses as you drained the cup, breathing in through your nose. Little streams of liquid dripped down the corners of your mouth as you neared the bottom. You finished it off with a shudder. Gasping and fighting back the urge to gag, your stomach turning.

 “I’m gonna get water,” You grimaced, dropping the empty cup into the stack instead of dinging it off Jayce’s head like you wanted to

“Proud of you!” Jayce teased as you walked away, you flipped him off with both hands as you backed into the kitchen.

At this point in the night Jayce’s house was at max capacity, and the kitchen was especially crowded. You pushed through people to get to the counter, searching for a clean cup. Only the plastic bag they had come in was left behind, red cups scattered around the counter with varying amounts of liquid in them.

“Animals,” You muttered, huffing at the lack of options and incredible waste. 

You pushed through the crowd again, trying to get to the far side of the kitchen to get a glass instead. You found Sky sitting on the counter, taking down to someone leaning on the counter next to her, a solo cup in her hand. 

“Sky! My sweet baby angel,” You gasped, sliding between her knees and wrapping your arms around her waist in a tight hug. You could feel the liquor from the bitch cup throwing you off balance. You reached up, cupping her face in your hands, “Promise me you will never ever play a drinking game, you’re too good for that.”

Sky giggled, pressing her face to your palm. She didn’t seem any less drunk than earlier.

“That’s water right?” You nodded to the cup in her hand, leaning away from her and bringing your hands down to her knees.

“Yep,” She nodded, extending the cup towards your face, “Want a sip?”

You let her tip some into your mouth, accepting the drink mostly to confirm that it was actually water. Luckily it was.

“Thanks babe,” You said, pulling away and wiping your mouth on the back of your hand. You suddenly remembered she had been talking to someone before you walked up, “But, I’m gonna get my own.”

You looked over to who she was talking to and found yourself a little surprised. He wasn’t someone you recognized, but he looked too old to be a freshman. What really threw you off was the fact that he was intimidatingly beautiful. Even in the low lighting he had the most gorgeous amber eyes and a bone structure that rivaled any model. You realized not only were you caught off guard, but now you were staring. Sky didn’t notice she continued talking about whatever they had been talking about before you showed up, but he did. A small motion of his brows, perfect eyes narrowing just slightly. 

You threw walls up, trying to cover your embarrassment with attitude. You leaned in just slightly, narrowing your eyes as you looked up at him and reached up towards his shoulder. Judging by the way he shifted back slightly, his eyes glancing to your hand with just a little bit of confusion, you were able to trip him up just the same. 

“S’cuse me, Pretty Boy,” You said, your lips forming a crooked smile, “Just tryna’ get a glass.”

His mouth formed a small ‘o’ shape and he stepped over quickly, leaning against Sky’s legs. You opened the cabinet and pulled out a glass. Not acknowledging him as you went through the motions, but very aware of where he was. You grabbed Sky’s knee before walking away.

“Find me if you wanna dance again, okay?” You told her, she gave a squinty smile and nodded before you walked away. 

You heard Jayce’s voice in your head. Have you considered this is why you’re single?

It was just after midnight and the party still showed no real signs of slowing. You and Jayce had tapped out on drinking but were still having a good time. You both leaned near the back door, watching the others play a round of beer pong. Lest and Mel had teamed up against Cait and Vi and unfortunately, due to Vi’s soberness,were getting crushed. You laughed as another ball splashed into a cup on Lest and Mel’s side. 

“Nooo!” Lest whined dramatically, dragging her hands down her perfect face. She picked up the cup anyways, downing the contents and setting it to the side. 

“I think we’re rooting for the wrong team here,” Jayce laughed in the middle of your conversation, swirling red gatorade around in his cup, 

“Hey, unless I’m playing, I don’t take sides,” You held your hands up in defence. 

You and Jayce both looked up at the ceiling pretending to be really interested in the lights when Lest and Mel turned to glare at you.

You dropped the act when they turned away. Jayce laughed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeah, honestly, I’m really excited to get a jump on capstone.” He told you, “I mean, we don’t have to technically do anything until next year, but It'll be nice to be ahead, we’ll make more progress for sure.”

“We?” You asked, you hadn’t noticed the plural earlier in the conversation.

“Yeah, now that Viktor transferred we’re gonna do our capstone together!” He was excited to bring up his friend again, “We’ll be doing the same amount of work as we would be if we were working separately, but still, both of our ideas are better when we work together.”

“Ya know, that’s nice and all, but I still don’t believe this Viktor guy exists,” You shrugged, “I mean all night it's been ‘where’s Viktor?’ ‘Where's Viktor?’ But doesn’t he live here? Why haven't I seen him?”

“I swear on my mother he’s real,” Jayce said, rubbing a hand down his face, “He’s not really a party guy, but he said he’d stay and party and meet people. Honestly, I think that lasted about an hour and a half before he bailed. He probably drove down to the pier to smoke a cigarette and listen to Alex Turner or something.”

You scoffed, “Sounds like an interesting guy.”

“Hey, don’t judge him before you see him.” He insisted, “He’s quiet, but he’s not shy or weird, ya know? He’s cool, trust me.”

“Damn, you really have a hard on for this guy,” You teased. Jayce always talked about people like this, you were sure he saw his friends the same way as he saw stars in the sky.

“Hey, I won’t deny it. If I was into guys, he’d be the one for me.” Jayce assured, and then backtracked when Mel shot him a look, “ IF , I said. But I’m not, I’m not into girls either, not unless their name is Mel Medarda. I’m Mel-Sexual.”

“Okay, reel it in a little bit,” Mel said, rolling her eyes but laughing with him anyways.

You were about to suggest a study hangout on Sunday night, it would be a good chance to both confirm that Viktor was in fact real and get your practice tests done before class. Just as you opened your mouth to speak, the sliding door opened and a couple of boys fell into the house. In their drunken shoving of each other as they came in, one slammed right into Jayce’s back causing his drink to splash almost completely onto you. You curse, wiping red Gatorade off your chin.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” He said hands hovering front of him for a moment before he rounded on the boys, they didn’t even acknowledge what happened, “Okay fuckers, you’re done.” He grabbed both of them by the back of the shirt and began hauling them towards the door, “Go home, no more Rune Street Parties for you two.” 

“Oh shit,” Lest said, inspecting the mess on your shirt, the red dye of the drink splashed dramatically over the blue fabric.

“Damn, I just got this top,” You pouted as Jayce came back.

“Dude, I am so sorry,” He rubbed his forehead, “I should have kicked them out sooner, they’ve been obnoxious all night. Listen, I have clothes in the dryer, you can go throw your top in the wash and steal a t-shirt.”

You thought for a second, wondering if the $15 shirt was worth the trouble of Jayce’s offer. You sighed and nodded.

“Okay, thanks,” You frowned, the drink making you feel sticky.

“Of course, you remember how to use that washer, right?” He asked.

“Yeah, I’ll just do a quick wash and come back when it’s done.” You told him, sliding open the door.

“Yeah, text me if you need anything.” He told you as you stepped into the backyard. 

This past summer you had done summer research until the end of June, during that time you had sublet a room in the house. Grateful to not have been holed up in a hotel room for a month. It was a great house, almost perfect even. Its only real quirk was the fact that the washer and dryer were installed in a small garage at the very back of the yard. There were a few people milling about, smoking and drinking on the deck, but the further you got into the yard, the less kids were around. Everyone in the house smoked in the garage, it was comfier than sitting in the weather sometimes, and kept the neighbors from complaining. 

The garage wasn’t off limits to anybody, but unless Jayce invited people in, it usually went unused during parties. No one thinking to look inside for a place to sit. Tonight, though, you could see the light inside turned on. The warm light shining through the thin curtains Cait had put up. 

You paused outside the door, listening for what might be happening on the other side. When you were sure that you weren’t going to walk in on anyone fucking, you went inside. You couldn’t help the smile that pulled at the corners of your mouth.

Pretty Boy was sitting on one of the couches shoved into the small space. He didn’t react to you opening the door, the wired earbuds he was wearing prevented him from hearing you. You took a moment to look at him in better lighting without being caught. His head was tipped against the back of the couch, eyes closed. His dark lashes bushed against the top of his cheeks that were flushed with just a little bit of pink. The lines of his jaw and throat were perfect, a couple of beauty marks standing out against his pale skin. One hand was tapping out the beat on the arm of the couch, smoke slowly rising half gone joint between his fingers. You wondered if his hands were warm or cold. 

‘Okay creeper’ You thought to yourself shaking the thoughts away from your head, ‘that’s enough.’

You shut the door harder than you normally would, unable to think of another way to get his attention. He furrowed his eyebrows and sat up, finally looking at you by the door. He pulled his earbuds out.

“Hey Pretty Boy,” You smirked, not letting yourself be pinned under his gaze.

“What happened to you?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. You realized that you hadn't heard him speak earlier in the house, the accent he had was interesting. He tilted his head, waiting for a response.

“Oh, uh, Jayce happened,” You scoffed, shaking your head and pulling the bottom of your shirt away to look at the mess, “I’m sure he’d cover my entire life in Red-40 if he could.”

“Hm, unfortunate,” He muttered, “It’s a nice shirt.”

“Well hopefully drowning it in Tide will save it,” You shrugged, opening up the washing machine. 

He watched as you grabbed a Metallica t-shirt out of the half folded basket of laundry on the counter. You were sure Jayce had never listened to a Metallica song in his life. Pretty Boy continued to watch you as you held the shirt in your hands, fidgeting and staring at him awkwardly. When he didn’t take the hint, you turned your back to him fully and peeled the sticky shirt off. You wished you could do something about the Gatorade dried on your skin before putting on the clean shirt, but oh well.

When you turned around he was looking the other direction, but you could see that his face was flushed red all the way to his ears. You snorted, rolling your eyes at him. The fastest cycle on Jayce’s washer was still 25 minutes. Not ideal, but it’d have to do. You tossed the stained shirt into the drum, poured a little too much detergent in, and started it up. 

“Hm, you better work, bitch.” You whispered to the machine, suddenly worried about the fate of your top.

“Are you talking to the washer?” He turned back around to face you.

“I’m encouraging her.” You said seriously, sitting on the other arm of the couch, “There’s, like, 25 minutes on the cycle, cool if I wait here?”

“I’m not going to stop you,” He said, placing the joint between his teeth and relighting it. 

The cherry glowed as he inhaled, smoke pouring out of his perfect nose as he exhaled. He looked back over to you, extending the joint out, both an offer and question. You considered for a second, before taking it. The way he held it to you didn’t allow enough skin contact for you to tell what his hands felt like. They were pretty up close, slender but not dainty. 

“So,” You began, sliding off the arm to sit more comfortably and taking a hit, “Why’re you out here all alone, Pretty Boy?”

“Hm, didn’t like the music,” He said casually, picking at the frayed edge of the couch cushion.

“Nobody actually likes party music,” You laughed, dragging your knees to your chest and resting your chin against them, “It’s just to drown out any thoughts that the alcohol didn’t already get rid of.”

“Very introspective,” He nodded. You weren’t sure that it was.

“Well, what’re you listening to instead, then?” You glanced down at his phone next to him, music still playing faintly through the earbuds.

He picked up the phone and yanked the cord out. 

“-er’s lovers to be had, those walls will make sinners out of such lovely lads,” played out of the small speakers.

“Oh, this is a good one,” You nodded along to the Arctic Monkeys song, smirking when you said, “Definitely better than David Guetta. Playlist or album?”

“Album,” He told you, accepting the joint back after you took another hit.

“So you’re the kinda guy to hide away in the garage with British indie rock and bad weed?”

“First of all, it is not bad weed, it is subpar weed,” He defended, “And second, I’m not hiding. If I were hiding, I wouldn’t have been found.”

“Kinda seems like you’re hiding,” You shrugged, taking back the subpar weed, “I mean, Sky seemed real interested in you and you’re out here instead of with her.”

“Sky went home actually,”

“And you didn’t go with her?!”

“Her roommate took her home, she was smashed.”

“Sky doesn’t have a roommate.” You told him, furrowing your eyebrows.

“What?” He sat upright, horror on his face.

A crooked grin plastered your face, “Kidding, kidding.”

“That was very fucked up,” He huffed, putting a hand to his forehead as he fell back against the couch.

“Sorry, it was too good an opportunity to pass up,” You hid your laugh against your knee, “l am glad Sky got home, though. Her roommate is a little weird, I’ve never seen her at a party before.”

“Her? I thought Sky’s roommate was a man?” Pretty Boy tilted his head and your stomach dropped, you were sure you’d never be able to breathe again before a cheeky smile tugged at his lips.

“Fuck you, Pretty Boy.” You gasped, dropping your forehead to your knees, heart hammering like you’d just run a marathon.

“I’m sorry,” He laughed, and then, “ it was too good an opportunity to pass up.”

“I deserved that,” You blinked, lips pursed.

Realizing the joint had gone out, you swiped a lighter off the table. You sat criss cross on the couch facing him.

“Still,” You said around the joint as you lit it, “Fucked up or not, she seemed to like you alot, probably wound’t have minded you around.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes as you steered back towards that line of thought, “Sky is nice. ”

“Ouch,” You cringed, “Sky is nice…but?”

“She is nice, but she’s… too nice,” He said slowly, trying to find the right words, “She’s amazing, but definitely the kind of girl who would want to marry the first guy that fucks her.”

“You’re assuming she’s a virgin?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Tell me, is my assumption wrong?” He asked with a tight smile, like he already knew your answer.

“Well, no,” You ducked your head, “But don’t tell anyone I said that.”

“Said what?” He raised an eyebrow, you snorted a laugh at the response, “And hey, I think it is absolutely fine if people want to marry their first. I, however, am not, eh, compatible with those kinds of people.”

“That’s fair,” You scoffed, passing the joint back over to him. 

You didn’t realize the high creeping in during your conversation. It was on you know, though, clouding your brain and making your head feel heavy and your thoughts chase each other in circles. You shifted again, moving to sit properly on the couch, the heels of your hightops propped on the edge of the messy coffee table. Pretty Boy was back to tapping along to the beat of his music, equally as stoned. You felt the threadbare fabric under your fingertips, hand gliding across the couch cushion next to you as you zoned out. When your movement produced a crackling package sound, you stopped. Head lolling as you frowned and lifted your palm. The spiky edge of a packet was sticking out from between the cushions. You pulled it out.

“Ha!” You snorted a laugh when you realized what it was.

“Hm?” Pretty Boy hummed next to you, looking over.

“Pokemon cards,” You and Jayce had gotten these at a gas station sometime last year, wanting to learn how to play, “I forgot about these.” 

You pulled the cards out of the already torn wrapper, only four remained. You turned over the first card, a Solrock. 

“Smash or pass?” You snorted and held the card out for Pretty Boy to see.

“Pardon?” He raised his eyebrows at you.

“Smash or pass?” You insisted, like you were asking him the time of day.

“I don’t understand.” He told you, shaking his head.

“Would you have consensual sex with - smash- this being, or not - pass-?” You explained.

“It’s…it’s a- what even is it?” He looked at it in almost horror.

“It’s Solrock, duh. It’d be warm,” You offered, “C’mon, it’s not like you have to marry it,”

“Pass,” He said with a heavy sigh.

“See, was that so hard?” You teased, holding up the next card, “Xatu, smash or pass?”

“That’s a bird.” 

“He’s a handsome bird, very stoic and responsible looking.”

“”Wait,” He stopped you, “You didn’t tell me your decision, that is not fair. Smash or pass Solrock?”

“Oh, pass for sure,” You told him, “the spikes are too obvious, who knows where they’ve been.”

“You thought too much about that,” He plucked the Xatu card from your hand, looking at it closer, “ What about this one?”

“Like I said, stoic and handsome, smash.” 

“Hm, interesting.” He handed the card back to you, “Pass.”

“Lopunny, smash or pass?” You said, smirking as you flipped the next card because you knew exactly what he would say.

“Eh, pass…” He said, hesitation clear.

“Nah, don’t lie,” You teased, “I won’t tell anybody. Just admit you want to fuck the sexy rabbit pokemon.”

“Nope, pass,” He tried to hold firm, but your expectant look drew a groan. He dropped his head into his hands, “...smash.”

“I knew it,” You poked his side, grinning, “Me too, smash all the way.”

“If you tell anybody,” He warned, holding a finger up at you.

“I just told you I’d smash Xatu ,” You deadpanned, flipping over the last card. “Which is definitely more controversial. Here, last one.”

You held up the Onix card to him, “Smash or Pass?”

“It’s a rock worm,” He scoffed, “Pass, clearly.”

“First of all, he’s a rock snake ,” You cleared up, “And second, smash.”

“What!?” His mouth fell open, blinking at you.

“Look at his face! It’s about the emotion,” You defended, “He looks…determined, driven. Attractive qualities.”

“Sometimes I wish I could be in other people's heads,” He scoffed, relighting the joint once more, “Just for a minute.” 

“It’s better you stay in your own pretty head,” You told him, smirking as you lent back against the sofa. You didn’t realize it but over the course of your silly little game you had gotten very close. Your shoulder was practically behind his, you could smell his cologne and feel the heat of his thigh pressed to yours, “You’d never be the same once being in mine.”

“Jasně,” He muttered as you blew smoke out of his nose again, handing the joint over to you. 

You took a hit. Curiosity getting the better of you, you asked, “Where are you from?”

“Česko,” He looked down at you, face closer than you expected, “You people call it Czechia.”

“Oh, where is that?” You had heard of the country, but couldn’t think of where it was exactly.

“In Europe.” He told you, his pupils were blown out.

“I know that,” You scoffed, bumping your shoulder against his and rolling your eyes, “Where in Europe? I’m bad at geography, explain it to me.”

He smirked softly, you could imagine his accent saying ‘Americans’ in your head, “It’s East of Germany, South of Poland, west of Slovakia and North of Austria. It’s in central Europe.”

“Hm, okay, see that was helpful,” You said, gesturing around with your hands, “What brought you to the U.S.?”

“Piltover, specifically the engineering program,” You weren’t surprised, that was why most people attended the University of Piltover, “You ask a lot of questions.”

“You think that’s a lot?” You snorted, “I can ask plenty more.”

“Eh, not necessary,” He protested with a flit of his hand, as you began asking him rapid fire questions.

“What year are you?”

A moment, and then a resigned, “I’m in my 3rd year.”

“How old are you?”

“22.”

“Cats or dogs?” 

“Neither, really, but cats if I have to pick.”

“Tea or Coffee?”

“Whatever is available as long as it’s highly caffeinated.” His lopsided smile grew a little with each question, the game of feigning annoyance over. 

“Ah, a true STEM student,” You raised your eyebrows and laughed, leaning against him for a moment before pulling away, “What’s your favorite color?”

“Today, light blue. Tomorrow, who knows.” 

“Do you want to make out?”

Chapter Text

“Do you want to make out?” You tipped your head to the side innocently, but were unable to hide your amused smile, encouraged by the second of shock on his face.

“You are very abrasive,” He frowned, but looked more conflicted than angry.

“So is that a no or…” You snarked, rolling your eyes.

He looked down at you next to him, amber eyes watching yours, searching for something. Slowly he ducked his head, face inches from yours as you looked down to your lips. 

“Tell me when to stop,” He breathed, his words sending a jolt of electricity down your spine. 

When you didn’t reply, his eyes moved back up to yours, expectant, waiting. You gasped for breath, the skill of breathing escaping you as you nodded too quickly. He snorted a laugh at your eagerness, the corner of his lip pulling up just slightly. He moved closer again, open mouth ghosting against yours, like he was giving you one last chance to back out. Normally you’d become irritated when a man decided for once in his life to take it slow when all you wanted to do was go fast. This was different, he was different. You felt like you were drowning in everything about him and he hadn’t even kissed you yet. 

And when he did, you decided you could drown in him forever.

Slowly he pressed his lips to yours, soft and warm, eyes falling closed as he tasted you. You tilted your chin up, wanting more of him. His tongue pushed against yours, the taste of mint and gin mixing with the weed you two had been smoking. He pulled your bottom lip between his teeth, biting hard enough to elicit a whine from your throat. 

Without breaking the kiss he twisted his back and scooped an arm under your shoulders. He cradled you halfway under him, the other hand gripping your waist. You forced the pace to quicken, moving your mouth against his with almost bruising force. He fought back, the hand on your waist moving to your jaw, his fingers moving tenderly against your cheek, forcing you to slow down. When you relaxed, he moved his hand back to your waist, fingers brushing against the hem of the borrowed t-shirt. 

He pulled back, trying to hide how hard he was breathing. He fluttered his fingers against the hem of the shirt, “Is this okay?”

You quirked an eyebrow at him, “Did I ask you to stop?”

He swallowed hard, eyes fluttering shut at your tone. His mouth found yours again, settling on a pace somewhere between what you and him wanted. It worked. It was perfect. His hands were slow, cold against your burning skin. He splayed his hand flat against your ribs, trying to hold as much of you as he could in his palm. You sucked his top lip into your mouth, biting gently and wishing you could leave marks on him. He cupped your breast in his hand, kneading gently and flicking his thumb across your nipple. 

“ Fuck, ” You panted, unable to help the way your head tilted back, your back arching up into his touch. You would’ve been embarrassed by the reaction to such a small thing, but in the moment you really couldn't be bothered to care.

He took the opportunity to attach his lips to your neck, messily kissing your skin. Your hand tangled into his hair, pulling gently at the soft chestnut strands. The whimper he let out made your thighs snap together, and you pulled on him harder, dying to hear it again. He gave you exactly what you wanted, the sound tumbling from his lips like a hymn. He let you pull his neck back, panting with half lidded eyes and a blush that would rival a peach, the beauty marks on his face standing out against the color.

His lips pulled back over his teeth in a dazed smile as he looked down on you, your hand still tangled tightly in his hair. He tried to move towards your lips again, but you pulled him away by the hair, forcing his head sideways so you could bite down on the pale column of his neck. You could feel the shift of the couch as his hips gave a microscopic and involuntary buck. You wanted to fuck him. You needed to fuck him.

You dragged your knee up, slightly unsure of where to actually go in the position you were in but he got the hint. His hand left your chest, moving up to grab your jaw. He held your face as he licked into your mouth, kissing you like you were the last thing he’d ever taste. When he was sure you weren’t going to pull away again to attack his neck he dragged his hand down your side, at just the right speed and pressure to make you burn for more. He grabbed the back of your knee, pulling your leg up to drape across his waist. He squeezed the back of your thigh with a content sigh, moving his fingers over your skin like he wanted to map every pore, every freckle, and scar. His fingers wandered higher, cupping the curve of your ass and pulling you closer. You clung to the front of his shirt with one hand, the other on the side of his neck. Fingertips brushing against his hairline. 

He pulled away, more like forced himself away, panting above you with his eyes screwed shut, a hard line between his eyebrows.

You kissed his jaw gently, reaching up to smooth the lines of his face, “Relax, Pretty Boy,” You practically cooed, “I’m not going anywhere.”

He pressed his forehead to yours, eyes searching yours again. You weren’t sure what for. Regret? Hesitation? Fear? When he didn’t find anything telling him no, he grabbed your waist, pulling you upright.

“C’mere,” His voice was shaky, holding back, “Please.”

You giggled and pecked his lips, “So polite,”

“Just, uh, carefully,” He told you, keeping a grip on your leg to guide it. When you quirked your head he gestured to his own leg.

He wore a brace, extending from his mid thigh to mid calf. You hadn’t noticed it, the black material almost faded completely against the dark denim of his jeans, not to mention the high and your distraction with other parts of his body.

“Oh, sorry,” You said without thinking, trying to shift away.

“For what?” He asked, raising an eyebrow, grip on your leg keeping you in place.

“I…I don’t know,” You chewed on your lower lip, wishing you hadn’t said it, “I just, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’m not gonna break, darling,” He assured you, gently forcing you to straddle his lap, “Just don’t put all of your weight on that one leg, and we’re all good.”

You hesitated, suddenly aware of your every movement. He didn’t seem irritated with your concern, luckily, but he definitely wanted to dispel any worry. He grabbed your face with both hands and pulled you into a rough kiss.

“I mean, if you really need to put all your weight on my thigh,” He panted into your mouth, “You are more than welcome to ride the other one.”

You couldn’t help but whine into his mouth. His hands moved from your face, he grabbed the back of your knees and yanked you closer to him, forcing you to stop your hovering and press down flush against him. He was so hard, the feeling of his cock beneath his jeans releasing all the nervous tension in your body. You let yourself settle against him, creating even more contact. 

“Good girl,” He muttered, doing his best to keep from rutting up against you. Trying to have some self control.

Heat pooled between your legs as you kissed him, tongue invading his mouth as you gave one hard roll of your hips, practically begging for more friction. 

“God, don’t hold back now,” You teased, licking along his jaw as you ground down against him now. You wished you had worn the skirt, “I’m not gonna break, darling.”

He scoffed as you quoted him, the sound caught off by a groan as you pushed down again, biting on his neck at the same time. He gave in, rolling his hips against yours, finding a steady rhythm that was satisfying without being too obscene. 

Your hands found the buttons of his shirt, you easily opened them until his chest and stomach was fully exposed. When you pulled away, you could practically drooled over him. The beauty marks from his face were scattered across his torso. Dark constellations against a pale sky. Like his hands, his body was slender but not delicate. You ran your nails down his chest, tracing from one beautiful mark to the next. He watched your face as you chewed on your lower lip, fingers tracing the delicate trail of hair from his navel to the waist of his jeans.

“You’re gorgeous,” You couldn't help but to admit, he blushed under your scrutiny, eyes falling shut as you dragged your hand back up his chest. You gently wrapped your fingers around the base of his neck, not squeezing just holding. You felt his Adam's apple bob against your palm, “Such a pretty boy.”

“Not fair that I’m showing more skin than you,” He tried to joke, opening his eyes halfway, fingers moving under the hem of your shirt again. 

“You can just ask me to take my shirt off, ya know.” You teased, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his sternum, looking up at him through your lashes, “I mean, I kinda like being told what to do sometimes…only if you want to.”

He took a slow breath, you could practically see the gears turning as he thought of his next move. You rest your chin against his chest, still looking up at him expectantly. 

Finally he grabbed a fistfull of your, right at the base of your skull. You could feel both his desire and concern. You gave a small encouraging smile, urging him on. When he yanked, you let him pull you back with a gasp, the feeling making our head go fuzzy.

“That’s more like it,” You panted, head still tilted back, you looked down your nose at him, “Now, tell me what you want Pretty Boy.”

“Take your shirt off,” He nodded his chin at you, voice hesitantly firm,“Now. Please.”

“Still so polite,” You smiled, gripping the bottom of your shirt, “I appreciate it.”

When you pulled your shirt off, you made sure to give him a show. A reward for doing what you asked. You pushed your chest out, arching your back in a way that made your hips press down into his cock. When you were free of your shirt, you froze under his eyes. His jaw hung open slightly as he drank you in. His eyes traced every line and curve of your body. He was looking at you like you were a specimen, like he could learn so much just by studying your figure and form. You were happy to let him.

He reached out, fixing a rogue strand of hair on your head. The gesture was softer than you expected, making you pull in a shaky breath. He grabbed your hands, taking the shirt away and tossing it to the side. Gently he pulled your arms past his neck, encouraging you to lean into him. He kissed you, deep but soft. His cold hands moved up your back, fingers moving against your spine so delicately goosebumps rose across your skin. The sudden change in pace almost making you forget you were in a dingy garage and that he was a stranger. 

You realized you had completely abandoned your movements, hips still in his lap. The short seconds of tenderness made you panic. This was not the place and he was not the person.

You bit his lip again, hands tangling in his hair as you rocked your hips against him again. The layers between you dulling the feeling. He caught up to your pace, one hand moving around your side to grab at your chest, and the other wrapping around your waist, holding you close as you bucked up into you. You felt like you were gonna soak through your shorts. You dragged a hand down his front, letting your nails leave faint red lines on their way down. At the waist of his jeans, you tugged at the button undoing it easily.

“Is this okay?” You asked against his lips, wanting to be sure.

“Fuck yes, please.” He panted, hands moving up your back to hold onto your shoulder blades, practically bracing himself as you undid the zipper on his jeans, tugging them down enough to palm him through his boxers. 

He hissed at the contact, head falling onto your shoulder as you teased him. He bit down on your shoulder, hard enough to make you wince. You hoped it would bruise.

You grabbed his hair, pulling him off you and placing a kiss to his lips before shoving home back against the couch. 

“Tell me what to do.” You told him, sitting back a little, careful not to put too much weight on his bad leg. 

“Touch me.” It was more of a beg than a demand, but you appreciated the effort. 

You pulled him out of his boxers, sucking in a breath at the sight of him. Even his dick was pretty, the trail of hair you had touched earlier ended tidily at his base, a slight delicate curve up, perfect pink tip already leaking, precum dripping down his length. He was big too, certainly over average, almost to an intimidating degree. You could suppress a soft laugh at the thought that crossed your mind.

His face dropped in horror, “Absolutely not cool to laugh in this situation,” He choked out.

“I’m sorry!” You said, waving a hand at him, “It’s just…it’s always the skinny guys that are so big.” 

His face flamed red, he swallowed hard and looked to the side, “Shut up.”

“Well, I could,” You told him, tilting your head and taking the base of him in your hand. Your fingertips didn’t meet. He gasped, hands clinging to your thighs and eyes fluttering shut as you stroked him slowly, spreading precum over him. You rubbed your thumb over the slit at the tip, enamored with how he felt in your hand, “But then, I couldn’t tell you how perfect you are. Which I really want to do, ya know. I want to tell you that you have the most perfect cock I’ve ever seen.” He gasped, stomach muscles flexing as he twitched in your grasp, “I bet you taste amazing. So pretty and big, god, I love how you feel in my hand. I can’t wait to feel you inside me.”

“Ah, fuck .” He gasped, without hesitation he hands flew to the button of your shorts, yanking them open with desperation. 

You yelped, fingers brushing over your tummy in just a way to tickle you, “Hey, careful,” You joked, “I like these shorts.”

“I wish you were wearing a skirt,” He muttered, doing his best to focus on the button and zipper of your shorts with his dick still in your hand. 

“Tell me about it,” You rolled your eyes, cursing Lest. 

With your free hand, you helped him out, popping open the tight button. He didn’t waste a second in shoving his hand between your legs, feeling you through your underwear. You gasped at the simple contact, his hands cold against you. 

“God, you’re so fucking wet,” He growled, your hand gripping into his wrist, definitely leave crescent shaped nail marks on his skin, “This all for me, baby?”

You looked at him through hooded eyes, pleased with his sudden confidence boost. You nodded, jaw falling open as he pressed the tips of his fingers against your clit. 

“Fuck, yes, please,” You muttered, unable to form a proper sentence, “Need you so bad.”

You ground down against his fingers, not able to help yourself. You took him in your hand again, pumping your first and leaning forward to kiss him. Suddenly he froze, it only took half a second for you to follow suit.

“What?” You asked, fully present and incredibly worried you had done something wrong or hurt him.

“I… I don’t have a condom, fuck.” His jaw hung open, he looked like he had seen war.

“Oh, hm,” You sat back as his finger retreated from your shorts, “Wanna see a magic trick?”

“What?” His face contorted in confusion, your question throwing him completely for a loop.

“It’s a good one, I promise,” You giggled, letting go of him and sitting up on your knees, shorts sliding down your hips a little. 

You reached behind the couch, tits practically in Pretty Boy's face, despite the situation he took the opportunity to pull one of your nipples into his mouth, tongue swirling around the hard peak. You gasped, blinking through the feeling to resume your mission. You reached farther behind the couch, praying to any god that was spying in on you. You grinned when your fingertips found exactly what you wanted. You tried to sit back, but he held you where you were, not finished with you just yet. His hands squeezed your ass as his mouth traveled to the other breast, giving it the same attention. 

“Ah, fuck,” You grabbed his hair when you couldn't take anymore, pulling his mouth off you with a soft pop. 

You sat back on his lap, holding the condom up in front of you with a proud smile.

He tilted his head to the side, “Was that…behind the couch?”

“Yeah,” You laughed, mentally thanking Mel and her need to be fucked whenever she smoked, “Uh, this couch is…well worn in. It’s best not to think about it too much.”

He glanced at the fabric beneath him, nose scrunching. You held the condom out to him dramatically, “A gift for you, sir.”

“Thank you very very much, miss,” He replied, taking it from your hand, “now take those god forsaken shorts off.”

You scrambled off his lap, watching him intently as you wiggled your shorts off. The cuff was wide enough for you to step out of them without taking your shoes off. You stood between his spread knees in nothing but your underwear and high top sneakers. He looked like a deity, or maybe an angel, lazily leaning back against the couch. He opened the condom wrapper with his teeth, watching you as he rolled it down his length. You couldn’t help but stare, shirt split open, his cock laying pink and heavy against his pale stomach, you watched as he lifted his hips, pushing his boxers and jeans just a few more inches down his legs and then grabbed himself, giving a few slow strokes as he stared right back up at you.

“You’re-”

“You’re-”

You both started at the same time, making a laugh bubble out of your chest. 

“No, I get to say it this time,” He pouted, sitting up. His hands slid up the side of your thighs, all the way up to your waist before settling against your ass, the cheeky cut of your underwear giving him full access to your skin. He pressed his nose to your stomach, breathing in deeply before resting his chin against you, looking up at you, Pupils completely blown out, his irises the smallest amber rings, “You are so beautiful.”

 His teeth dug into the soft flesh, tongue smoothing over the redness when he let go, he continued this along your hips and down to the waist of your underwear, pulling back slightly to look at them. He traced a finger along the lacy edge.

“I love pretty things meant to be taken off,” He told you, looking up through his lashes.

When you didn’t say anything, he brought a hand down on your ass. Not hard enough to really hurt, but enough for you to gasp and straighten up. 

“What was that for?” You asked, blinking down at him with wide eyes. 

A grin split his face as he looked up at you, then he shrugged, “I don’t know, I just wanted to do it.”

“Okay, brat,” You rolled your eyes, and scoffed jokingly.

“Come here,” He laughed, grabbing your knees and pulling you down to straddle his lap again.

You braced your arms against the couch, caging his head in. You watched him lick his lips before sliding his hand between your things again, this time he pushed your underwear to the side. His fingers ran smoothly against you, traveling up and down your slit, stopping to rub slow circles around your clit. You couldn’t help the moans that slipped past your lips, eyes falling shut.

“No, look at me,” He told you, voice filled more with want than demand.

You blinked your eyes open, blushing as he watched your every move. You felt his fingers tease at your entrance, a question in his eyes. You gave a small nod and easily slipped two fingers into you. You cried out softly, forehead falling against his as you panted, curses falling from your mouth. He tilted his chin, kissing you as he curled his fingers against your walls, thumb pressing to your clit. 

“Fuck, fuck, oh fuck.” Your voice shook against his mouth, he smirked.

“Quite the vocabulary,” He teased you, fingers moving slowly in and out.

“Yeah, top of- ah!” You gasped when he separated his finger in you, stretching you wider, “Top of my english classes.”

“Oh I’m sure,” He snorted, and then kissed you as he pulled his fingers out and away from you, swallowing the whimpers you let out, “You said you wanted to feel me inside you right? Can’t keep my fingers in there at the same time.”

“You could certainly try,” You joked, brushing your hair out of your face. 

“Hm, maybe try taking just my cock first, yeah?” He asked, laughing softly.

“Will do,” You said seriously, watching as you studied your wetness on his fingers. Before you could protest, he put his fingers in his mouth, eyes on yours as he tasted you. Your face burned as his eyes fell shut, tongue swirling between the digits, groan coming from deep in his throat. 

He pulled you down, sighing as you ground down against him, finally free of the layers of fabric. His length slid smoothly between your folds, making both of you go dumb for a moment. Unable to wait any more he grabbed your hips, getting you to sit up a little higher on your knees. 

“Tell me if it hurts, okay?” He told you firmly, looking up at you for confirmation.

“Yeah, yes I will,” You promised, eagerness ripping at your insides. 

He lined himself up, tip teasing at your entrance. He watched your face as you sank down onto him, your lips parted and eyebrows furrowed.. He gasped as you took him in, unable to keep his jaw from hanging open, all his energy being used to keep his hips still until you were ready. He filled you in the most amazing way, stretching you more than probably anyone else. You wanted more of him, you needed all of him.

“Hey, I usually have stuff to help,” He told you, “You don’t have to go all-”

His own strangled cry cut him off as he bottomed out, your pelvis flush against his. You dropped your head to his shoulder panting heavily.

“Fuck, are you okay?” He asked, concern filling his voice, “You didn’t need to do that.”

You tilted your head back to look at him. His breath hitched at the sight of your face, pupils huge, cheeks red, lips swollen, looking completely fucked out all ready, “I wanted to, need all of you in me.”

“Ah, fuck.” He groaned, dropping his forehead against yours, his voice strained, “ Fuck , let me know when I can move.”

You kissed him, letting yourself adjust for a few more seconds before rocking against him. You lifted yourself into your knees a little, his cock sliding halfway out before you pushed back down. He whined, bucking up against you. When you were confident this wouldn’t result in a very embarrassing ER trip, you picked up your pace, sliding up and down on him. The feeling sent sparks across every muscle in your body, you licked into his mouth, trying to quiet your moans as much as possible. He jerked up into you, throwing off your rhythm for a moment. 

When you found the movement together, though? You swear you had died and gone to some filthy sticky version of heaven. You cried out, clinging to his shoulders. He wrapped an arm around your waist to steady you, the other on the back of your thigh helping you move with him. 

“Ah, fuck baby, feels so good,” He moaned, biting and licking at your jaw, muttering, “cítíte se skvěle, naprosto dokonale.”

You could have taken him for hours, drunk on the ways his hands moved over you, obsessed with the feeling of his cock filling you up. He bit down on your collar bone, you couldn't be bothered to care about the mark he was definitely going to leave. The way he twitched inside you made your entire core tighten up, your walls crushing around him.

He gasped, hand moving between your thighs. He began rubbing your clit, helping you regain the pace when you faltered. You grabbed him by the hair, yanking his head back to kiss him again. It was messy and rough, your teeth tapping together as you devoured each other, tongues invading every area of flesh. 

“Come for me, Lasko,” He begged, pumping into you harder, fingers working against you fast, He licked into your mouth, arm around your waist tightening, “Come on my cock like a good girl.”

The feeling of him , against your clit, inside of you, his hands and mouth and breath and spit. It all pushed you closer, and closer to the edge. Every muscle in your body tightened and then released with the most intense pulsing.

“Good girl,  so good for me,”  He practically cried, taking his hand away from your clit, but fucking you through your climax. 

The stuttering of his hips told you he wasn’t far behind. You kept up your movements, ignoring the overstimulation as you continued to slide in and out. You clenched around him involuntarily, finally drawing it out of him. With a whimpering moan he came, both arms wrapping around your waist and his head buried in your chest. He gave a few more stuttering bucks as he filled the condom. You dropped your cheek against the top of his head, both of you breathing like you had just run a marathon. 

He pressed a kiss to the base of your throat, still clinging to you, all his muscles suddenly useless. You brushed your fingers through his hair, dragging your nails across his scalp gently. He pulled back, hands moving up and down your back. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, looking up into your eyes.

“I’m great,” You told him, a soft laugh passing your lips. He flinched, the tensing of your muscles around him way too much to handle. He lifted your hips up, pulling his softening dick out of you. You winced at the sudden emptiness, “Are you good?”

He readjusted your underwear and pressed a kiss to your lips, “I’m perfect, amazing even,” He smiled, you were grateful he was still kind after cumming.

He held onto your waist, leaning you backwards as you reached for something on the table. He pulled back a metal water bottle, offering it to you. You took it gratefully, it was cold and heavy and in your eyes might as well have been holy water. You unscrewed the lid and tilted it back, drinking from it for a few long seconds. He smiled at you fondly, brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. You wiped your mouth on the back of your hand and handed it over to him, watching his tired face as he drank. Still pretty.

Now back in the real world, you realized how exposed you were. You glanced over your shoulder at the unlocked garage door, the sound of music and people still coming faintly from the house. Pretty Boy reached over and grabbed the borrowed t-shirt, turning it right side out and giving it to you. You pulled it on, content to be covered again. He pulled your face to his, kissing you slowly. His tongue tasted like you and was cold from the water. He kissed the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then your neck. All gentle.

When you pulled away, he tilted his head at the frown on your lips, “What’s wrong, Lasko?” You were dying to know what that meant. You were also dying to stay with him. To go back to wherever he lived and never leave his bed. Fuck it, even locking the garage door and staying here forever would work for you. But the others would be looking for you at some point, if they weren't already. 

“I should probably go,” The sadness in your voice betraying you.

“Do you want to go?” He asked, all sincerity. 

“No,” You scoffed, unable to lie while he looked at you with all the trust in the world, “But I have to. My roommate is probably looking for me, I was definitely gone a little longer than I said I would.”

“Hm, okay,” He brushed your hair behind your ear again, fingers lingering against your cheek. 

You kissed him again, just softly on the lips, before standing up. Your whole body ached, but the joints and muscles of your legs were impossibly stiff. You groaned, stretching your whole body up until your spine cracked with a satisfying pop. 

“Ah, nice,” He complimented, stretching out his own back. 

You bent down stretching your legs as you reached for your toes, a swift smack on your ass made you gasp, “Rude,” You scolded, standing back up.

“I’m just a man,” He said dramatically, making you roll your eyes as you stepped back into your shorts. He peeled the condom off, cringing as he tied it up and wrapped it in a paper towel, setting it on the ground, “I will deal with that in a second.”

“Yeah don’t forget it,” You warned, holding back a laugh.

He lifted his hips pulling his jeans and boxers back up and tucking himself away, “I’d have to drop out or kill myself… maybe both.”

“That’s fair honestly,” You nodded, watching his pretty hands button up his shirt. You missed them on you already. 

“You’re heading out?” He asked, though it sounded more like, ‘please don’t head out’.

“Unfortunately,” You leaned over him, hands on the back of the couch caging him in, you pressed your forehead this, “Thank you for a very good start to the semester, I appreciate it.”

“Likewise,” He punctuated his words with a kiss, lips slotting against yours, tasting you one last time. When you pulled away, he opened his mouth to say something, then sighed, “Have a goodnight, get home safely.”

“Will do,” You kissed the top of his head and turned around. You didn’t look at him as you walked to the door, knowing you’d walk right back to that couch. 

Outside, the summer air was practically freezing in comparison to how you felt minutes ago. You straightened your clothes and smoothed your hair as you walked back towards the house, music growing louder as you approached. When you put your hand on the handle of the sliding back door, you froze.

Every cell in your body was screaming at you to turn around. To walk back into the garage, ask for his name, his number, his hand in marriage. All of the crazy thoughts that come with really really good sex. You looked at your fingers wrapped around the handle, imagining them against his cheek. You could still feel him on your skin, against your lips. 

Why didn’t you ask his name? You wanted to beat yourself up. It would have taken two seconds, it would have been normal. More normal than not asking his name, honestly. Who does that? Who fucks someone who’s name they don’t even know. You needed to know.

Just as you released the handle and stepped away from the door, it slid open loudly, making you jump. Music poured out of the house, overwhelmingly loud. Lest stood in front of you, perfect face creased with stress and her bag on her shoulder.

“Where have you been?” She snapped at you, and then took a deep breath, calming herself, “You scared me half to death! You left your phone, I was actually on the verge of calling the cops.”

Dramatic as always, it was what you loved about her, “I’m sorry, I was just in the garage. Why didn’t you come get me?” Thank you, thank you, thank you for not coming to get me, you thought.

“What? Jayce said he saw you come back in the house?” She frowned, grabbing your wrist and pulling you inside, you stood close to the cold glass as she spoke.

“It must have been someone else,” You shrugged and reached out for her arm to calm her, but dropped your hand when you realized you should probably wash them first, “I’m sorry, I didn’t even realize I didn’t have my phone on me.”

Lest sighed, “It’s okay, I’m just glad you're okay.”

You have no idea how ok I am, you thought, laughing to yourself.

“What?” She asked tilting her head, “Are you high? Were you smoking by yourself?”

“Nothing, I, yeah, I was.” You lied, hoping she couldn’t tell.

“That's- you shouldn’t do that,” She scolded, “It’s dangerous…and sad.”

You gasped, punching her shoulder gently, “Hey, there is nothing wrong with a little alone time.”

“Okay, whatever you say, freak.” She said, trying to hide her smile.

“Were you wanting to go home?” You asked, remembering that she was holding her bag. You looked around the house, people were definitely leaving, but it wasn’t odd for you and Lest to hang out with Jayce and Cait and the others until it was just your friend group, fighting sleep in favor of each other's company. 

“Oh, uh, yeah,” She looked sheepish, “I don’t feel super great. I know it’s still kind of early for us, I don’t mind going home by myself if you don’t want to leave.”

If you stayed, you could go back to Pretty Boy in the garage…

“Nah, I’m down to go home,” You told her, praising yourself for showing even a modicum of self restraint, “We Ubering or walking?”

“Oh cool, Ubering for sure,” She nodded with wide eyes. 

You laughed, “Good, I'm gonna go say bye, I’ll meet you outside?”

“Eh, you might just want to text them,” Lest cringed, “Jayce and Mel already snuck off to his room and Cait and Vi we’re only sticking around down here to keep the place from burning down. Not like either would notice with the way they were sucking face.”

“Ew, don’t say that,” You stuck your tongue out at the childish phrase.

You followed her through the house, grabbing your bag on the way out. When you sat on the curb to smoke a cigarette and wait for your ride, you couldn't help but to glance at the front door. Hoping every time it opened it would be Pretty Boy, leaving the stuffy party to catch his own Uber home. Or maybe walk if he lived close enough. Maybe you’d offer him a drag and ask his name. Maybe he’d have a different girl on his arm. Maybe you would both pretend to not recognize each other. 

Luckily, he never gave you the chance to find out.

Chapter Text

Waking up on Saturday was…difficult, to say the least.  After spending the summer mostly sober, save for the occasional drink with your dad or joint by yourself, your body was not prepared for the previous night's substance intake. You felt grimy when you came to in your bed. Your skin sticky from sweat, your mouth dryer than all hell, and your brain felt like it had been shaken in a jar. Laying there, face in your pillow, the pros and cons of climbing out of bed tumbled around your head.

You decided that if it was before noon, you’d allow yourself a few more hours of sleep, otherwise you had to get up. Blindly you stuck a hand onto the counter at the head of your bed, knocking things left out from last night around until you found your phone. The bright screen made your temple pulse when you clicked it on.

12:01.

You dropped your head and groaned into the pillow. A deal was a deal, though, even with yourself. You gave yourself grace as you sat up in bed, looking around your tiny double dorm room. Bright light shone around the edge of the blinds, making you squint. Clothes were still scattered around your side, your hightops dropped haphazardly on the floor, not far from your shorts. You had barely managed to piss, brush your teeth, and put on clean underwear before knocking out last night. You could still feel what little makeup you had on last night smeared around your eyes. All of your pre-made plans to hydrate and clean up before going to bed were abandoned as soon as you set foot into your room. 

Lest on the other hand, looked like a princess in her bed. Washed hair in two braids, fresh pjs on, and her trusty sleep mask covering her eyes. She even layed like a princess, flat on her back with her hands folded on her stomach. You envied her discipline for hygiene even when drunk. 

You slid out of bed. Bracing yourself on the frame with a groan when your stomach flipped. Lest didn’t even flinch, she slept both like a princess and a log. You left on the clothes you slept in, wrapped a towel around your waist, and gathered your shower bag. First order of business was to clean up, because even one more minute of feeling like you were covered in a film of alcohol and smoke and you were gonna peel your skin off. 

The shared hallway was aggressively bright, but fortunately empty. You were sure you couldn’t handle an awkward ‘on the way to the shower’ run in with a hallmate right now. You’d probably throw up on the carpet. Luckily on a well weathered first Saturday of the semester, the hall was virtually abandoned. Which also meant that the only single user bathroom on your side of the building was free.

You leaned heavily against the closed door, eyes screwed shut as you fought back the wave of nausea that came with your short walk. With your eyes closed you found the automatic light switch, pushing the button to shut the lights down. The frosted window let in just enough light to see without burning your eyes out. You hung up your things and started the shower, knowing it would take a while for it to warm up. 

You took that time to brush your teeth, sick of the grit that lined your mouth. When you saw yourself in the mirror you couldn't help but to cringe. You were a wreck. The makeup around your eyes was worse than you imagined, smeared completely around your eyes in an intense racoon mask. Your hair was half out of the scrunchie you had pulled it into on the way home, hanging awkwardly on your neck. As you brushed your teeth, you tilted your head at the borrowed shirt realizing something off about it. You frowned at it in the mirror, trying to make out what the writing said. Whatever it was, it wasn’t Metallica. You spit in the sink and set your toothbrush to the side before pulling the shirt over your head. It didn’t say Metallica, it said Mozart in the Metallica font. 

You snorted a laugh, “Jayce, what the fuck?” Folding the shirt up, you shoved it into your bag, hoping you'd remember to wash it with your laundry. When you caught a glimpse of your bare torso in the mirror, you froze. 

Memories of last night came flooding back as you stared at the red marks scattered across your body. An unsteady line of hickeys connected one hip bone to the other,  a few were splayed up across your stomach and in a cluster across your chest. There was even one framed by a perfect bite mark on the top of your shoulder. 

“God damn…” You muttered, turning in the mirror in search of more. While you didn’t find any more hickeys sucked into your skin, you did find thin bruises on the sides of both your thighs from his fingers digging into your flesh. 

You stepped closer to the mirror, ghosting your fingertips over the marks. You couldn’t help but shudder at the memory of his hands on you. You could still feel him against you, his lips, his tongue, his teeth. You gripped the edge of the sink, willing the thoughts away. It was a hookup with a stranger who’s name wasn’t even known to you. It wasn’t going to happen again. 

Despite that fact, you thought of him in the shower until the water ran cold.

Lest was awake when you made it back to your room. In the time it took you to shower she had managed to get dressed, make both herself and you coffee and frozen breakfast sandwiches, clean up your side of the room, and get the first season of Love Island up on your TV. She was stirring creamer into her coffee when you came in.

“Good morning,” You said, locking your door behind you, “How long have you been up?”

“Like, 45 minutes,” She said, setting the creamer to the side for you, “Were you in the shower that whole time?”

“Er, yeah, sorry. I wanted to shave,” You lied, a little surprised at how long you had actually been gone. You hoped Lest wouldn’t notice that you definitely had not shaved.

You dressed quickly. You and Lest had never been shy about changing in front of each other, but right now you had yourself angled awkwardly against your closet, praying to god she didn’t catch a glimpse of the love bites you were sporting. Luckily you managed to pull on a tshirt and sweats without her noticing. It’s not like you needed to hide from her, you usually told her everything as soon as it happened, but this time you wanted to keep it to yourself. At least for a little bit. You knew she’d have something, probably valid, to say about the complete unknown of the man you had sex with. She’d scold you on how dangerous it was and drag you to the health center to get tested for an STD.

“How’re you feeling?” She asked as you made up your coffee.

“A little like I was hit by a truck,” You shrugged, putting the cream away in your tiny fridge, “But I’ve definitely felt worse. You?”

“Better than I thought I would,” Lest told you, starting the show, “I didn’t drink much towards the end, and I didn’t smoke at all so I guess it makes sense.”

“You’re lucky,” You joked, climbing into bed with your coffee and breakfast, “We’re still doing nothing today right?”

“Oh, for sure .” Lest said nodding with wide eyes, “This is probably the last weekend we’ll be able to actually push homework off. Everything can wait until tomorrow.”

“Works for me,” You nodded, sipping your coffee and tuning into the trashy reality show you and Lest were hooked on.

You realized pretty quickly that all the gorgeous men and women and unhealthy relationships in the world wouldn’t distract you enough. You had figured post your incredibly long shower you’d be free of Pretty Boy, that the memory of him would ebb away. No luck.

By the time Micheal had been cast out of the Villa, you had managed to replay last night's events a hundred times in your head. It wasn’t just the sex that you were hyper focused on, it was every second you were near him. You kept thinking about how he looked in the kitchen, the way the lights moved over his skin and hair. The fact that even in the dark his eyes were still so bright and warm. You could hear  the lilt of his accent in your head, all the words he said to you, all the things he called you. 

What really stuck with you was how soft it all had been. How gentle and kind he had been with you. The way his voice sounded when he asked if you were leaving. How much you wished you had said no. This was going to haunt you for at least a week, you knew it would. You were preparing for it to be a very hard and very unfocused week.

Lest called you out a few times during the lazy afternoon, questioning your mental absence from the shared room. You brushed her off with excuses of exhaustion and nausea. You could tell she was worried, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell her. Eventually, not many hours after waking up, you let yourself fall asleep to the thought of his lips on yours.

On Sunday you woke up well before the sun, thanks to your early bedtime. You stared up at the ceiling, willing yourself back to sleep, but as your room slowly turned from pitch black into grey tones you knew it wasn’t going to happen. Quietly you pulled yourself out of bed and got ready for the day. It was barely even six by the time you were finished getting ready, but you were restless. Scribbling a note for Lest, you left your dorm. 

There was a time when you’d go on a walk before the sun was fully up every morning. It was when you enjoyed campus the most. The cold and quiet of it was comforting, it felt like home. Almost completely deserted at this hour. The only souls you ever saw this early were the landscapers, perfecting the small campus before the day began, and the occasional early rising professor walking a beloved campus dog. On a Sunday, though, it was truly empty. 

You wandered without really knowing where you were going, you let your feet remember the familiar path they once took so frequently. The sun barely peeked over the line of trees and brick buildings, casting long shadows over the quad. Dew grayed the grass, evaporating where the sun touched it. Eventually you reached the flower garden nestled between the two original buildings of the campus. You settled on a cold stone bench, the dedication plaque so worn it was nearly unreadable. 

You looked around the garden. The variety of flowers were in full bloom as the summer came to a close, each one tended to with great care. It was a sacred place on campus, for everyone. It was where most students had been introduced to the school, the garden being the meeting spot for all campus tours. During both matriculation and graduation, students paraded through it. The flowers were both a beautiful welcome and a bittersweet goodbye to those who chose Piltover for their education. It was impossible not to love it.

You sighed and picked at a patch of lichen on the edge of the bench. Remembering what else you used to do on these early walks, another habit you regretfully fell out of. You dragged your knees up to your chest and pulled your phone from your hoodie pocket. Your fingers were on autopilot as they navigated to your contacts.

It rang only once.

“Good morning Buddy,” Your dad’s voice was warming even through the phone.

“Good morning,” You said, leaning your cheek against your knee, “How are you?”

“I’m good, just getting ready to head out on the boat,” You could hear him shuffling around as he spoke. You could picture him, preparing for the day in the kitchen, “How are you? You’re up pretty early.”

“Working on a Sunday? That’s unlike you,” You joked, it was actually very like him, “I fell asleep early last night, couldn't go back to bed.”

“No, actually, not working today,” You heard the front door of your house open and close, “I’m headed out with the guys. The weathers going to be good for some deep fishing, today.”

“Oh good, that’ll be nice. I hope the catch is good,” You were glad he was taking time for himself, “Send me pictures if you get anything cool.”

“Of course buddy,” He laughed, you heard his truck start up, “Wait, so you went to bed early on a Saturday night? When did you become so boring?”

You scoffed, “Excuse me, are you mad that I am a responsible adult?”

“That’s not what I said!” He assured you.

“Yeah sure,” You rolled your eyes but smiled anyways, “Besides, it was friday night that I was out until three in the morning, rest assured I am certainly not boring.”

“Hm, okay,” He was quiet for a moment, “You’re making good decisions, I hope? Staying safe .”

You groaned at the implications of his words, embarrassed that they weren't actually that far off. He didn’t need to know that, though.

“ Yes Dad, I am making perfectly fine decisions,” You half lied to him.

“Good to know. I’m too young to be a grandfather.”

“Ew,” You fake gagged, “Don’t say stuff like that.”

He laughed on the other end. It had been a week and a half since you saw him last, but you already missed the sound of him laughing, “How was your first week of classes?”

“Good,” You told him, “So far at least. I mean, it's the first week and I already have a good amount of homework to do, which sucks, but I think I can handle it.”

“Yeah, you’ve got this, though,” He assured you, never not confident in your abilities, “You always do. What classes are you taking again?”

“I have two envi-sci classes right now, one with a lab, a chemistry class with a lab, and I’m taking an Asian American Lit class, to keep myself from going crazy in the science building.” You told him, thinking about your particularly heavy science schedule, “I’m trying to switch chemistry classes, though. There's a smaller class with a…better professor. Not that my current professor is bad, it’s just that Heimerdinger is, like, the best professor here. I’d like to take at least one class with him. I’m on the waiting list.”

“Sounds like a good schedule. I’m glad you're taking a non-science class, it’ll be good for your brain,” He told you, “And I’ll cross my fingers you get into that class you want.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.” You laughed, at this point you didn’t have much hope for getting in, but you could always try next semester.

“Hey, has your mom talked to you?” The question made you groan. 

“No, why?” You didn’t particularly want to talk to her, not since her 2nd remarriage last summer. 

“She called the other day and asked if she could have you for Christmas this year?” He was treading carefully, “I think you should.”

‘What? No way,” You answered immediately, offended at the idea that you would want to do that, “First of all, I’m not 15 anymore, neither of you get to have me, I can decide where I want to go for breaks. And second, Why would I want to spend break in Arizona with her child groom and his infant children?”

He was, clearly, not a child groom. Paul was 35, but in comparison to your mother’s age- 45- he might as well be a teenager. His kids weren’t infants either, 9 & 14, but, again, they might as well have been. 

“Hey, I know, I trust you to make your own decisions, but I also know that you’ve developed a lot of anger recently with your mom,” He sighed, “I don’t want you to have a bad relationship with her your whole life, it’s not healthy.”

“Really milking those two years of psychology undergrad, huh,” You joked bitterly. Your dad would have been the best therapist in the world if he had finished school. Your surprise arrival put an end to that half dream instantly. He never resented you for it. 

“I’m serious, buddy,” His voice was calm, urging you to be open, “It wouldn’t have to be for the whole break, just a couple days around Christmas. If you want to spend the rest of the time here with me you can, obviously. Just think about it?”

“Fine…I’ll think about it,” You pouted, he could convince you of anything, “But no promises.”

“Thank you, sorry for springing this on you right now.” You could hear chatter somewhere behind him, he was probably at the docks by now.

“It’s okay, sorry for being a brat about it,” You laughed softly.

“You’d be nothing without your attitude,” He teased, in the background you could hear someone calling his name.

“I get it from you,” That wasn’t entirely true, you and him both knew it, “But hey, I’ll let you go, sounds like you’re needed.”

“Yeah, the guys just showed up,” He admitted, “I can tell them to wait for a bit though if you want to keep talking?”

“Nah, it’s okay,” You insisted, checking the time, “I should probably go, anyways. Me and Lest are gonna go work on homework in a bit.”

“Okay, no problem,” He told you, you wished you could talk to him all day, you wished you were going fishing with him, “I’m proud of you, buddy, and I love you so much.”

“Love you too, Dad,” You said, trying to hold back tears, “Have fun out there, be safe.”

“Always am. Tell Lest I say hello for me, Love you.” He let you hang up the phone. 

You wrapped your arms around your legs and buried your head in your knees, unable to hold back the sobs. You let yourself cry. You didn’t think this was how you’d start your morning, but it was fine. Almost cathartic in a way, to let yourself be sad about something as childish as missing your dad who was only a day. You knew it was fine and very normal, but it still felt immature. Regardless, you let yourself cry until Lest finally texted you.

The rest of the day was just as unexpected. When you headed back to your dorm Lest had just started to get ready. You laid in your bed, scrolling through your phone until she was ready. In the hour or so it took her to shower, get dressed, and gather her school work, the weather took a drastic change. You had wanted to lay out on the quad and do work, but the soft sunny sky was full of clouds now, all threatening rain. Instead, you and Lest headed to the small coffee shop on campus. Here it was much harder to focus. You camped out at a table in the corner, despite this everyone who knew you or her came over to chat. Meaning the amount of work you finished was…disappointing, to say the least. 

Then, due to the cafe's short Sunday hours, you had to relocate once again. At the overly polite requests of the baristas, you packed up and hauled off to the library. You wished you had come here in the first place. It was pretty much vacant this time of day and you and Lest set up in the quiet section, assuring no one would bother you even if they wanted to. Workflow was steady now, you managed to knock out one assignment after another. In the quiet of the library you were even able to focus on your textbook readings enough to take notes. 

As the afternoon began to turn to evening and the library began to fill up, you were finally in the home stretch. Lest was on her last set of practice questions for her math class and you had one more reading and a chemistry practice test to do. You’d probably be back to your room within the hour. You opened up the practice test, determined to get everything done. 

It was harder than you had expected. Some of the questions were fairly basic, things you knew from level one and even highschool chemistry, and there were a few that took a little effort but were fresh in your head from last semester. Almost half the questions, though, were questions that were completely foreign to you. You could make out bits and pieces of it in your brain. Some questions gently touched by your previous professors and others that you could make shaky assumptions on. You tried to remind yourself that this was a practice test for a reason, but the shitty score you knew would show at the end still bothered you. In the end you got 65%. 

You opened up your email to check for submission confirmation before moving on to the reading. A recent message at the top of the box made you pause. You read it quickly once, twice, three times. 

“I’m off the wait list,” You told Lest, flinching when someone at a nearby table shushed you.

“What?” She whispered, leaning closer to see your laptop.

“I’m off the wait list for chem,” You whispered back, opening up the class portal and accepting the offer.

“I thought you were in a chem class already?” She raised an eyebrow at you.

“Yeah, but I got into the class with the professor I actually want,” You explained, wishing you could be more excited than the setting allowed. 

“Oh, that's…good,” You could tell she didn’t quite get it, but wanted to be happy for you anyways.

“Yes, it’s very good,” You laughed, pushing your chair away from the table, “and as a reward, I’m gonna go piss.”

“Babe, please don’t give yourself a UTI because you only pee after academic success,” Lest jokingly begged, rubbing the space between her eyebrows.

You couldn’t hold back a laugh as you walked away from the table, ignoring the dirty looks from other tables. You were thrilled, a class with Heimerdinger genuinely opened up a world of connections. He knew scientists in every field all over the world. Of course, as the dean of the science department, he was willing to help any student make connections, but it was definitely easier if you were in his class. You were so happy about this, you didn’t mind that the practice test you just spent an hour on was for a class you were about to drop. 

You pulled out your phone, shooting off a text to your dad.

Got into the class I wanted! Thx 4 crossing ur fingers

He responded immediately.

Yay… that’s great, happy for you… wanna see the catch today?

You shook your head at the ellipses habit he refused to break. Such an old man.

TY!!! Yes obvi. Fish Now. 

He sent back a photo of himself and one of the older guys he fished with holding an impressively sized mahi mahi.

Omg mahi this late in the szn is craaazzyyy, very jealous

You couldn’t help the pang of sadness that bloomed in your chest. Missing your dad intensely for the second time that day.

Yeah, me and the guys were surprised for sure…I got go, talk to you later?

Oki!

Love you Buddy

Love u toooo

You slammed into someone in your distraction as you hit send. The apology coming out of your mouth only made it halfway, your mind and body freezing up at the flash of chestnut hair and pale skin above you. 

“Woah, watch it.” The guy, who you realized a second later was not in fact Pretty Boy, snapped at you.

“Sorry,” Your voice came out like a squeak, you cleared your throat, speaking louder, “Sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, it’s…uh it’s fine,” Not Pretty Boy said, looking down at you oddly, “Are you okay?”

You realized you were staring at him, studying all the ways in which he wasn’t Pretty Boy. Too stocky, face too round, hair too long, eyes a dull green. 

“Uh, yeah. I’m fine, sorry,” You shook your head, stepping past him as you apologized again.

You hurried off to the restroom, face burning as you locked yourself into a stall. You had managed to keep him out of your head all day. You dressed without looking at the marks he left behind, you kept your mind busy with work and thoughts of your family situation, you barely even acknowledged the fact that you had a body. 

And now after all that work, here you were, unable to think about anything besides him. You groaned and thumped your head against the stall door, knowing he’d be inescapable for the rest of the night. 

You stared at your hand on your leg, fingers digging into the bruises under your jeans. You had set your book down for the hundredth time, barely halfway through the reading, distracted again.  Every time you tried to read the words on the page, you wouldn’t get far. Unable to process any of the information you were looking at. It all felt like a different language. You could feel his hands pressing into your legs, his lips on your neck, accent in your ears.

Something hitting your forehead made you jump, startling you out of the daydream.

“Earth to struggling student,” Lest whispered, crumpling another sticky note and launching it at you.

You swatted the yellow paper away, frowning at her, “What?”

“Girl, where have you been this weekend?” Lest hissed, leaning across the table, eyebrows furrowed, “You’ve been weird ever since Jayce’s party. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” You shrugged.

“Okay, liar,” She deadpanned, rolling her eyes, “What’s up?”

“Nothing!” You insisted, rifling the pages of your book. 

She stared at you, blink her big eyes expectantly. At this point, she wasn’t going to give up.

“I hooked up with someone at the party” You muttered, not looking at her.

“What?” She gasped, ignoring the looks from other tables. She stood and took the seat next to you, pulling her chair close and leaning in, “When?”

“When I went to wash my top in the garage,” You told her, chewing on your lip, “I wasn’t exactly smoking alone,”

“Oh my god!” She squeaked, eyes wide, “You fucked someone in Jayce and Cait’s garage??”

“Shhh,” You placed a palm over her mouth, worried about wandering ears, “Be quiet, I don’t need the whole student body to know.”

She just blinked at you over the top of your hand, waiting.

“Yeah, in the garage,” You could feel your face getting hot.

“Did you guys… like, get a home run? Or only make it to 3rd base?” She raised an eyebrow.

“What are you? 12?” You scoffed, glancing sideways as you told her, “...home run.”

“Good girl!” She punched you lightly on the arm, “Wait, that’s why you’ve been so spacy? You’ve been thinking about your little garage escapade all weekend?”

“Lest, you don't get it,” You insisted, “It was, like, amazing. Quite possibly the best sex I have ever had in my entire life. Like, honeymoon waited until marriage but somehow still perfect at it kind of sex.”

“No way,”

“Yes way, bitch,” You said, raising your eyebrows at her, “yes fucking way.”

“Damn…” She stared down at the table, then quirked her head to the side, “Who?”

There it was, the reason you hadn’t told her as soon as it happened.

“Um, well…” You hesitated. Lest narrowed her eyes at you, you could see her mind scrolling the list of possibilities. You cringed, “I don’t exactly know.”

Lest gaped at you, “What?”

“We were both high,” You admitted sheepishly, “And kind of caught up with other things. Names didn’t come up.”

“Are you crazy?”

“He was nice!” You defended, “Like, so fucking nice.”

“That is so dangerous!” She scolded, more concerned than mad, “Did you use a condom?”

“Christ, Lest, of course,” You rolled your eyes, “I’m not dumb.”

“I know, but you said you were high,” She shrugged, “Just wanted to make sure I didn’t need to find a way to squeeze a crib into our dorm.” 

“Twenties pregnancy is no joke,” You told Lest, trying to hold your face straight as long as you could before the corners of your mouth cracked upwards. 

“Damn, so great sex guy is anonymous,” She sighed, “That’s kind of a bummer. He goes here right?”

“He said he did,” You told her, “That’d be an odd thing to lie about, right?”

“Yeah, well, maybe you’ll see him at another party?” She said, hopeful.

“Yeah, maybe,” You sighed, “I don’t know, it was so good I almost don’t want to do it again.”

“That makes zero sense,” she scrunched her nose.

“I mean, I fucked this guy once for, like, an hour.” You explained, “And he is all I’ve been able to think about for the past two days. Do I really want to do this again?”

“Well, if you make it a habit ,” She offered.

“I don’t know,” You sighed, shaking your head, “It sucks, but I think it’s better if it doesn't happen again. I don’t think my grades could handle it.” You waved the book you had tried and failed to read for the past hour. 

“Skill issue.” She shrugged, shutting her laptop, “Do you have to finish that reading tonight? I wanna get dinner.”

“Uh, thanks Lest, very cool,” You scoffed, rolling your eyes at her joke, “And I’m not going to be able to anyways. I’ll finish it before class tomorrow.”

“Okay good,” Lest said, standing and stretching her arms over her head, “I’ll get us Thai if you promise details .”

“Hm, you know, I’m not against trading my secrets for pad thai and mango rice,” You laughed, packing your stuff up.

Clasping her hands together she determined, “This is, like, better than Love Island.” 

You just scoffed, shaking your head at her.

As thrilled as you were to be taking Heimerdinger's class, there was one tiny drawback. It was your first and only seven am. You had managed four whole semesters of not having to be in a class until at least nine. That was very much on purpose, because dragging yourself out of bed at five in the morning was not your idea of a good start to the day. 

As much as you wanted to skip past your first alarm and show up to class unshowered and in sweatpants, you figured that wasn’t the most professional first impression to make on the dean. So you got up like a good student. You took your time getting ready and double checking that you had everything you’d need for your two classes of the day, preferring to not haul back to the dorm between them. You had correctly calculated enough time to stop at the cafe on the way to grab coffee with a higher caffeine content than what you could make in your room. 

There were quite a few seven am classes available, but given that you were over 30 minutes early, the halls of the science building were still fairly deserted. A few offices were lit up and some classrooms had TAs setting up for the day, but not much student presence yet. When you found the room the schedule had directed you to, you were pleased to see it was empty. It’d be easier to talk to who you considered the most intimidating professor on campus without an audience.

The classroom was small, but you knew the lab attached through a door at the back would be much bigger. Professor Heimerdinger was sitting behind the desk at the front, fidgeting with the desktop computer. You knocked on the doorframe to get his attention.

“Good morning Professor Heimerdinger,” You greeted, stepping partially into the room as you told him your name, “I was on the waitlist until last night, I wasn’t sure if they told you I had moved off of it.”

“Oh! Good morning, dear,” He beamed from under his impressively large mustache, moving away from the computer, “Yes, it was mentioned that there may be a change in the roster. I’m glad you were able to move up from the waitlist. Welcome.”

“Thank you,” You smiled, you had never been in the same room as the esteemed man, only ever seen him give speeches or in passing around campus, you walked over to his desk, “I’m also glad to be here, I’ve been looking forward to taking one of your classes. I’ve heard great things.”

“That’s very kind of you to say,” He walked around his desk and extended a hand up towards you. Due to his short stature you had to bend just slightly at the waist to return the gesture, “I’m glad to have you in class, your name is familiar. Are you acquaintances with Mr. Jayce Talis, by chance?”

You knew Jayce had been lucky enough to score Heimerdinger as his advisor and close mentor, you were surprised he had mentioned you, though.

“Yes, actually, Jayce is a very close friend of mine,” You told him, trying to hide a nervous laugh, “Has he been speaking of me?”

“Only good things, my dear,” He said, picking up on your anxiety, “I assure you.”

“Good to know,” You laugh, hoping it wasn’t too loud in the small space, “Thank you, again, I am really grateful for the opportunity to be in your class.”

“Well of course,” He told you, moving back around his desk as he spoke, “Have you been able to acquire the reading materials for the class?”

“I ordered the textbook last night,” You explained, “I should have it by the end of the week. I’m sure I can borrow a copy from a classmate for the time being.”

“No need, I have an extra copy you are welcome to use until yours arrives,” He pulled a dense book from under his desk, “It’s an earlier edition, though, so just be sure that you read the correct sections.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” You took the worn book, he also handed you a printed syllabus, “Was there reading for today? I could try to get some of it done before class starts.”

“Last week’s schedule became a little jumbled due to my being under the weather, so the first reading is due next class, if you would like to review the syllabus and schedule before class, you will be all caught up,” He explained. You couldn’t describe the relief this gave you, “We only met for one class last week, so you aren’t behind, but the class has already been divided into groups for the semester. I apologize that you were not here for the grouping. I allow students to choose who they work with, so if you see someone you know feel free to join their group.”

“Okay, thank you.” You nodded and turned to find a seat.

As Heimerdinger returned back to his computer, you set up in the corner of the room. The syllabus was fairly basic, but gave a good explanation of the Professor’s expectations. You were sure this wasn’t going to be an easy class, but you were also sure you’d enjoy the challenge. The only thing that was making you anxious was the fact that  none of the students that showed up were familiar to you. You watched as the clock ticked closer and closer to seven, your knee bouncing under the table. You tried to distract yourself by skimming through the borrowed textbook, settling on a random section to pass the time with.

You were halfway through the chapter about asymmetric oxidation and reduction when a newer copy of the book was dropped on the table in front of you with a bang. You jumped, looking up in surprise.

“Hey stranger,” Jinx smirked down at you, nodding at your book,“Pretty impressive reading pace you’ve got there.”

“Jinx!” You stood, wrapping your arms around her, “I didn’t know you were in this class.”

“Ekko is too, he’ll be here in a minute,” She told you as you settled into your seats, the room was busy now, “Were you on the waitlist?”

“Yeah, this class was a bitch to get into,” You frowned, then realized something, “Wait, how did you get in? You’re a sophomore this year right? This is an upperclassmen class.”

She laughed sheepishly, shrugging, “Ha, well you know, nepotism isn't always bad.”

“No way, Silco got you in? You lucky bitch,” You gasped, but were not surprised that her dad, who happened to be a well respected professor in the business program, had managed to get her into a higher level class. 

“Yeah, and Ekko,” She pulled the rest of her things from her bag, blowing a strand of freshly dyed blue hair out of her face, “You should have told me, I could have gotten you in, too.”

“Sorry, friend nepotism didn’t cross my mind,” You laughed, waving at Ekko as he walked into the room, “I’ll keep it in mind for next time, though.”

“Always got your back, babe,” Jinx gave an over exaggerated smile, all teeth.

Ekko slid into the seat next to Jinx, setting a coffee cup down in front of her, “Hey, where were you last week?” He laughed, extended a fist out for you to bump.

“Still on the waitlist,” You laughed, pulling out your things as other students began to settle into their seats.

“Glad you're here,” He told you, “You wanna be part of our group right?”

“Yes please,” You said with exaggerated begging,“I was worried I’d have to join people I didn’t know.”

“Yeah, there’s a reason I drag him into every class I take,” Jinx laughed, jerking her thumb over to Ekko.

“Yeah, I’m sure the fact that I always give you my notes has nothing to do with it,” He raised an eyebrow at her.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” She stuck her nose up in the air, giving him a side eye.

You couldn’t help but to laugh at them, their large personalities combined to make one big ball of loud and colorful and smart. You had spent a lot of your free time during your summer research with them. Jinx had convinced you to join their little band and you three terrorized the others with very loud and not so great music playing. You were excited to be in class with them. Looking around, though, you noticed that all the other groups consisted of at least three people, some of them even holding five. 

“Are you guys a group of two?” You tilted your head, it would be odd for the Professor to let them do that in a class that seemed to be very group focused.

“What? Oh, no there’s three of us,” Ekko told you, “I don’t know if you’ve met him yet. It’s Jayce’s new roommate, Viktor. I don’t know why he isn’t here yet.”

You laughed, part of you still wondering if this was some insane joke that everyone was really really dedicated to, “Haven't met him, yet, but I’ve heard of him plenty of times.”

“Wasn’t he at the party on Friday?” Jinx asked, “He said Jayce had convinced him to go.”

“Jayce kept saying he was there, but I never ran into him,” You shrugged, “I’m still not convinced he’s real.”

“Yeah, you got us,” Jinx said, dead serious, “He isn’t real.”

“Wait what?” You side eyed her.

“Also we wrote gullible on the ceiling,” She rolled her eyes, you resisted the urge to look up, “Viktor is very real, I promise. He’s super smart too, like, almost as smart as me.”

“Always humble, babe,” Ekko said, patting Jinx on the arm, “Always humble.”

Class began then, Heimerdinger calling everyone's attention to the front of the room. You settled into the flow of it pretty quickly. You weren’t surprised that he managed to be an engaging professor. You’d sat through plenty of his speeches and presentations over the past two years, and never for a second did you find yourself bored during them. He gave a quick overview of what the next couple of weeks were going to look like and then passed around paper practice tests. You were a little disappointed to have to do another one.

This test ended up being somewhat easier than the one you had taken last night, only a few of the questions really escaped you. You could tell this was a test meant to gauge how much the class knew as opposed to how much they didn’t. You had just flipped to the last page when the door to the classroom opened. As much as you wanted to keep your eyes down and not contribute to the awkward stares you were sure everyone was already giving, instinct kicked in and you couldn't help but to glance up.

You froze.

There was no way.

This was not happening. 

You blinked a few times, mouth hanging open as you watched Pretty Boy lean over Heimerdinger's desk, speaking too quiet for you to hear with an apology written all over his face. Your heart dropped all the way down to the center of the earth, your lungs dried out and you felt like your head was under waves.

When Pretty Boy turned around, his perfect amber eyes immediately landed on yours. Freezing, his eyes widened slightly in an expression you were sure was identical to yours. Poorly hidden horror. You looked away, eyes dropping to your paper, the grip around your pencil was tight enough to turn your knuckles white. You could hear him walking straight for your table, cane tapping along with his footsteps.

You furrowed your eyebrows at the table. Why was he coming this way? There were plenty of other seats. Was now the time to confront you? In the quietest classroom imaginable. He slid into the seat next to you.

“Hey Viktor,” Jinx whispered, glancing up before going back to her test.

Viktor. He was Viktor. Pretty Boy was the roommate you were convinced didn’t exist. The one you had just told Jinx you had never met. The reality that you had, in fact, met him very intimately was crashing down around you. You raced back through your memory, all the little dots that you should have connected immediately snapped together. The music he was listening to, the smoking, that he was even in the garage in the first place, the reason you hadn’t recognized him despite being in your year, the fact that you never saw him leave the house. 

He fucking lived there. He was Jayce’s roommate. You had fucked Jayce’s roommate. 

You could feel his eyes on the side of your face as these thoughts ran through your head. You looked up at him, his closeness making you dizzy, but not in a pleasant way like last time. His face was nearly blank, only the slightest pull to his eyebrows that didn’t  give away any of his thoughts. You had never felt the desire to know what someone else was thinking, not really, not until this very moment. 

Not knowing what to do, you let out a shaky breath and went back to your paper. The room was too quiet to speak to him, you could do nothing but endure the remaining time it took for everyone to finish their tests and hope you didn’t faint.

You were keenly aware of his presence next to you. Everything was taken up by Pretty Boy. By Viktor. You could feel the heat of his leg close to yours, you could smell the cologne he was wearing. The scratching of his pen as he started the test was the only sound you could hear. You felt like you were going crazy. At this moment you were sure you could have been committed to a state hospital. The words on the page blurred in front of you. You scribbled out incorrect equations a dozen times before Hiemerdinger finally concluded that everyone was done. 

“I will review these and adjust our scheduled content accordingly,” He told the class as the tests were passed forward, “As an unplanned reward for enduring my data collection, please talk amongst yourselves while I battle with technology. I will begin today’s lesson as soon as possible.”

“Nice,” Jinx said to herself as chatter started up in the classroom, she turned to Pret- to Viktor, “Dude, where were you?”

“Sorry, I was stuck behind a school bus,” He told her, his accent was less thick than you remember, “it wasn’t a problem last week, I wasn’t prepared.”

“Oh, yeah, school just started this week for little kids,” She nodded, she was lost in thought for a moment, no doubt thinking about picking up Isha from school later. She snapped back to the present and told him your name, “She’s part of the larger group, I’m surprised you haven't met yet.”

His eyes met yours and when he said your name, you could have melted all the way to the ground floor, “It’s nice to meet you, are you…joining our group?”

It took you a moment to realize he was holding a hand out to you. You shook it, trying to be as firm as you could, but you knew your hands were shaking. 

“Nice to meet you, too, ” You said, “Um, I can find another group if you-”

“No,” He said, too quickly, “No, that’s not necessary, I’m glad to have you work with us.”

You did your best not to read into that, “Glad to be here.”

“Heimerdinger wanted us to schedule an out of class work time,” Ekko told you, drawing your attention away from Viktor’s face, “We were thinking Friday’s right after class, since we won’t have lab.”

“That works for me,” You nodded, trying to settle into your chair and be casual.

“Cool, I’ll send a calendar invite,” He said, always the proactive one.

“You are friends with Jayce?” Viktor asked, tilting his head at you.

“Yep,” You nodded awkwardly, unsure how to talk to him, “Since freshman year,”

“Hm, interesting.” He mused. 

You hated this. It was so uncomfortable and not at all like the last time you had spoken to him. Even aside from the fact that you weren’t fucking, the few words said were clunky and awkward. You were realizing that the drugs and alcohol you had consumed might have had something to do with the ease of conversation. It made you sad. You knew this was stupid. You knew you were being childish. You were an adult, sex shouldn’t be the cause of this unbearable awkwardness. You should be able to talk to someone you hooked up with, without being on the verge of a panic attack. Luckily, Heimerdinger’s technical difficulties came to an end. He drew back everyone's attention and put a halt to your terrible conversation. You turned away from Viktor, facing the front as the intro to advanced ochem lecture began. 

The rest of class, thankfully, went smoother than you expected. Your group fell into a good rhythm, working together between bouts of notes to work on practice problems. Viktor was less tense, which let you relax a degree. He was more than willing to help you navigate your textbook, looking over your shoulder to check that you were on the right section. He even helped you find the reading for next class, tearing a piece of paper from his notebook and placing it in the pages. There wasn’t a lab planned for the day, so Heimerdinger continued his lecture well into the scheduled lab time. By the end of the four hours, you had written down almost ten pages of notes. Your hands ached.

“Apologies for the lecture heavy class, everyone. Having to cancel our first class last week meant I needed to catch everyone up” Heimerdinger said as he closed out the presentation, “I promise from here on we will utilize the last two hours as lab time. Have a good rest of your day everyone, I will see you on Wednesday.”

You scooped your things into your bag and slung it over your shoulder, “I’ve gotta get to another class, see ya around.”

You darted out of the door before anyone could reply. Your head was filled with too many thoughts. You took the stairs down, doing your best to organize the mess in your brain. You created a list. First, the things you needed to do, right now . Finish the reading for Asian American Lit, number one. Number two, go to your Asian American Lit class. Then, the things that could wait until after. Telling Lest about Viktor/Pretty Boy dilemma. Though, she would be mad that you didn’t call her at that very moment. Asking Jinx to add you to the group chat, meaning you'd have his number. Yeah, that you could wait on. Then the things you decided could wait forever. Number one, talking to Viktor. It’s all you wanted to do. And at the same time you’d rather spontaneously combust than confront that awkward conversation. 

You were free of the overpowering AC of the science building for less than a minute before the task you decided never needed to happen, happened. Against your will, of course.

“Wait up!” Your steps faltered for a second at the sound of Viktor’s voice calling after you. You ignored him, continuing as if you hadn’t heard. He shouted your name, “I know you can hear me!”

You stopped staring at the hot sidewalk for a moment. No. You had somewhere to be, things to do. You shook your head without turning around and kept walking.

“If you take one more step, you’re ableist!” He shouted, out of breath.

You froze and turned slowly to look at him, jaw hanging open, “That is not funny.”

“Got you to stop didn’t it,” He panted, closing the distance between you, he knocked his cane against the side of your calf, “And, I do believe running from a man with a cane can be considered ableist.”

“First of all, I am not running from you,” You lied, looking up at him. You stepped a half inch to the side, using his shadow to block your eyes from the sun, “And second, if I happened to be running from you, it certainly is not because you use a mobility aid.”

“Okay Miss PC,” He rolled his eyes, “Doesn’t matter why, if I deem it ableist, it is.”

You opened your mouth to argue, floundering for what to say. You don’t remember him being this infuriating at the party.

“Exactly,” He said as you snapped your jaw closed.

“Viktor,” You sighed, “What do you want?”

He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, tilting his head at you. He gave a soft laugh, “I have been waiting all weekend to hear you say my name.”

Breathing would have been easier if he punched you. You blinked up at him, watching him watch you.

“I’m sorry, can I…” He looked around, noticing that other students were leaving the building as their classes ended. You two were standing in the dead center of the sidewalk and in the late summer heat his pale cheeks were already turning pink, “Can we just talk for a second, please?”

He didn’t wait for you to respond before he stepped off the main path and began walking into the flower garden. The dry gravel crunched under his shoes as he walked, the sound amplified in your brain as you followed after him. He settled under a latticed arch, the honeysuckle vines that snaked around it shading you both from the midday sun. 

“I’m sorry,” You said, frowning at him.

“For what?” He asked, face confused.

For running away. For not asking your name. For leaving. For joining your class.

“I don’t know.” Was all you could manage.

“You know, apologies lose a lot of their value if you don’t know what you're apologizing for,” He narrowed his eyes, voice almost scolding.

“I..I know, I’m sorry.”

“You say sorry too much,” He laughed, shaking his head, he didn’t look upset, “It’s very American of you.”

“Well, I am American,” You pointed out, letting yourself laugh softly with him, “I’m sorry for that too,” You joked.

“Well, let me apologize?” He asked, “I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable in class, it truly was not my intention.”

That was an apology. A real and true apology.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” You shook your head, “Fuck, if anyone had a right to feel weird, it was you.”

He tilted his head in question.

“I mean, it was your class first,” You told him, “I just kinda…showed up.”

“Did you join the class because I was in it?” 

“Well, no,” You laughed softly, “How could I have, I didn't even know your name.”

“That’s true,” He scoffed, “I regret that, by the way, I should have asked your name. Not very polite to ask after having sex with someone.”

“Eh, it happens to the best of us,” You shrugged, liking the laugh he gave you in response.

“Well, I am glad I know now,” He told you, eyes moving across his face, he smirked, “It’s a pretty name.”

“Hm, thanks, I like yours quite a lot as well,” You smiled up at him, the step closer he took didn’t go unnoticed, “It suits you, almost as much as Pretty Boy.”

“Thank you,” He smiled down at you, chewing on the inside of his cheek. 

“What?” You could tell there was something else he wanted to say.

“Can I take you out?” He asked, taking a nervous breath, “I know we kinda did this in a backwards manner, but I…you are very interesting to me, I would like to take you out properly.”

Your stomach twisted. Your chest felt like it was caving in.

“No,” You said, head shaking slightly as you offered a sad smile. The unexpected hurt that flashed in his eyes killed you.

“Oh, um,” He stumbled over his words, clearly taken aback by your refusal, he tried to step away, “Okay.”

“Hey wait,” You reached out, grabbing his wrist before you could escape, “Listen, it’s not you.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, begging you not to embarrass him any further with a cliche line.

“Really, I swear,” You urged, not letting go until he stepped back towards you, “I just… I don’t date classmates. I don’t sleep with classmates. Even if I want to. It causes problems, it makes class awkward, and I can’t risk my GPA just because I find someone attractive.”

He hummed to himself, nodding as he took in your words.

“So…” He reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, the same way he did when you were straddling his lap, “You’re saying you find me attractive?”

You resisted the urge to lean into his palm, instead you grabbed his wrist and pulled his lingering hand away from your face, “Don’t do that.”

“I’m confused, you’ve already slept with me? So what does it matter?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you. He was so fucking handsome you wanted to scream.

“Because, at the time, we weren’t classmates.” You explained like it was obvious.

“Okay, so let me get this straight, you will be in a relationship - sexual or romantic - with someone as long as they aren't an active classmate?” He asked, lip curling up in confusion, “But if they were a past classmate, or in our case, a future classmate, it's fine?”

“Exactly,” You shrugged, “I think that’s perfectly reasonable.”

“That’s actually very unreasonable.” He told you, “And also does not make much sense to me.”

“Well, good thing it’s a rule for myself .” You huffed, “You don’t have to understand, you just have to respect it.”

“So, if we were in separate classes, would you go out with me?” He asked.

“Probably, yes.” You admitted.

“But not now, because we are in the same class.”

“Yes, exactly.”

“So, if I ask you when the class is over, you’d say yes?” He leaned towards you, probing.

“Maybe.” You shrugged, “Who’s to say you won’t hate me by the end of the semester?”

“Well, considering you seem to be friends with the only people I know at this school, that would be rather unfortunate.” His voice lowered at the end, he was closer to you know. Very much within kissing distance. Right now there was nothing more you wanted than to feel his lips against yours. You know they’d be cool in comparison to the stagnant summer air.

You didn’t. Instead, you took a step back, and shoved your hand out into the distance between you, “Friends and classmates? Can you do that?” You asked, he studied your hand like the offer was written on it, then sighed.

“Fine, I can respect your rules,” He took your hand in his, firm and strong and cold, “Friends and classmates…for now.”

He moved his index finger softly across the inside of your wrist as he held your hand, goosebumps sprinting up your arm. You carried that feeling with you for the rest of the day.

Chapter Text

By the time Wednesday morning rolled around, you had practically pushed all thoughts of Viktor from your head. You had to, there were so many things you needed to get done and what felt like negative time to do them. You were barely halfway through week two of the semester and you were officially drowning. In retrospect, three STEM classes at once was probably a bad idea. Not only was the course load for each class borderline crushing, but it was getting hard to even keep the classes straight. The jargon between each was so similar, two of them shared a textbook, and each one had hours of homework each night. 

Right now you were hunched over a table in Heimerdinger's classroom, staring down at your schedule and notes and attempted organization of the three classes, your hands buried in your hair. You were trying to decide if the page numbers scribbled into the edge of your notes with ‘4 EnviSci’ under it was for your Oceanic or General Envi-Sci class. Your focus, paired with the headphones you were wearing, prevented you from noticing when Viktor took his seat next to you. It took a moment, but when you finally did notice his movement out of the corner of your eye, you flinched hard.

“Sorry,” He laughed, eyes wide as you clutched at your chest, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Christ, you’re quiet,” You tried to joke, shaking off the startled moment and dropping your headphones onto the table.

“I said good morning and your name,” He told you, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh…” You felt your cheeks go red, “Goodmorning, sorry.”

“It is fine,” He shook his head, then craned his neck to look at the papers in front of you, “What are you so focused on, anyway?”

“My schedule from hell,” You groaned, dragging your hands down your face, you slid the papers over to show him, “I’ve fucked myself.”

“Not in the fun way?” He smirked.

“Ew, shut up,” You scoffed, swatting at his arm.

“Sorry, sorry,” He chuckled, halfway dodging away halfway taking the hit, “What is wrong with your schedule?”

“It’s just so hard to keep straight,” You sighed, “Like, yesterday I gave my Gen EnviSci homework to my Oceanic EnviSci professor and didn’t realize until it was way too late.”

“Hm, yeah, that's not great,” He agreed, “But you wanted to take both classes, no?”

“Well, yeah, but-”

“And your advisor approved you for these classes, correct?” He cut you off.

“Well, yes, but- ”

“ Then , your advisor thinks you are more than capable of taking these classes,” He interrupted again, his force was only encouraging, “Why are you doubting yourself?”

You sighed as you looked down at you. The question was one hundred percent genuine. He was waiting for an answer.

“I…I don’t know,” You picked at the edge of the table, chewing on the inside of your cheek, “It’s just harder than I thought it was gonna be.”

“Ha, that’s what she said,” Jinx snorted as she slid into her seat across from you. Ekko rolled his eyes as he took his seat.

“Good morning Jinx,” You scoffed, “Thank you for your seven A.M. humor.”

“Anytime,” She blew you a kiss as she pulled her laptop out of her bag.

Your conversation with Viktor died as class started. You did your best to focus on the current lecture instead of dwelling on your tangled schedule. 

You were grateful that Heimerdinger had planned a lab for the second half of class today. Heimerdinger had reasoned that it had been many months since most of the class had even stepped foot into a lab. He planned a simple titration experiment as a warm-up to the more complex projects that were to come. The groups shuffled into the crisp white lab, following Hiemerdinger as he reminded everyone about lab safety and personal protection equipment. He explained that the experiment would be straightforward but most likely take the whole two hours. He instructed the groups to split into pairs or trios to ensure that everyone took a hands-on role in the experiment.  As he set everyone loose, he encouraged people to take their time and ask for help if needed. 

You were glad this was a low stress lab, it gave you the perfect opportunity to assess Viktor. For as long as you had been studying science, from highschool to internship settings, it was these moments where you could tell alot about a man. You couldn’t count the amount of times a guy who seemed incredibly kind and respectful showed you how truly misogynistic and vile he really was during a lab. It wasn’t like you wanted Viktor to do something wrong, but it would definitely be easier to rid him from your thoughts if he turned out to be a dick. 

“Hey, are you going to Cait’s house tonight?” Jinx asked you as your group headed to don PPE.

“Yeah, I was planning on it,” You told her, picking out a lab coat from the rack, “Are you?”

“Jayce is cooking, of course I'm going,” She snorted, and then jabbed Viktor in the ribs, “I’m assuming you’ll be there, too. Ya know, since it’s your house.”

He just nodded and hummed as he pulled on his own lab coat and safety glasses.

“Listen, I’m voting for a horror movie tonight,” Jinx told you, then pointed between you and Viktor as she walked away, “And you two should back me up on that.”

You shook your head, watching as she retreated back to the table with Ekko.

“So, partner,” Viktor said, looking down at you, “Do you wanna set up the burette or get the liquids?”

“Hm, I’ll set up the burette, if that's okay?” You asked as you reached the table.

“Perfect, I’ll be right back,” he grabbed the list of materials from the table and went off to gather what was needed. 

Luckily - unfortunately?- the lab went perfect. Viktor was an incredible lab partner. He told you everything he was thinking, asked for your ideas and opinions, stepped in when you seemed hesitant about something, and let you help him when he was unsure. You two worked together perfectly, completely in sync as you worked through the lab and moved on to the equations. In the end, you and him ended up being the first pair to finish. 

“No fair,” Jinx whined from across the table, four flasks of bright pink liquid spread between her and Ekko, “How are y’all done so fast?” 

“Probably because they didn’t purposefully add too much titration because it made a pretty color ,” Ekko groaned, rubbing his forehead on the back of his wrists.

“Well, there’s no point if I’m not gonna have fun, “ Jinx defended herself, picking up an oversaturated flask and swirling the bright pink liquid around, “Besides, only the first two were on purpose.”

“Good job, Partner,” You said, holding out a fist to him as you both started cleaning up the experiment.

He tapped his knuckles against yours, amused, “You too,”

You grinned at him as you gathered glassware to wash. When everything was cleaned up and put away, the area was nearly better than how you found it. Before you finally packed up to leave the lab, you caught a glimpse of the notes Viktor had taken to turn in and froze.

“Oh, uh hey Viktor?” You asked, tilting your head down at the paper and squinting. His handwriting was completely and utterly unintelligible. 

“Hm?” He asked absentmindedly, putting his things away in his bag.

“Actually, I don’t think we should leave just yet,” You blurted out, trying to think of a way to do this nicely, “Would it be cool if we stayed to type up the notes? Uh, you know, just in case something happens to these ones.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, seeing right through the lie, “You think my handwriting is bad.”

“What? No!” You squeaked, “No,I just think it’s a good idea to have a backup, just in case.”

“Okay, well if it's not about my handwriting,” He stood and pushed the paper into your hands, “You can go ahead and type them up if you want.”

He walked away as you stared down at the pages. It wasn’t that his handwriting was bad, it was that it was too good. His words were in a sweeping and slanted cursive, written fast enough to smear the pen ink. HIs equations were crystal clear and everything else felt like trying to read a letter from the 1800s. Before you knew it Viktor was already out of the lab. The tapping of his cane got fainter as he moved farther away.

“Wait!” You yelped, walking as fast as you could through the lab without getting in trouble, trying to follow him into the main classroom. He was nearly out the door when you caught up to him, hissing, “Viktor, wait! ”

“Admit you think my handwriting is bad, and I’ll help you,” He said, turning and looking at you calmly.

“I…ugh, fine,” You dropped your head sheepishly, giving in, “Listen, it’s not that your handwriting is bad , I just… can’t read it.”

He hummed, narrowing his eyes at you, searching for a lie.

“Really, I swear,” You told him, “If anything, your handwriting is actually gorgeous, I am just inept.”

“Okay okay, calm down,” He waved off your flattery, “Fine, I’ll read it, you type it.”

“Thank you,” You sighed, following him to your table in the empty classroom. 

You pulled out your laptop, swiping away the pages of scheduling notes you had closed in it earlier that day. Viktor picked one of them up, glancing over it.

“You know, I didn’t get to tell you earlier,” He said, catching your eye and giving a small smile, “But I think you are very intelligent, and also very capable.”

“Oh, uh, thanks,” You fumbled as your entire face went red.

“I mean it,” He told you, in all honesty, “You’re very smart, and I think you are causing yourself undue stress over your classes.”

“Viktor, it’s fine, really,” You tried to stop him, feeling exposed by his adulation.

“All I’m saying is,” He sighed trying to find the right words, “I haven’t known you for very long, but you seem like the type of scientist who wants to do real good in the world, but you can’t do that if you burn yourself out in the first two semesters of junior year.”

You stared at him with wide eyes and swallowed hard, hoping he couldn’t tell that you were willing tears not to well, “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” he nodded and then turned away to look down at his paper, “Ready to type?”

  “Uh, yeah,” You opened up a document, “Yeah, go ahead.”

As he began reading, you shook your head slightly, trying to shake the feeling he left you with. Stupid perfect lab partner.

After classes, the drive to the Rune Street house was quick. Luckily, your last class ended in time for you to get through the neighborhood without having to wait in school zone traffic. An old BMW wagon was sitting in the driveway next to Jayce’s Pruis, you didn’t recognize it. 

You didn’t bother to knock when you went inside, “It’s me!” you shouted as you dropped your bag into the hall closet. The house smelled like spices and chiles.

“In here!” Jayce called back from the kitchen, you found him practically up to his elbows in masa.

“Starting already?” You leaned your back against the counter, watching as he tried to wrangle the dough into the bowl.

“Hey! Yeah, full house tonight. Wanted to get a jump on it, ” He shrugged, washing the dough off his hands and wrists.

“Ah, smart,” You nodded, looking around the kitchen for something to do, “Hey, who’s Beamer is out front?”

“It’s V’s,” He nodded behind you, you turned your neck to see the aforementioned roommate walking out of his room and towards the kitchen with an empty mug in his hand. He was wearing a pair of narrow wire rimmed glasses, a new addition since you last saw him this morning.

“Ha, makes sense,” You smirked at him, trying not to react to the way he looked in the glasses that would look lame on anyone else, or the fact that he drives a manual. Both of which made you feel a very particular sort of way. 

“What’s that supposed to mean,” Viktor scoffed, tossing a tea bag into the trash and slotting the mug into the dishwasher.

“Nothing, it’s just very European of you,” You teased, moving to lean your hip against the counter so you could see both men, “that’s all.”

Viktor settled on the other side of the kitchen peninsula, opening up a book that was sitting there, “Hm, I’m not going to hold back on the American jokes if that’s how you’re going to act.”

“I dare you,” You narrowed your eyes on him, hoping he would take the joke as it was. 

He returned the look, chewing on the inside of his lip before huffing and rolling his eyes. 

“When did you two meet?” Jayce asked with a laugh, reminding you he was there. 

“We’re in the same-”

“Friday night at the party-”

You and Viktor spoke at the same time. You couldn't help the shocked way you looked at him, Jayce did not need to know that.

“What?”

“We met at the party,” You jumped in, throwing a pointed look at Viktor, then laughed, “Shared a joint, but not names.”

You hoped Viktor would stick to the half lie. 

“Mhm, and she transferred into my OChem class this week,” Viktor nodded, luckily not elaborating on your explanation, “Connected some dots.”

“Oh cool,” Jayce beamed, his puppy dog energy not catching whatever tension might be showing, “Sorry I didn’t get to introduce you guys, it’s cool you have class together.”

“Yeah, we’re in a group with Jinx and Ekko,” You told him, feeling in the clear about your secret not getting out. You flipped the subject anyways, just in case, “Is there anything I can help with?”

“Hm,” Jayce looked around the kitchen, thinking, “Filling is cooking right now. I was planning to make rice later and pico, too. I’ll need help putting everything together later, though.”

“Okay, cool.” You figured you could get your homework done before everyone showed up.

“Yeah. Did you get the husks, by the way?” He asked, wiping down the counter.

“Uh…” You narrowed your eyes at him, searching through your memory, “I would have if you had asked me to.”

“I did ask you to!” Jayce huffed, looking at you disappointed.

“Dude, when?” You didn’t even know he was planning to make tamales until you had walked in.

“Last night,” He crossed his arms over his chest, you resisted the urge to call him your mother, “I texted you.”

“Bro, no the fuck you didn’t,” You insisted, then turned to Viktor, “Do you know your roommate is delusional?”

“Do not drag me into this,” Viktor said, glancing up over the top of his glasses.

“I did,” Jayce argued, pulling out his phone, “You just never check your messages.”

He wasn’t wrong, you weren’t the most reliable at checking your text notifications, but you were sure he hadn’t texted you last night….well mostly sure. Jayce opened up his phone, tapping through it with purpose. Out of the corner of your eye you could tell that Viktor was poorly pretending to not care. When the smug look fell from Jayce’s face, you cackled. Without saying anything, Jayce grabbed his keys from the counter and walked towards the front door.

“I fucking told you.” You called after him, wiping a tear away as you laughed. You turned to Viktor,  “He’s such a brat.”

“Eh,” He shrugged, trying to act like he wasn’t biting back his own grin. 

Before you could tease him as well, your phone rang. Jayce’s photo on the screen.

“Have you even left the driveway?” You asked, rolling your eyes.

“Make the pico please,” Jayce told you, you could picture the defeat on his face, “And keep an eye on the chicken.”

“Hmm, that doesn’t sound like an apology,” You pulled a cutting board out of the cabinet anyways, “But! If you get me and Viktor drinks on the way back, you’ve got a deal.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow at you, you exaggerated a wink in response. 

“That is exploitation, but fine.” Jayce huffed, “text me if we need anything else from the store.”

You laughed to yourself as he hung up, sure you’d never get tired of bickering with Jayce. He made you feel like you had a sibling sometimes. You gathered what you needed for the salsa. Jayce had made it with you enough times now that a recipe was unnecessary. When you were sure all the ingredients were present and you wouldn’t need Jayce to pick anything else up, you started to put everything together. You stood at the kitchen peninsula so that Viktor was sitting almost directly across from you. Taking advantage of the moment, you let yourself stare at him. The glasses were a…good look, for sure. The harsh black lines of the frames stood out against his pale skin. They were slid down the ridge of his nose, the edge of the frame rested just under the mole on his cheek. His eyelashes brushed against the top of his cheeks every time he blinked. He scrunched his nose just slightly as he read a sentence, eyes not moving from where they were focused as he read the same sentence again. And again.

“So, what’re you pretending to read?” You asked as you began cutting the chiles.

“Hm, interesting accusation.” He snorted without looking up, flipping the page.

“Viktor, honey, that’s the first time you’ve flipped the page in 10 minutes,” You raised an eyebrow.

He squinted at you, “I’m a slow reader…”

“Uh-huh, sure you are,” You smirked at him, teasing, “If you wanted to hang out with me you could've just said so.”

“You’re…” He narrowed his eyes, you wished you could see the list of things he wanted to call you, “somewhat self-obsessed, aren’t you?” is what he settled on.

“Yeah probably,” you shrugged, scraping the chile seeds into the trash, “gotta be sometimes.”

“Interesting philosophy,” He closed the book anyway, leaning towards you on his elbows. 

“You could call it that, sure,” You rinsed your hands in the sink, trying to ward off the sting of the chile seeds, “Hey, text Jayce and tell him to get me an iced strawberry matcha, yeah? And let him know what you want, too.”

“You’re gonna hold him to that?” He pulled his phone out anyway.

“Yeah of course,” You started chopping again, “Honestly, I’m rarely right when it comes to Jayce. Gotta take advantage, ya know.”

“Huh, very big of you to admit that,” He muttered, tapping away on his screen.

“And you said I was self-obsessed,” You scoffed and then leaned over the counter, trying to peek at his phone screen, “What’d you ask him for?”

“Eh, same thing,” He shrugged, setting his phone to the side and focusing his attention back on you, “You and Jayce are close friends?” 

“Yeah, of course,” You told him, nodding firmly, “One of my closest friends.”

“How’d you meet him?” He asked.

“If you’re gonna interview me, at least help,” You gathered up a second cutting board and knife, sliding it across the counter to him with an onion, “We met freshman year. We lived in the same hall. That’s how most of us became friends.”

“Ah, makes sense. So your living situation is what made everyone friends?,” He picked up the knife, and chopped the onion into quarters.

“Kinda,” You shrugged, “Jayce and Cait knew each other before coming to Piltover, so they roomed together, and Me, Lest, and Mel were put in a triple next door. Vi didn’t live on our floor, but her and Cait started on and off dating pretty quick.”

“Hm, I didn’t realize Cait and Vi’s relationship was like that,”

“Yeah, key- word was,” You told him, “No one will admit or talk about it, but their relationship started off pretty toxic. It got better after freshman year, thank god.”

He nodded, thinking about it.

“Don’t tell anyone I said that, yeah?” You asked, “It doesn't matter now anyways, they’re better, clearly.”

“Said what?” He raised an eyebrow at you, then, “What about the others?”

“What do you mean?”

“So, you lived with Mel and Lest, Cait and Jayce lived next door, and Cait started dating Vi,” He waved the knife around slightly while speaking, “How do you know Sky? And Jinx and Ekko?”

“Jayce had a class with Sky and just ended up dragging her along, she’s always been a bit of an outlying friend in the group. Not because we don’t want her around, she’s just a little more introverted than the rest of us,” You explained, “She seems to be breaking out of her shell a little bit this semester, though, which is nice to see.”

“She is very nice, I do like having her around,” He mused, you bit back a jealous comment. You turned him down, you didn’t get to have an opinion on who he liked having around.

“Yeah, she’s great. And Jinx is Vi’s sister, she’s two years younger but graduated highschool early.” You dumped the first handfuls of diced chiles into a bow, “She was a little hesitant of us at the beginning of last year. She wasn’t a huge fan of Cait, but she came around. Honestly, I probably spend more time with Jinx than I do with Cait at this point. Ekko, too. Him and Jinx grew up together, they’re practically attached at the hip.”

You stopped talking, staring down at your hands for a moment as you realized how long you had rambled.

“Ha, and you didn’t really ask for all that information,” You laughed awkwardly, “Sorry.”

“I don’t mind the details,” He assured you, you felt his eyes on your face until you looked up, no sarcasm when he said, “besides, I like listening to you talk.”

You hid your burning face by looking back down, intensely focused on the task in front of you. 

“Don’t tell me that,” You tried to joke, but it was weak, “I’ll never shut up.”

He hummed quietly to himself, pleased with your reaction to him. You half expected a teasing remark, instead he asked, “What about you?”

“What?” You asked, not looking up at him.

“What about you?” He asked again, “You’re telling me about the others, but not really yourself. Where are you from?

“Why do you want to know?” You went back to cutting, eyes focusing on your hands.

“Because I do,” He shrugged, “I’m a scientist, I like to know things.”

“Huh, that’s a fair enough reason I guess,” You didn’t necessarily see the harm in telling him, but the more he knew about you the harder it would be to create distance, “I’m from here, and Maine.”

“You’re from two places?”

“I lived here when I was kid and moved to Winter Harbor when I was, like, 11,” You explained, “So, two places, yeah.”

  “Why’d you move?” 

“Why does anyone move at 11?” You laughed, “Because my dad did.”

“Your parents are divorced?” He guessed, pulling the bowl of chile’s towards him to scrape some of the onion in.

“Aren’t everyones,” You joked, hoping it watered down the bitterness, “I don’t mind it really. I had to go back and forth a lot until I was 16, which is really the only part that sucked. When I was old enough to work, I stopped having to go for summers and it was better.”

“Ah, so you live with…your father?”

“Yep,” You started in on the tomatoes, trying to find a serrated knife to use with no luck.

“You don’t like your mother?” The invasive question didn’t feel so invasive when he asked it.

“I love my mom,” You said, not meeting his eyes.

“Love her, but do not like her,” He concluded.

“That sounds so awful of me, but…”

“I don’t think so,” He shrugged, “You don’t get to choose your family, it makes sense not to like them 100% of the time.”

“I guess…” You frowned down at your hands, struggling to cut through the vegetable with the flat knife, “Still feel guilty about it, though.”

“Can I ask why you don’t like her?” This question was more hesitant, clearly curious to know but not expecting you to answer. 

“I shouldn’t talk bad about her, she tries, ya know. But she’s just never….” You searched your brian for the right word to describe your mothers behaviors, “content.”

“Hm, how so?” He took the bowl again.

“Nothing is ever good enough for her,” You tried to explain, “My dad wasn’t enough, the east coast wasn’t enough, her second husband wasn’t enough, I’m not enough.” You laughed, not able to hide the acid in your voice, “Honestly, I’m sure she’ll decide that her new husband isn’t good enough for her either in a few years. And, yes I understand that people should have what they want and shouldn’t settle for less or whatever, but she wants too much and when you give it to her she just wants more.” 

You struggled to saw through the tomato as you spoke. Your voice and irritation both raised until finally the knife slipped and skidded across your skin. You gasped, rant dying mid breath as you watched blood spring from the slice in your hand. 

“Ah, you should have used a serrated knife,” Viktor pointed out absentmindedly, leaning over to look at your hands.

Your whole body tensed, frozen in place as your breathing became short and harsh. You wanted to move, to stop your blood from spilling over your skin and onto the cutting board, to do anything, but you were stuck. Fully paralyzed as more and more covered your fingers, your ears began to ring.

“Hey” Viktor waved a hand at you, calling your name as he tried to get your attention, “Are you okay?”

You couldn’t speak. You didn’t register that he had moved, but suddenly he was next to you. His fingers wrapped around your wrist and he pulled you towards the kitchen sink. The splash of cold water against your skin ripped you back to earth.

“Ah, fuck ,” You hissed, trying to pull your hand away. The cut in your skin burned under the sink faucet, but he didn’t let you go. 

“Stop, let me help you,” He scolded, hands still gentle.

“Ow, god, fuck that hurts,” You whined, pressing your face into the side of his arm, not wanting to look at your own hand. You fisted her hand around the back of his shirt, holding on to him like you would fall through the earth if you didn’t.

“Shh, it’s not that bad, just breathe,” His voice was soft and reassuring as he pulled your hand from under the water. You could feel him pull it closer to his face to inspect the damage. 

Your eyes were screwed shut, face still pressed into him. You did as he asked and pulled in a deep breath, trying to level yourself out. The scent of him filled your head, black tea and citrus and honey. You took another breath, focusing your attention on him instead of your own body. You could feel his muscles move where your forehead was pressed to him, his shoulder blades under your fingers. Solid and strong and sturdy next to your shaking body.

“Yeah, there you go, just keep breathing.” He put your hand under the water for a few more seconds, then shut it off, “I’m gonna put pressure, okay.”

You nodded, sucking in a breath and bracing against him as he pressed a towel against your skin. You bit your lip, trying to hold back the pathetic whimper it forced out of you. You were hyper aware of the tightness of your skin where the cut was, working yourself up again.

“Hey, you’re doing fine,” He told you, holding the cloth tight to your skin, “It won’t even need stitches, I promise.”

You nodded, timing your breathing with his. Neither of you had heard the front door open or the commotion of Cait and Vi coming into the house.

“Woah, what’s going on here?” Vi laughed awkwardly, unsure what they had walked in on.

“She cut her hand,” Viktor told them, not moving from where he stood, “Cait, is there a first aid kit somewhere?”

“Yes, one second,” You heard her hurry away.

“You good?” Vi asked from outside the kitchen, unsure of how to help.

“Yep,” You squeaked out, unmoving aside from throwing Vi a blind thumbs up.

“Here it is,” You heard Cait come back into the kitchen, “How bad is it? What do you need, Viktor?”

“It’s not too bad,” He told her, you flattened your hand against his back, feeling him move when he spoke, “Just some butterfly strips if there are any, and maybe a roll of gauze”

“Yeah, here,” Cait rustled around in the kit for a moment, setting out what Viktor asked for, “Do you need any help?”

“I can handle it, thank you,” Viktor assured her.

“Sure, shout if you need anything, okay?” Cait told him, voice retreating.

You were glad she didn’t insist, already embarrassed enough by your reaction in front of Viktor. More witnesses weren’t necessary. Viktor adjusted, moving so his arm was over your shoulder to get a better grip on your hand. You let him move you around, pressing your cheek to the back of his shoulder, still breathing him in as he pinned you to his side. 

“I’m sorry,” You told him, letting out a shaky breath.

“Hm, you don’t need to be sorry,” You felt his thumb rub gently against your wrist, not to help the wound on your hand, just trying to calm you down.

“This was over dramatic,” You scoffed, pressing your nose hard against him, trying to hide, “...I just don’t like blood.”

“Clearly,” He laughed gently, “lots of people don’t. I’m gonna put the bandaid on it, okay?”

You nodded, grateful for the warning. His hands were gently as he secured the cut and wrapped the gauze around it. 

“There,” He said, pulling away from you, “All fixed.”

“Thank you,” You said, stepping back and examining his handiwork. The gauze banded around your hand was laid perfectly, smoothly hiding any evidence of the incident. 

“You’re welcome,” He nodded, “Does it feel okay? It’s not too tight?”

“No, it’s perfect,” You smiled weakly up at him, still red in the face.

“I’m glad I was here,” He joked,“Seems like you would have bled out otherwise.”

You shook your head with a laugh, “Yeah, probably,”

He took a step over, putting himself between the counter and you, “Don’t panic, but there is blood on the counter. Do you want to go sit down while I clean it up?”

“Oh, gross,” You cringed, “No, I can clean it up.”

“Are you sure?” He held a hand out to the side, as if to catch you were you to faint.

“Yeah,” You assured him, “I’m good now, I’m okay.”

He let you step past him to get to the counter. There was less blood than you had expected, which did nothing to ease the embarrassment of your dramatics. Carefully you dropped the knife into the sink and scrapped the mutilated tomato into the trash. Viktor, unable to not help, grabbed a rag and wiped down the counter. You turned the hot water on, rinsing away the tomato seeds and drops of blood. It wasn’t until you stepped away from the counter that you noticed the smear of blood across the bottom of your t-shirt.

“Aw fuck,” You pouted, pulling the fabric away to look at it. The stain wasn’t huge, but it was obvious against the light colored fabric. It made your stomach turn to see your own blood so bright on your clothes.

“You have bad luck with stains in this house,” He told you, taking a second to pick up on your unease, “Do you want to borrow a shirt?”

“Oh, uh, yes,” You admitted, chewing on your bottom lip, “If that’s okay.”

“Wouldn't have offered if it wasn’t okay,” He told you, already grabbing his cane from where he had rested it against the cabinet and heading out of the kitchen.

You followed him to his room just off the main living space. It was your room from the summer. Except it wasn’t your room, not at all. You had been living awkwardly out of a pair of suitcases for 4 weeks. This was Viktor’s room. 

You hadn’t known him long enough to even think about what his room would be like, but you were sure you would have been exactly right. It was very him. Tidy and warm, posters and art on the walls placed perfectly, bed made, shoes lined up by the door. The only part of the room that wasn’t neat was his desk and what seemed to be a work table. Both covered in papers and books and pieces of machines.

You stood there awkwardly in the middle of his room, watching as he dug through his dresser to find you something to wear. He pulled out a navy t-shirt and brought it to you.

“If I let you borrow this,” He said, pulling it just out of reach, “You must promise to bring back my other one.”

“What?” You narrowed your eyes at him, hand frozen halfway to the shirt.

“The other night, it wasn’t Jayce’s shirt that you took,” He teased, biting back a smirk when your jaw fell open.

“Dude, what the fuck,” You felt heat creeping up your cheeks again, your shoulders curled up as you shrank away from him, “Why didn’t you say it was yours?”

“Eh, you looked good in it,” He shrugged, holding the shirt out to you.

You rolled your eyes with a huff. Then, deciding you wouldn’t let this be a one sided game, straightened your shoulders and looked Viktor in the eyes. 

“So, you like seeing me in your clothes?” You asked, tilting your head and furrowing your eyebrows slightly at him. 

He practically took a step back, startled by your change in demeanor. Before he could respond you pulled your shirt over your head, staring him in the face as you shook your hair out. He sucked in a hash breath, eyes wide and mouth open as he looked at you. He swallowed hard, gaze traveling across your torso and face turning pink. You couldn't help the childish pride as you watched him falter. 

“So the braless look this weekend was a style choice?” He joked with a nervous laugh, following the lines of your plain bra.

“Yep,” You reached out, trying to take the shirt from his hand, but he pulled it away again.

You followed, stepping closer as you tried to get it. Your hand followed it past his shoulder until he was close enough to land a hand on your bare waist.

“Viktor, give it to me.” You warned, as he kept the shirt out of your reach.

“Was this from me?” He breathed, completely ignoring your request as he brushed his fingers across the bruises on your hip.

“Duh, who else?” You snarked, freezing under his hand, “Very rude to leave marks on someone without asking, by the way.”

He scoffed, and pulled the collar of his shirt down to show a matching bruise on his collarbone, “You are one to talk.”

“Not my fault you bruise easy,” You shrugged, trying to keep your voice steady as he traced a line between each mark on your body. You shuddered when he pressed into his own teeth marks on your shoulder, deciding that was enough. 

You gave one last reach and snatched the shirt out of his hand, taking a few steps away from him. You squeezed your eyes shut with your back to him, willing every feeling in your body to stop . You focused your attention on the t-shirt, unfolding it to see it was an old camp shirt. Poradce was in small white letters on the left chest of the shirt, and the back had a logo of an atom and Sýkora printed across the back. You pulled it on, doing your best to hide any reaction to him giving you a shirt with his last name on it. 

“Science camp?” You asked, pulling your hair out from the neckline as you raised an eyebrow at him.

“I was a counselor,” He told you, seeming to recover from whatever had just occurred, “Paid well and looks good on applications.”

“Fair,” you nodded at him, also feeling the tension ebb away.

“Plus, teaching children how to make small explosives is entertaining,” He admitted with a smile.

You laughed at the mental image, “You’ll have to tell Jinx about that, she will demand you teach her.”

“Hm, I believe that would make me an accomplice in whatever she decides to do with that knowledge,” He cringed, laughing with you.

“Uh, thanks again for the shirt,” You said,trying to fill the almost awkward silence.

“Of course. Sorry for making you talk about your mom, by the way,” He twisted his cane on the ground, “I feel bad about that.”

“Eh, don’t worry about it,” You placed your hand on his wrist, stopping his movement, “Really, it’s fine. Not your fault that I get a little crazy whenever I think about her.”

“Yeah, well now I know not to ask you about things like that when you have a knife in your hand,” He laughed, “I’m lucky you didn’t stab me.”

“Next time I will,” You raised your eyebrows with the light threat. 

You wondered if you were looking up at him the way he was looking down at you, pupils blown, cheeks dusted a pretty pink, lips slightly parted. You opened your mouth to say something, not anything in particular just something to keep him looking at you. Before you could think of something to say that wouldn’t make you sound unintelligent, movement out of the corner of your eye caught your attention. 

“Is that a snake?” You gasped, stepping around him to get a better look. 

The large tank was set around the corner of his L shaped room, just out of sight from where you were standing. A small pink snake was moving across a branch leaning against the glass. You crouched down, looking at her through the glass. She was young and a pale pink color, her eyes the bright red that animals with albinism have. 

“That’s Rio,” He said, walking up next to you and crouching down to look at her.

“She’s gorgeous,” You smiled at the snake, moving to get a better look at her, “Is she young?”

“Yeah, she hit four months a couple days ago,” He told you, you could see him watching you in the reflection, “Do you want to hold her?”

“Can I?” You felt like a kid.

“Yeah, of course,” He laughed, straightening up and moving to the front of her tank, “She’s very sociable, likes to be held.” He opened the tank from the front, sliding the glass open. 

Slowly he reached in, “Pojď sem,” He muttered, coaxing her out and into his hand. She moved calmly across his hands, looking around as he brought her to his chest. He smiled down at her fondly, as she moved across his shirt. He motioned you closer with a free finger, using his other hand to steer her away from his face.

“She’s so pretty,” You marveled, taking a closer look at the pattern on her back, “Is she a corn snake? I’ve never seen a snake this color before.”

“Yeah, she’s a salmon snow corn snake. It’s a gene mutation,” He explained, pulling her off his glasses, “A homozygous red factor that makes her very pink, she’ll probably get more color as she gets older. You can pet her, she’ll probably crawl into your hands when she realizes you're there.”

“So cool,” You breathed, reaching out for her. 

Gently you brushed your hand against her back, her smooth scales were warm under your fingers. She turned her head towards you, slowly moving to your palm. Viktor helped her into your hands, holding on until she was cradled against you. She immediately wrapped herself around your wrist, and wriggled up the borrowed shirt.

You laughed, letting her move towards your face. She bumped against your cheek, tongue flicking out curiously, “Sorry Rio, no glasses to chill on.”

You pulled her away from your face, watching as she moved between your hands and around your arms. 

“She likes you,” He told you. You raised an eyebrow at him not convinced, “No, really, she has a lot of personality for a snake. Very selective on who she decides to like.”

“Yeah, I’m sure me wearing your shirt has nothing to do with it,” You rolled your eyes, grinning up at him.

“Just let me compliment you, okay?” He huffed, reaching out to pet Rio.

“Fine, I’lll accept that I’m your snake’s new favorite person,” You joked.

“Hey, I don’t know about favorite, ” He backtracked with a laugh, smirking down at you. 

He was as close as you could be to you without squishing Rio between your bodies. Hand under yours, to support the pet of course, no other reason. In this moment - wearing his t-shirt, in his room, holding his pet, sharing his space - you knew for a fact that he was going to cause a lot of trouble in your life. 

The sound of people arriving in the house pulled you away from the thought

“Viktor!?” Jayce shouted from the living room.

“In here!” He called back, not looking away from you. You looked back down at Rio, watching her in an attempt to hide the heat in your face.

“Oh, hey guys…” Jayce said, a hint of confusion in his voice as finding you arguably very close to Viktor in his room.

“She’s meeting Rio,” Viktor told him, taking a step back so you could turn to face Jayce.

“She’s so cute,” You told him, turning to show the small snake in your hands.

Jayce grimaced, “Yeah, sure.”

“No fucking way you don’t like her,” You gasped a his distaste.

“I’m sorry,” He shrugged, “I don’t understand the appeal of a predatory reptile.”

“Did you just call this actual angel a predator ?” You gawked, carefully holding Rio up towards him.

“That’s exactly what it is,” He affirmed, “Your tea is on the counter, did you finish making the pico?”

“Rude,” Viktor muttered, gently taking Rio from your hands, holding her up to his face and telling only her, “You are not a predatory, moje malá princezna.”

“Not yet,” You waved your bandaged hand at him as Viktor placed Rio back in her tank, “Little mishap.”

“Jesus christ, are you okay?” He asked as you and Viktor walked out of the room.

“I’m fine, just dramatic,” You admitted with a laugh, grabbing the matcha Jayce had brought for you and handing the other to Viktor.

“Very dramatic,” Viktor agreed, side eyeing you as he took a sip of the tea.

“Hm, wanna finish it up while I get everything else ready?” He said, eyeing the lack of space between your shoulder and Viktor’s.

“Yeah, for sure,” You took a step away, hating yourself over the fact that you missed the  rush of being close to him.

“Cait’s home, by the way,” Viktor told Jayce, hanging his cane on the counter and settling back into one of the stools where his book was, “With Vi.”

“Oh cool,” Jayce pulled what he needed out of the fridge to assemble the tamales, “Mel said she’s on her way with Lest and Sky.”

“Good,” You nodded, biting the inside of your cheek and reminding yourself that Sky was a friend that you loved very much and you weren’t allowed to have an ounce of animosity towards her, “Should be done pretty quick.”

You pulled the bowl of chopped chiles and onion out of the fridge and gathered tomatoes to cut. One short.

“In the dishwasher,” Viktor said, watching you from across the counter.

You raised an eyebrow at him.

“The serrated knife is in the dishwasher,” He told you, more caring than mocking when he said, “Don’t use a flat blade.”

“Thanks,” You pulled the knife out of the dishwasher and hand cleaned it in the sink before starting to dice the tomatoes. A much easier task with the proper tool.

You were normally more than comfortable in Jayce’s presence, but right now you felt less welcoming. You wanted to be around just Viktor. You wanted to talk to him however you wanted, about whatever you wanted. You didn’t want to create space between you and, for a moment, you resented Jayce for making you feel like you needed to.

All bad signs. You turned Viktor down. You didn’t want to date him. You didn’t want to sleep with him. You didn’t want to kiss him. 

All lies. You could do all those things right now if you let yourself. You wouldn’t though. Letting yourself get tangled in relationships with a classmate caused nothing but problems for you in the past. It was the one agreement you made with yourself, you had to be strong enough not to break it.

“You’re going to cut yourself again,” Viktor’s calm voice pulled you out of thought, he was barely even looking up at you over the rim of his glasses, eyes flickering down to the knife dangerously close to your fingertips. He raised an eyebrow, a silent question. You hated how readable you apparently were.

You set the knife down on the cutting board, staring down at the seeds and flesh. You heaved a sigh, picked up the board, and moved to the other side of the kitchen. Facing away from Viktor. You couldn’t see him, he didn’t say anything, but you could feel his eyes on your back. You swallowed hard, hating the feeling of being pulled in two conflicting directions.

You kept your distance for the rest of the evening, deciding that the acceptable quota of time to be close to him in one day had been used up. Viktor didn’t question you aside from a few narrow eyed looks that you ignored, opting instead to ask Jayce to play music while you and him started the cooking process.

When the girls showed up, it was easier. Lest took up your attention, excitedly telling you about a baseball player she was paired up with in her history class - dumb as a rock, but pretty as all hell - and worried over your hand. Sky squeezed herself into Viktor’s bubble, sitting close to him at the counter. You heard her apologize for being drunk on Friday night, he laughed it off. Called it cute . Luckily, Sky did her best to absorb all of his attention. She made awkward small talk with him, not wanting their somewhat boring conversation to end. It kept you from thinking about him all afternoon…clearly.

At the very least you had managed to avoid his physical presence until after dinner. He sat between Jayce and Sky on one end of the table, while you were at the other. He washed dishes in the kitchen and you wiped down the table in the dining room. You helped Cait set up the living room and he helped Jayce connect his laptop to the TV.

It wasn’t until the movie was decided on and everyone began settling down into the living room that an afternoon of self restraint came to an end.

Of all the space in the living room, Viktor decided the only place he wanted to sit was directly next to you. Something that seemed like nothing to anyone else, including Sky who took up his other side. You didn’t miss the look Lest gave as she sat down on your other side or the way Viktor knocked his knee against yours with controlled force. 

“You like horror movies?” He asked you casually, as if you hadn’t kept him at farther than arm's length for the past couple of hours. 

“Yeah, good ones.” You told him with a shrug as the opening credits to The Descent started. 

“What constitutes a good one?” He raised an eyebrow, closer to you than you had planned to let him.

“If I like it, then it’s good,” You shrugged, pulling your foot under you.

“Hm, interesting criteria,” He laughed, rolling his eyes at you as everyone else settled into their seats 

He didn’t push. Didn’t rest a hand against you or move an arm over your shoulder. He let you exist in peace, your bubbles pressed close but not breached. You managed to reach out to Lest during jump scares, holding on to her hand when your heart jumped. A few times when he flinched you saw his hand hover near yours, just for a second, before he placed it against his braced knee. He picked at the fraying edge of one of the velcro closures, fingers flexing whenever the tension raised on screen. 

It wasn’t until a climbing rope was ripped through one of the girls' hands on screen that you gave in. The shot of blood spurting dramatically from her palm made your stomach turn. You gasped and instinctually looked away, pressing your closed eyes against Viktors arm as you cringed. He grabbed your knee then, squeezing gently.

“It’s over,” He whispered close to your head after a moment.

You took a deep breath and looked back up, the image gone from the screen. He retreated his hand from your knee as you relaxed back into watching. Not long after this, Jayce paused the movie, standing up and stretching his back.

“All right, intermission or I’m gonna piss myself,” He said, leaving to use the bathroom.

“Booo,” Vi whined, chucking a pillow at his back as he left. Cait giggled and placed a hand over her girlfriend's mouth.

Lest leaned her head on your shoulder, looking up at you with puppy dog eyes, “Grab me my water bottle?”

“Brat,” You pushed her off, but stood up anyways, “Where is it?”

“In my bag on the hook,” She called after you as you went to get it. 

A few of the others hopped up to grab things or readjust how they were sitting. When you handed Lest her water bottle and settled back down into your seat, you felt like you had less space. You couldn’t tell if the cramped feeling was in your head or not, and you decided to ignore it. You pulled your leg back up underneath you and ended up resting the edge of your knee on Viktor’s thigh. 

“So, is this a good horror movie based on your criteria?” He asked, not reacting to the contact.

“Eh, hard to say,” You told him with a shrug, “So far it’s good, but it definitely loses points for that rope vs hand situation. Plus, it’s not over. The last, like, twenty minutes are make or break for a horror movie.”

“You’ll have to give me your official opinion at the end,” He said, tapping your knee.

“Don’t worry, Viktor,” Lest said, leaning over you towards him, “She’ll give everyone her opinion when it’s over, she always does.”

“What?” You gasped at your roommate.

“It’s true, you make your opinion very known,” Cait said, standing in front of the couch with her digital camera, “now, smile!”

You flipped her off when the camera flashed. When Jayce got back, everyone settled back in to finish the movie. At some point, you weren’t sure exactly when, but Viktor’s hand found yours in the space created by your knee propped against his thigh. He didn’t react at all, there was no outside sign to anyone else that he was sliding his cold fingers against your palm. You weren’t sure he even knew he was doing it, not until you laced your fingers with his. He took a deep breath, easily playing it off as a reaction to the movie, but you could feel his pulse quicken when you squeezed his hand gently. You stayed like that the rest of the movie, hardly able to focus on anything that was happening on screen with the weight of his hand in yours.

On the drive home, you were sure lest was going to explode. She sat in the passenger seat of your tiny pickup truck, practically vibrating as you drove back to campus. Sky leaning against the window in the backseat sleepily. A few times she almost asked. You could see her from the corner of your eye, leaning in, biting at her nail, mouth opening to say something and closing it before she could. 

As soon as Sky was out of earshot, up the steps towards her own dorm building, Lest stopped holding back.

“Did you fuck him again?” She hissed, throwing you off balance as she latched onto you

“Jesus Christ Lest,” You grimaced, shoving her off, “No, why would you think that.”

“Because he wouldn't stop looking at you like you’d given him the best head of his life,” She told you matter of factly.

“Okay, first of all, no he wasn’t,” You scoffed, “And second, I told you I turned him down. I’m not planning to go back on that anytime soon.”

“Okay, so you're blind, good to know,” She said, tapping her ID and holding the door open for you, “And does not anytime soon mean sometime in the future?”

“I don’t know, maybe,” You pulled your ears to your shoulders, stomping up the stairs.

“Whatever you say,” She sang as you reached your room. You groaned and dropped yourself face down into your bed, “But I’m not the one wearing his last name on my back."

You stiffened, forgetting about the shirt you were wearing. She had you there, for sure. You realized you hadn’t mentioned it to anyone. You wondered what they thought. If anyone even noticed. You hoped that they had come to the correct conclusion that your shirt was a casualty in the hand accident. Jayce and Cait and Vi were the only ones that knew you were alone with him. The two girls did find you clinging on to him like your life depended on it, and Jayce had found both of you in Viktor’s room. You debated if it was worth it to clarify to the three of them that you and Viktor were not fucking. Then again, if they weren't already thinking that was the case, it would sound very suspicious for you to bring it up.

“I’m gonna go shower,” She told you, gathering her things, “No masterbating while I’m gone.”

   “Ew, lest shut the fuck up,” You groaned, flinging a pillow at the door as it closed. 

You rolled over in bed, staring up at the ceiling and rubbing the hem of the shirt between your fingers. You had two of his shirts, and now that you were thinking about it, he had two of yours. You gave in to the urge and pulled the neckline of the borrowed shirt to your nose. Unsurprisingly it smelled like him. When you closed your eyes you could picture yourself standing back in his bedroom, as close to him as you wanted to be. The smell of honey and black tea and orange filled your head, an underlying scent of something that was just him . Human and warm and soft. 

You pressed the heels of your hands into your eyes, willing away the thoughts of him. You grabbed your phone, hoping for a distraction. You had barely even unlocked it when an Instagram notification sprung up. 

kirraman.cait has tagged you in a post  

You opened the app to see that Cait had posted the photos she took on her digital camera. They were cute, all time stamped from just a few hours ago. There was a barely focused selfie of Cait and Vi with their cheeks pressed together, and a picture of Jayce, Ekko, and Jinx in the kitchen finishing the tamales, and a few other cute ones that you were going to ask Cait to send you. The last one was of You, Lest, and Viktor sitting on the couch. It was the moment that you had flipped her off, an unamused look on your face as both Viktor and Lest laughed. 

He was tagged as well. You stared at the little its_viktor hovering over his head in the photo. You chewed on your lip, debating. It was just social media. It would be weird if you weren't friends online, honestly. You click on his profile, grateful that it was public. Only ten posts and about as many followers as accounts he followed. You clicked on the newest one, a mirror picture of him in his bathroom holding up Rio, no caption but the photo was also his profile picture. 

You kept scrolling, there was at least four months between posts, sometimes even a whole year, and most were captionless. One of the few to have a caption was him in a hospital bed, looking fresh out of a surgery and giving a weak thumbs up. The caption read ‘Žil jsem, děvko.’, you snorted when the translation told you it said ‘I lived, bitch.’ in english. The rest were fairly simple. Photos of landscapes, the university he transferred from, a highschool graduation picture, some harmless device he made as a camp counselor, decorated with stickers and plastic gems by whatever kids he was working with. 

The very first one was your favorite. A selfie of the 17-year-old versions of Viktor and Jayce. Jayce was holding the camera with one hand and the other arm slung over Viktor’s shoulders, squeezing him close. Both boys beamed at the camera, looking younger than you could even imagine them being. You could tell they were wearing matching t-shirts, probably from the Young Innovators Program they had met in so many years ago. Jayce’s current instagram was tagged in it, and you were a little surprised that you had never come across Viktor’s page before. Maybe you had and just didn’t realize it. The blush across Viktor’s cheeks was endearing, seeing them so close together was sweet. Until today you hadn’t been in the same room with both Jayce and Viktor at the same time. It was a little jarring how different they were, both physically and in personality. In a way, it made sense that they were such good friends. 

You double tapped the photo without thinking. A white heart popping up over the photo for half a second. In the other half of that second, your heart dropped. 

“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.” You muttered, unliking the photo and closing out the app. You dropped your phone on your chest and slung an arm over your eyes, “Fuck!”

Only a second went by before your phone vibrated. You were borderline crushed to see a text from Viktor. His number wasn’t saved in your phone yet, you had been putting it off after Jinx added you to the group chat, but you knew it was him

I saw that.

You debated blocking him, or maybe moving to another state.

I don’t know what ur talking about

You were never going to hear the end of this from Lest. 

Ya, sure you don’t.

Only a moment later and a new notification popped up on the top of your screen.

Its_viktor liked your photo

You clicked on the notification. It brought you to one of your posts from almost 3 years ago. It was one from your trip to Greece right after graduation. You were in the ocean, holding onto the side of a paddleboard with one hand with a small red octopus tangling around the other. Your cheeks were red enough to match the cephalopod, but you were smiling wide anyway. Aside from the notification there was no evidence that Viktor had liked the photo. 

You opened his profile back up, hit the follow button, and turned your phone off. You laid there staring up at the ceiling and wishing he had been rude about the incident. Of course he wasn’t. He was the perfect fucking lab partner, and he was going to haunt you all semester.

Chapter Text

Weeks went by and nothing changed. You continued to hold your ground and Viktor continued to be respectful. It wasn’t hard for him to stay that way. He was good at keeping his thoughts inside his head, he only verbalized the exact information he wanted others to know. With you, there was so much he wanted you to know and plenty he wanted to keep to himself. He wanted you to know how brilliant he thought you were. He wanted you to know that he thought you were funny and kind and interesting. He wanted you to know that he cared about you, that he wanted you to be happy.

Really the only thing he wanted to keep you from knowing was how bad he wanted to fuck you. It wasn’t like he was thinking about having sex with you constantly… just frequently. Most of the time, it wasn’t even the things that you would do that made him feel like that. It was entirely his fault. He’d catch himself staring at your face, thinking about how you looked when you came. Sometimes your hair would fall in a way that made him want to tangle it in his fist. Once you had worn a sundress while your whole group of friends laid out on the quad on a particularly sunny afternoon. You were laying on your back, holding a printed out article above you to read, your feet bare and ankles crossed. Viktor did his best not to stare at you, horrified you’d be able to tell how badly he wanted to shove his face between your thighs. 

It was only once that he had nearly broken his composure. It had been a Wednesday afternoon, your OChem group had planned to meet up to go over the homework before the weekly dinner get-together. It wasn't until he was already sitting at the kitchen table with you that Jinx texted the group chat to let you know that her and Ekko weren’t going to make it. It would have been ridiculous for you to drive back to your dorm just to come back a few hours later, so you ended up staying. The two of you decide to work through the homework without the others.

You had been making steady progress until Cait and Vi arrived home and promptly began a very loud Just Dance competition in the living room. You had immediately pulled out your phone to secretly record them from the table

“Do you want to study in my room?” He asked as you sent the video to the group chat.

“Definitely,” You told him, closing your book and gathering your things, “I really don’t want to be out here when Vi sees that video.”

You and him slipped into his room, the sound of the girlfriends in the living room muffled but still audible. You bid a sweet hello to Rio before settling on the edge of Viktor’s bed. He watched as you criss-crossed your legs under yourself and opened the textbook up on your lap. “Oh, i’m sorry,” You said, stiffening when you realized he was staring at you, “I can sit somewhere else if you-”

“No,” he said too quickly, feeling his face so red at his slip, “No, it’s fine. I don’t care.”

He cared so much he could implode.

“Are you sure?” You asked, already ready to stand up.

“Really, it’s okay,” He brushed it off, reminding himself how to breathe as he sat down at his desk, cane leaning against the side, “It’s just that you shouldn’t do homework in bed.”

“Hm, why’s that?” You tilted your head at him, lips pursing slightly. 

“It’s hard to focus in the place where you sleep,” He shrugged, looking away from your lips and opening up his text book, “and if you do work where you sleep, it makes it harder to sleep.”

You laughed louder than he expected. He furrowed his eyebrows, “What?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” You raised your eyebrows at him, “but I don’t sleep here, this is your bed, Viktor.”

“Ah, yes,” He nodded, “that is true.”

‘Please sleep in my bed,’ He begged you in his head, ‘please please stay. Make it smell like you. Make it yours.’

More thoughts he didn’t want you to know. He turned back to his text book and jumped right into the work, doing his best to sweep the thoughts out of his mind. As far as he could tell, you didn’t make note of the interaction. The two of you fell into a steady rhythm of studying. You took turns asking each other practice questions and trying to explain the concepts of stereochemistry out loud. Eventually the words began to blur in front of Viktor’s eyes. The figures and equations became messy ink on paper. He groaned and stood up, leaning his hip against the desk as he stretched his back. He watched you still on his bed, too focused to notice his movement. He scooped up his textbook and abandoned his cane to take a few slow steps over to sit next to you. 

“Giving up?” You asked, smirking up at him. 

“No,” He assured, pulling his good leg onto the bed, “Just needed a change of location.”

“Oh, what happened to ‘you shouldn't study in bed’, huh?” You teased, nudging him with your elbow. 

“Hm, I think once will be fine, no?” He raised an eyebrow, hyper aware of where his knee was touching your hip. 

You didn’t say anything, just laughed softly in response. He loved the sound, wished he could listen to you laugh forever. Instead of letting him open his own textbook, you slid yours over so that it was resting in both of your laps. You leaned in close to him, pointed out one of the figures that didn’t quite make sense. He resisted the urge to press his nose into your hair to breathe you in. He did his best to ignore your proximity and focus on the work in front of him instead. Eventually your presence settled from a pounding in his head and heart to a dull tap instead. 

Then it was you who got antsy. You dropped your face into your palms and groaned dramatically.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Your words are muffled by your hands, “I’m dropping out.”

“If you do that, you won’t be able to live with Lest anymore,” He pointed out, “Or go to parties.”

“Ugh, you're right.” You stood up, pushing the book over to him and began pacing around his room, “I hate that this is hard. Science has never been hard, but this makes absolutely no sense.”

“If it was easy, it would be boring,” He closed the book and set it down next to him, “Besides, you’ll get it.”

“Will I though?” You asked sarcastically, hands on top of your head.

“Yes, you’ve made it this far,” He shrugged, leaning back on his palms, eyes following your path, “and from what I’ve gathered, you are far too stubborn to quit anything.”

“Is that a dig or a compliment,” You scoffed, still pacing.

“A compliment, I assure you.” He laughed, “Listen, I think we’ve done enough for one day. We’ll come back to it tomorrow or something, when we don’t feel like we’re going crazy.”

“Okay,” You sighed, but the tension in your shoulders didn’t let up. Viktor frowned, thinking for a moment.

“There’s CD’s on the shelf over there,” He told you, pointing towards his bookshelf, “Grab one to play and relax for a minute, yeah?”

He watched you hesitate for a moment, standing in the middle of the room unsure. He nodded, encouraging you to go on. You stood in front of his shelf, finger pressed to your lip as you read through the spines in search of something. 

“Oh no way,” You laughed, opening up the familiar CD case and popping the disc into the player.

“You know Deerlady?” He asked.

“Do I know Deerlady? You scoffed, tapping your fingers against your hip to the sound “How do you know Dearlady?”

“Found that CD at a bookstore this summer” He explained, “Wasn’t sure about it at first, but it turned out very good.”

“Hm, I’m glad you like,” You sat back down next to him on the bed, lying back with your legs hanging off the edge, “They’re from Maine, ya know.”

“Is that right?” He asked, tilting his head to look down at you.

“Yup,” You nodded as you listened to the music, “I saw them open for…someone like a year or so ago. They were so good, like so so good. I can’t even remember the headliner.”

“It’s very pretty music,” He agreed, leaning back to lay next to you, “Haunting.”

“Mhm,” You hummed, closing your eyes, “Exactly. Hauntingly beautiful…”

He turned his head, looking at the side of your face as you mouthed along to half the lines. He felt like he was drowning. Unable to breath when he looked at you. He rarely had a poetic mind, but every beautiful word and phrase in every language he knew blew around his head when he looked at you. He couldn't help it. The way your eyelashes brushed against the tops of your cheeks, the flush of your skin, your teeth, your lips. Everything about you made him feel high.

Infatuation. That’s what this was. He’d call it that because obsession was too harsh of a word. He couldn’t remember a single time he’s felt like this since becoming an adult only a handful of years ago. Part of him hated that it was you who gave him this feeling. You, a girl who is so resistant and headstrong and unavailable it drove him to madness. He lay there, watching you as long as he could. He didn’t look away when you opened your eyes and turned your head to him. Your pretty face and messy hair only centimeters away from his. He had almost closed the distance. He knew how nice it would feel to kiss you. He could practically taste you already, the strawberry chapstick you had put on earlier, the coffee you had in class, your smooth teeth against his tongue. He wanted you under him, he wanted your hands on his shoulders, on his chest, in his hair, everywhere . He wanted it more than he wanted anything else in the world. 

He couldn’t. You had made it very clear what you wanted. Whatever happened had to be initiated by you. He wouldn’t ask, would do his best not to reach out and touch you, would respect your decision. If you wanted to touch him, to kiss him, he would let you with no hesitation, but you had to make that decision. So he didn’t close the distance. He watched you watch him until the CD stopped.

That night, late after everyone had gone back to their own homes, Viktor could smell you on his blanket still. The scent of your conditioner and perfume lingering. He pressed his nose into the fabric as he wrapped his hand around himself. Shameful tears prickled in his eyes as he panted and whined face down to the thought of you. He muttered your name like a prayer when he came.

The shame of that night followed Viktor all the way to Monday morning. The guilt of it ate at his insides to the point that his physical form began to ache. Maybe the pain in his back and leg and hip was unrelated to what he had done, maybe it was karma for disrespecting you. Regardless of the reason, it was the perfect excuse to avoid you. He had abandoned class on Friday and declined your offer to bring him the lecture notes. On Saturday he ignored your message asking if he was coming to The Last Drop with everyone else. His very curt ‘ No. ’ was enough to make you stop texting him the rest of the weekend. 

The worst part was the fact that Viktor hadn’t expected to feel so guilty. Sure, he didn’t feel great going in. There was certainly a reason he had held off on acting on the urge. He had gotten off to images of people he knew before. It was normal, according to the articles he read, to think of friends sexually. As long as you aren't hurting anyone, and he certainly wasn’t. You didn’t even know what he had done, and you would never know as long as he had a say. Despite the rational part of his brain telling him to let the incident go, he could barely look you in the eyes when you sat down next to him in class on Monday.

“Goodmorning,” You said pointedly, trying to look him in the face.

“‘Morning,” He nodded, hiding his face in the textbook.

“Are you feeling okay?” You asked, concerned.

“I’m fine.” His words were short.

He did his best to ignore the indignant huff you let out as you retreated back to your seat. He kept his distance during the entire lecture, angling his chair away from you. Doing his best not to look at you. He knew this was wrong, that he was ridiculously swinging too far in the other direction, but he didn’t know how to stop. He felt like a very defensive runaway train of emotions and he had placed you directly in the path of it. 

When the lecture ended and the groups rose to move to the lab portion, he moved away from you as fast as he could.

“Oh dear,” Hiemerdinger complained from the lab, “It seems like the TA’s forgot to restock. Would two people volunteer to head to the supply closet to retrieve boxes of gloves.”

“I’ll do it!” You practically yelled, hand shooting up, composing yourself slightly, you grabbed Viktor by the arm, “Um, Me and Viktor can do it.”

You ignored the look he gave you.

“Thank you very much dear,” Heimerdinger beamed, walking over to you and handing you the key, “I understand this is a one person job, but I must follow the rule of two when giving out my key.”

“No, that totally makes sense,” You assured, “We’ll be right back.”

It was too late for Viktor to back out, Heimerdinger was already walking away and addressing the rest of the class. You had made it to the door way already, standing there and waiting impatiently for him. He stood there for a moment, unmoving. 

“Well, come on,” You huffed, waving at him.

He let a heavy breath out through his nose, shaking his head as he gave in. As soon as the door shut behind him, you turned on him. Grabbing him roughly by the sleeve and making him stop to face you.

“What is going on with you?” You hissed, glaring up at him.

“I dont know what you are talking about,” He said firmly

“Did  I do something wrong?” You asked him, “Did I offend you or make you uncomfortable or something? Or did you just decide to hate me all of the sudden?”

“I do not hate you,” He frowned, “You didn’t do anything, everything is fine.”

“I don’t believe you,” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“It’s not you,” He racked his brain for a half truth, “I just… I can be mean when I feel unwell.” That had been true at one point, “I try to distance myself to prevent…fallout.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me that, then?” You did your best not to pout.

“Because, telling people how I feel leads to a lot of coddling and well wishing,” Viktor rolled his eyes, “and that's sometimes worse than the pain.”

You sighed, mouth twisted to the side as you thought, “So you don’t hate me?”

“Not in the slightest,” He assured you.

“And you're not upset with me? I didn’t give you the ick?” You joked, nudging him in the arm.

“Nope,” He shook his head, then sighed “I’m sorry I worried you.”

“It’s fine… are you feeling better today?” You shrugged, “Like, better enough to come out next weekend on my boat with everyone?”

“You have a boat?”

“Well, my dad has a boat and  I get to borrow it on Saturday,” You told him, “and…you’ll come, right?”

“Of course,” He nodded, trying to remain casual. You  wanted him to come, and to Viktor that was promising. 

“Good,” You relaxed, then reached out for his wrist, “And you are feeling better, right?”

“Yes, I feel okay today,” He assured you, “mostly, but maybe let me wait here while you go grab the gloves?”

“Oh, uh yeah of course,” You blushed, “Sorry, um, I’ll be right back.”

He watched as you darted away down the hall, head ducked to hide the red in your cheeks. This was the first moment in days that his… disrespect wasn’t on his mind. He could feel the guilt drain out of him, all the rationalizing he had done this weekend finally catching up. The feeling of being wanted by you, in any capacity, canceling out everything else.

On Saturday morning the residents of the Rune Street house - including Vi and Mel - crammed themselves and several cases of alcohol into Jayce’s Prius. Despite the full car, there were no complaints on the hour or so drive to the Marina. Apparently this boat situation had become a yearly tradition, and Viktor could tell how excited the others were. It was a contagious energy. 

When they reached the Marina, the parking lot was already bustling with people eager to take advantage of what was most likely the last hot weekend of the year. Viktor followed behind the group, trusting them to know where to go. It wasn’t hard to spot the right boat. The medium sized fishing trawler stood out amongst the fresh and sleek sporting boats and yachts that took up most of the Marina. 

When they reached the boat, the door in the side wall was already open, a wooden board connecting the floor of the deck to the dock. Jayce and Vi set down the cases in a shady spot. Viktor carefully crossed the board into the boat, taking a second to get a bearing of the rock of the waves and texture of the floor under his shoes. Luckily his cane didn’t resist the wet deck, keeping him steady, and the KT tape he had opted to use today instead of his brace felt like it would hold up.

“You good, V?” Jayce asked quietly, assessing his friend's state.

“Yeah, all good.” Viktor assured him with a nod, hoping Jayce would keep the kind, yet misplaced, worrying to a minimum today.

That was enough for Jayce for now. He helped Mel across the board and then led the group in search of you. They found you in the captain's seat in the helm of the vessel. Your knee was pulled to your chest, chin resting on the top as you read over a clipboard full of papers.

When you noticed their entrance, you sat up in the chair, dropping your leg and swiveling to face them.

“You’re here!” You smiled, looking at home in the space, “I was worried traffic was going to be bad.”

“It wasn’t great, but we left a little early,” Cait explained, then looked around the cabin space, “Is Lest not coming?”

“No, she’ll be here,” You explained, “Her and Sky went to pick up ice, they’ll be here in a minute. Actually, would one or two of y’all help them drag it down here?”

“Yeah, I’ve got it,” Jayce offered immediately, always helpful, “Should I head over now or…”

“Yeah, they’ll for real be here in, like, two minutes,” You told him waving him off, “Thank you!”

Jayce hurried off to help the two girls, leaving the others behind. 

“You look cute,” Mel smirked, snapping the strap of your red one piece against your shoulder, “Very conservative .”

“Okay, first of all, rude. I left my other one at home and it’s the end of the season,” You gawked, brushing her hand away as she giggled, “and second, wait till you see it without the shorts. This thing is borderline explicit.” You cringed.

“Is that a promise, Miss Lifeguard?” Mel dramatically draped her arms over your shoulders, clinging to you and looking up with over-done doe eyes,“Will you give me mouth to mouth?”

“Get off of me you, you harlot,” You laughed, pushing her face away as she tried to kiss your cheek. Mel giggled, ducking away from you as you swatted at her, “I’ve got stuff to finish up before we go. Go chill out, will ya.”

The three girls laughed as they headed back out to get settled on the deck. Viktor hovered, not because of you - not like he didn’t already notice that the top of your swimsuit wasn’t padded or that the sides were cut high enough to see the skin of your hips over the top of your denim shorts or the way your hair was already starting to become frizzy from the ocean air - but because of the equipment in the helm of the boat.

“Everything is so..” Viktor tried to think of the right word in English to describe the meticulously organized and labeled components on the control panel, walls and ceiling, “úhledný…uh, tidy.”

“That’s one way to put it,” You laughed softly, looking up and around at the boat, “My dad likes things a particular way.”

“Clearly,” He took a hesitant step forward, looking closer at the equipment, noticing something odd, “Hm this is all very-”

“Outdated?” You scoffed, guessing what he was going to say, “Yeah, I know.”

“Why? Jayce made it sound like your father was very successful,” He said without thinking, immediately trying to back track, “I mean, not that he isn’t, or...”

You waved him off with a laugh, “No, I know what you mean. Like, if he’s so successful why does he have an absolutely ancient sonar system?”

“Uh, yeah,” Viktor’s shoulders were tense from the fumbled words.

“He is the number one believer of ‘if it’s not broke, don’t fix it’,” You explained, swiveling back and forth in the chair, apparently unbothered by Viktor’s choice of words, “He managed to make ends meet and feed a community with what he already had, there wasn’t a reason to update it.”

“Hm, interesting,” He leaned down, inspecting the board closer and taking note of the smooth wear on the controls, “Everything is in very good condition,”

“Yep, keep things clean, take care of them, and they’ll last forever,” He felt like there was something else hiding under your words, “I mean unless a boat is sunk or grounded, there really isn’t a reason to get a new one. This thing is from ‘79 and aside from aesthetic choices, you’d never know.”

“The engine?” He raised a curious eyebrow.

“Fucking pristine,” You emphasized, “I helped build it, like, two summers ago. I can show you if you want.

“I’d love to see,” That wasn’t a lie at all, any chance to get eyes on a different type of engine and Viktor was all for it, “This vessel is incredibly clean, it’s very impressive.”

“Yeah, it’s why I get to use her actually,” You told him, “She gets sent down here from Winter Harbour once a year to be cleaned. Like, cleaned, cleaned . It’s another reason everything is in such good shape. This time last week she was covered bow to stern in fish guts. Today, you’d never be able to tell.”

“He sends it all the way down the coast just to be cleaned?” Viktor tilted his head to the side, “That is inefficient, no?”

“Eh, maybe,” You agreed, watching him step closer and look over the different gauges, “,but he trusts the crew that does it. He’d rather spend the money to haul it down here and have the job done right than be unsatisfied with it being done somewhere else.”

“Your father is an interesting man,” Viktor smiled, then thought to himself, ‘I hope I have the pleasure of meeting him one day.’

“Yep,” You laughed fondly, “Thank god for that, I’d be incredibly boring otherwise.”

“Incredibly,” He teased, “You’d be like Maddie.”

“Oh my god,” You gasped, laughing and shoving him in the arm, “I don’t think I could ever be that bad.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” He ducked away, laughing with you as he held his hands up in defense, “that was mean.”

“Very mean. To me, not to her,” You scrunch your nose at the idea of being nice to Cait’s insane ex-girlfriend. The sounds of Jinx - and presumably also Ekko - very excitedly arriving brought your conversation to a close, “Oh fuck, I have got to finish this float plan. Tell the others I’ll be out in a sec?”

“Yeah, of course,” Viktor agreed, heading to the door.

“Oh wait, you can swim right?” You asked, scribbling information across pages, glancing up to tell him, “Cause I will make you wear a life jacket if you can’t.”

“Better than I can walk,” Viktor assured you, tapping his cane against the side of his leg, “this thing is almost functional in water.”

“Okay good, you pass.” You went back to the paper, “Now get, you’re a distraction.”

When he walked back out onto the bright deck, Viktor tried to calm himself. It felt like a triumph to be called your distraction.

Eventually, when all the paperwork was done and everything was secured, Jayce and Vi helped you pull in the mooring lines and you set off. Everyone but you hung out on the deck. Lest tried to get you to take a shot with the rest of them, you reminded her that you were in fact operating a vehicle. She called you lame. At some point, Viktor forced himself to stop hovering. He reminded himself that he had other friends, most of which were fairly new and he really should get to know them. 

He let Jayce put a cheap beer in his hand, the condensation on the outside making him cringe, and he stood around just talking, or mostly listening. Ekko spoke to him about a personal project he was working on that had something to do with the theory of time. Viktor made note to return to this idea at a time when neither he nor Ekko were drinking. Jinx and Vi tried to get him to settle a debate, but Viktor was truly unable to tell what they were debating. The sisters bickered back and forth before eventually deciding the only way to win whatever argument this was, was to see who could shotgun a seltzer faster. Entertaining until Vi gagged and nearly threw up. Cait and Jayce were also up to some semi-sibling bickering. This was easier for Viktor to follow; Cait didn’t see a reason to randomly give Vi flowers, Jayce thinks this is ridiculous and claims that he gives flowers to Mel at least every other week. Cait doesn’t believe him. Jayce pulls up the receipts on his phone. Viktor tells them that there is nothing wrong with either of their perspectives. Mel likes flowers constantly, she should get them. Vi has no strong desire for flowers, they’re probably appreciated but not a necessity. Jayce booed him for being pragmatic. 

Unfortunately, Lest and Mel didn’t give him the opportunity to stay quiet. They interrogated Viktor like journalists. What town was he from? Was he straight? Did he have a secret partner back home? Did he plan to stay in the U.S. forever? Was he a virgin? Was he actually in love with Jayce?  Viktor appeased the girls by answering simply. Černošice. Not exactly. No. Possibly. No. Also, no. Both asked him out of prying curiosity, but there was something just a little different behind Lest’s words and expressions. At that moment he knew that she knew about what had happened in the garage.  She was interrogating him specifically as your friend. 

Eventually the boat came to a drifting stop. Lest tilted her head, the teasking look behind her eyes telling him he was certainly saved by the bell. He was grateful when you came trotting out the helm to drop anchor. The spot was gorgeous. Just underneath a tall bluff and nestled between several rock formations pulling themselves out of the water just off shore. The sun reflected off the water, the waves broken up and made gentle by the pillars of rock.

“Cool, right?” You said, suddenly by his elbow, smiling at the awe on his face.

“This is incredible,” He breathed, looking up. Sea birds flocked around their unseen nests at the tops of the pillars. 

“Best unknown place out here,” You told him, accepting a Corona from Lest now that the boat was turned off.

“How can this place be unknown?” Viktor turned his eyes to the mainland, green grass reflecting silver as the wind blew through it. There was nothing else but a field at the top of the bluff.

“Local’s keep it a secret,” You shrugged, “That’s private land right there and the only people that boat this far South are commercial fishermen, usually.”

“And you’re a local?” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“Yessir,” You nodded, then pointed East out towards the open water, “and my dad used to fish, like, 6 miles out that way.”

“You came here as a kid?” 

“Yep,” You pushed a slice of lime into the bottle and took a sip, “A couple times a summer at least.” 

Before Viktor could ask anything else, Jayce loped up and hooked an arm over his shoulder to drag him into a game of beer pong against Mel and Sky. You laughed at the exaggerated fearful look he threw over his shoulder as he was pulled away to the table. The game was easy, he sunk every ball and almost felt bad at the rate he was making the girls drink. At the end Mel demanded a mix and rematch. She sent Viktor to stand next to Sky and took her place next to her boyfriend. This game was much less successful. Sky was already tipsy at the start of this round and continuously distracted herself by asking Viktor questions. He answered cordially and made sure to ask her just as many, hoping to not hurt her feelings. Eventually Viktor decided to cut Sky off, drinking double to keep her from poisoning herself an hour into the day.

He let Sky hold on to him when she reached out to steady herself, but didn’t reciprocate the action aside from grabbing her a few times before she tipped over. After catching the look that Mel threw to Sky, he began to think he may have been set up. As the game neared its end, he began to worry about what to do about her. Sky was lovely. She deserved someone that wasn’t pining over a different girl, and that wasn’t him. Maybe he’d mention it to Jayce, see if Mel could call her off…or he could just be a man about it and let her down himself. His worrying was interrupted by you and Lest. Viktor tried to ignore the fact that you had stripped off your jean shorts and were in fact not exaggerating when you called the bottom half of the one piece ‘borderline explicit’.

“Did everyone put on sunscreen?” Lest asked as you and her approached the table, both armed with bottles of SPF 50.

“Yes mom ,” Sky giggled, cheeks flushed as she swayed lightly on her feet.

“Liar!” Lest accused, walking up behind Sky and tapping a finger against her already reddening shoulder, “You missed like half of your body.”

Sky hissed as Lest dumped the cold sunscreen on her shoulder, flinching away and complaining, “I don’t like how it smells.” She let Lest touch her anyways. 

“Well, you’re gonna not like how your skin feels in an hour more, ” You informed her, then turned to Viktor with a raised eyebrow, “What about you?”

“SPF 70,” He assured you, vaguely gesturing to the pale skin off his arms, “I’d be dead already without it.”

“Hm, did you get your face?” You squinted at him, “Because your cheeks are red,”

‘Yeah, ‘cause you're half naked in front of me right now,’ He thought to himself, and then said out loud, “I guess I forgot.”

“That's what I thought,” You scoffed, “Come here.”

He hesitated for a second, watching as you poured a small amount out onto your fingers. You held your hands out expectantly, nodding for him to come closer. He obeyed, stepping forward and dropping his face just enough for you to reach. You didn’t hesitate to touch him, watching your own hands as they smoothed the sunscreen across his face. With you this close to him in the bright sun he could see every detail of your face. Unashamedly he studied the color of your eyes, the dozens of shades that blended around your dark pupils, expanding and contracting just slightly as you looked around his face. The mark from the sunglasses that were now being used to hold your messy hair back away from your face was still pressed into your nose, just the slightest dent in your smooth skin. A years old scar was placed in the hollow of your cheek, so faint it would probably disappear within a year or two. The light pressure of your fingers moving against his skin felt like the only thing holding him to the planet right now. A sunscreen covered tether brushing gently across his cheeks and chin, carefully under his eye and all the way to the tips of his ears. The lotion was cool, but may as well have been boiling the way blood rushed to the upper layers of his skin.

“You know, sun exposure is worse for you than smoking,” You told him matter-of-factly, pushing hair off his forehead to keep sunscreen out of it as you rubbed your thumbs across his temples.

“I do not think that is true,” He laughed, staring at the light sheen of sweat already gathering at your hairline. He wanted to lick it away. 

“Totally is,” You scrunched your nose insistently.

“I am sure you are lying, but I’ll believe you anyway.” He told you, hoping his words didn't come off as desperate as they felt.

“As you should.” You nodded curtly, rubbing your thumbs under his jaw and dragging your hands down the column of his throat and back of his neck, the light pressure making his heart skip. You patted your hand against his chest, “All done.”

“Thank you.” He said standing upright, as you stepped away.

“Of course,” You told him, taking the sunscreen across the way to Jayce and Mel. Viktor did his best not to stare at the exposed skin of your ass as you walked away.

“Captains gotta take care of her crew,” Lest said dramatically, following you to the couple at the other end after finishing with Sky. You rolled your eyes at her with a scoff.

“Hey, I want everyone to have fun, and being burnt to a crisp is not fun.” You told them, pouring sunscreen into Jayce’s hand and letting him put it on his own face. Only because he was too tall for you to reach, Viktor told himself.

“Very thoughtful of you,” Mel said sweetly, lightly tapping your chin, “We appreciate it.”

“Well, of course ,” You beamed at her, copying her accent. With that, you and Lest were off to find the rest of your friends to smother in SPF 50. As Jayce gathered up the ping pong balls to finish up the game, Viktor did his best not to stare after you like an abandoned pet and avoid the disappointed look in Sky’s eyes at the same time.

As the day went on, Viktor became more and more grateful you had insisted on sunscreen. The sun stayed high overhead, shrinking the shadows of the rocks and boat to nearly nothing. Once Sky had sobered up enough, the group took to the water. JInx immediately began scaling one of the pillars, jumping from a ledge ten meters up. She coaxed Jayce into doing it, too, although he didn’t stray above the five meter mark. Lest and Mel laid on some rocks just above the water line, salt drying on their skin as they absorbed the sun. 

Vi was arguing with Ekko over who would win if they were to race to a nearby buoy and back. Apparently last year they had the same argument, but never made it around to actually competing against each other.

“Why don’t you just race?” Viktor asked from where he was sitting on the edge of the rocks, calves in the water.

“Because Vi knows she’ll lose,” You told him, you were on your back, swimming in lazy circles around the pair.

“No way I’d lose!” Vi scoffed, offended.

“Then race,” Cait shrugged, leaning back on her palms where she sat next to Viktor. She raised a challenging eyebrow at her girlfriend.

“She won’t!” Ekko laughed, splashing water at Vi, “She doesn’t want to risk getting shown up.”

“In your dreams Little Man,” Vi said, invoking the childhood nickname that Viktor had heard her use only a couple of times before, “I can swim laps around you. I could swim laps around all of you.”

“Okay, let’s do it,” You stopped your circles, swimming closer to the rocks, “Let’s race.”

“You want to race me?” Vi laughed.

“I love you for your confidence, Vi,” You gave her a sarcastic smile, “Yes. Race us. If you think you can swim circles around us, prove it.”

“All of you?” Vi barked another laugh, nerves edging into the sound, “Yeah sure, let’s do it.”

“You two gonna participate?” You asked Cait and Viktor, swimming up to the space beside them.

“Yeah right,” Cait scoffed, shaking her head and eyeing the open ocean past the rocks, “I’m not swimming that far out,”

“Lame,” You groaned, “I wouldn’t let them do it if it wasn’t safe.”

“I’ll do it,” Viktor shrugged, ignoring the sideways glance Cait cast towards him.

“Really?” He was glad that the question from you was tinged with excitement as opposed to doubt.

“Yeah,” He told you, moving over as you pulled yourself out of the water, “I told you, I swim better than I walk.”

Ekko and Vi followed, the four of you lining up on the edge of the rocks as rules were established. The first to make it out, around the buoy, and back wins nothing but bragging rights. Viktor ignored the attitude Vi had about him participating. It was one that most people had when going up against him physically. Clearly she didn’t want to leave him out of it, but beating the disabled kid in a race wasn’t anything to brag about. He brushed it off. He knew what the outcome of this race was going to be. 

Cait stood to the side, waiting for everyone to settle into starting positions. When they deemed themselves ready, Cait counted down and let them go. All four of you dove into the water with varying levels of skill. It had been a couple years since Viktor had swam like this, but his muscles remembered the motion. The waves threw him off for a moment, catching him in a way that threw off his steady rhythm. It only took a moment for him to adjust, his arms cutting through the water at a rapid pace. His weaker leg kicked with less force, but the other made up for it. The motion was so familiar, it felt good to be pushing himself through the water. He felt younger. As soon as he had readjusted for the moving water, he lost sight of you and Ekko and Vi. 

As the water cooled and became darker underneath him, Viktor knew he was reaching the buoy. He began to look for it each time he tilted his head to draw in a breath. When he found it, he made a tight curve to get around it. He was close enough to kick off the side, giving him a few extra easy meters. Eventually he could hear the muffled sound of Cait cheering his name from the starting place. 

He stopped, breathing heavy as he grabbed onto the rocks with one hand, the other swiping water out of his eyes, contacts blurry. Viktor blinked and looked back to see Ekko only a couple of meters behind him. Cait cheered on you and Vi, both of you another couple of meters behind Ekko. As Ekko reached the rock, Viktor pulled himself up out of the water, sitting back in the place where he had been earlier. Ekko shook his hair as he came up out of the water, making Cait yelp and shield herself from the spray. 

“That was impressive,” Ekko laughed, knocking a fist against Viktor’s thigh as he tried to catch his breath.

“Eh, sure” Viktor shrugged off the compliment as you and Vi reached them, stopping in what could definitely be considered a tie. 

“Okay, So Viktor is an olympian and just hasn’t told us,” Ekko told you and Vi.

“Yeah, Viktor won by, like, alot,” Cait agreed, then turned to Vi, “Sorry, babe.”

“Also, I didn’t win, but I did beat you ,”  Ekko said, jabbing a finger at Vi who looked incredibly unamused.

You dragged yourself up out of the ocean, water pouring from your hair as you sat next to Viktor. You bumped him with your shoulder, eyebrow raised as you asked him, “Aren’t you from a landlocked country? Where did that come from?”

“I was on the, uh, adaptive, I think you’d call it here,” The words were unfamiliar in english, “Yes, I was on the adaptive swim team in my town. Made it to nationals most years.”

“That’s impressive,” You nodded, your tone light when you said, “Didn’t know I was racing against a professional. Almost unfair isn’t it?”

“Eh, you also lost to Ekko and Vi, who are not professionals,” He pointed out, raising an eyebrow at you, “I believe you would have lost regardless of my skill.”

You gasped in mock offence, slapping him lightly with the back of your hand, “Rude!”

“What, you want me to lie to you?” He laughed, the others were out of the water now.

“How does it feel to be wrong, Vi?” Ekko asked, puffing out his chest with his hands on his hips proudly. Vi punched him in the stomach, not hard enough to actually hurt him, but enough to make him huff and bend over.

“Gonna make you eat those words Little Man,” Vi told him, “Next year I’ll whoop your ass.”

“Can’t wait to beat you again,” Ekko said, still hunched over as he flipped her off. 

Viktor turned his attention to you as Vi and Ekko began to rough house trying to push each other back into the water.

“What happened with you, huh?” He asked, tilting his head, “I thought the ocean was your thing?”

“It is!” You defended, shrugging, “I’m a strong swimmer, not a fast swimmer. I’ve never been in a rush when I’m in the water, ya know.”

Viktor hummed, pursing his lips as he thought about your words. 

“But, I know for a fact that I can swim deeper than anyone here,” You told him, then poked him in the chest, “ Including you.”

“Hm, you are right,” He agreed, thinking for a moment and then opening his mouth to ask something else.

Before he could, Jinx shouted your name from the other side of the rock formation, cutting him off.

“What?” You called back, leaning onto your palms behind you as you waited for a reply.

“Come approve of this jumping height!” She shouted back, “Jayce won’t do it until you say it’s safe, Captain .”

“Stop calling me that!” You groaned, standing up. Viktor looked up at you, your body blocking the sun as you stood over him. You huffed, “I’ll be right back, let me go make sure our friends don’t fucking kill themselves.”
“Best of luck,” He called after you, laying back against the warm rock and watching as you walked away.

Hours later, Viktor was floating on his back, the water cradling his body in a way that made all the pain ebb away. He watched the birds overhead, count at least three different species based on size and wing shape. He wondered what it would be like to be so free that not even the ground could hold you in place. Where he was right now was probably the closest he’d come to knowing.

“Viktor!” You called, swimming up  to him.

“Hm?” He asked, moving so he was treading water.

“Do you want to see something cool?” You asked, chin just above the water, a glint in your eyes.

“Sure…” He said, hesitant at what you were proposing.

“Good, come with me.” He followed as you swam away, off towards one of the rock pillars.

You stopped next to it, bracing a hand against the slick surface to keep the waves from pushing you into it. Viktor did the same.

“What are we doing?” He asked, looking up at the rock. He hoped you weren’t going to ask him to climb the side like Jayce did. He’d hate to disappoint you.

“Are you claustrophobic?” You asked, “Or afraid of the dark?”

“No and no,” He told you, then said your name with concern before asking again, “What are we doing?”

“Give me your hand,” You grabbed the back of his hand, guiding it down the rock under the surface of the water, “Do you feel that?”

Sure enough he could feel the edge of the rocks give way to a tunnel, he nodded.

“Good, I’ll go first,” You didn’t let his hand go, “It’ll only take a few seconds to get through, but it’ll feel like longer,” You squeezed his hand, “Just keep a hand on the wall, and don’t panic.”

He nodded, trying to even his breathing and push out the anxiety. You let go, took a deep breath and disappeared under the water. He watched as the flash of red fabric you were wearing disappeared into the rocks. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs as much as he could. Blindy he followed, doing as you told him and keeping a hand on the rocks as he pulled himself through the opening. He counted slowly in his head, reminding himself it really was only a few seconds of being blind with no oxygen. 

He gasped when he came out on the other side, wiping the water off his face. He realized he could stand here, soft sand underneath him. You steadied your hands on his biceps as he stood and looked around. You had brought him to a cave inside the center of the rock. A narrow hole extending all the way up to the surface allowing a beam of light into the small space. It reflected off the water, casting rays of light against the walls and your face as you smiled at him. The water was only up to his hips, it was enough to keep him stable, though. 

“What do you think?” Your voice echoed as you watched him observe the space.

“This is…how is this even here?” He asked, moving to look directly up the chimney. 

“I don’t know exactly, something about how the rocks formed, probably trapped air or ice or something from forever ago,” You shrugged, plucking a snail off the wall and examining it.

Every sound was loud in the space, echoing against the walls along with the sound of dripping water and gentle waves lapping against your bodies. 

“This is amazing,” He touched the wall, entranced and wanting to know more, “How did you find this place? Do all the rocks have caves in them?”

“They might, not any that I’ve been able to get into, though,” You explained, placing the snail back onto the rocky wall, “I found it when I was a kid.”

“Hm, have you shown the others this?” He turned to you, watching you from across the space. You were turned away from him, pressing on an anemone hanging limply from the wall.

“Lest knows about it, but she doesn’t like small spaces,” You shrugged, glancing over your shoulder, “Otherwise no.”

“Why’d you show me?”

“Thought you’d find it interesting,” You told him, turning around, “You like it, right?”

“Of course,” He nodded, looking around.

“I remember when I found this place, the tide was so low there was barely any water,” You barked a laugh, the sound echoing off the walls, “I stayed in so long my dad thought I drowned. It was the only time he ever yelled at me.”

“I imagine that was scary for him,” Viktor scolded jokingly.

“Ha, yeah, he told me not to come in here again, but it’s just so…” You gestured around, “Other wordly.”

“That’s a good word for it,” Everything about the space was certainly alien; the green blue light, oversaturated sound, even the slight movement of snails and tiny crabs and unsupported anemones on the walls felt like creatures from another planet.

“I used to come in here and pretend it was actually a different place,” You laughed, nostalgia in your voice, “Like everything out there was separate. Sometimes I hoped that when I left I’d be in an alternate universe.”

“Did you want things to be different,” He asked, smoothing a hand across the surface of the water. 

“Eh, at the time.” You shrugged, “In retrospect, things weren't that bad. But everything feels like the end of the world when you're eleven, right?”

“Yes, I suppose it did,” He agreed.

“Still, even now that I actually like my life…it’s nice to be a different person inside here sometimes.” You chewed on the inside of your cheek. There was something he was missing. Something about the way you were looking at him, like you were begging him to connect dots. 

He tilted his head to the side, racking his brain for wherever hint you were trying to give him. Worried that maybe there wasn’t a hint at all and he was reading into subtext that wasn’t actually there.

“So, in here we are different people?” Asking aloud made it click, “...oh, like, in here, I am not your classmate?”

“Hm, I guess not.” You shrugged innocently, meeting his eye. There it was. That’s what you wanted.

And that was all he needed. He took one quick step through the water, easily closing the distance in the cramped space, and practically fell into you. Your teeth clicked together as his lips crashed against yours. His hands held your face to his, he could taste lime as your mouth moved against him just as desperately. He pulled you away for a moment, forehead leaning against yours as he panted.

“Why can’t girls just say what they want,” He complained, unseriously, placing a light kiss against the side of your mouth.

“Where’s the fun in that,” You teased, hands squeezing his waist playfully. He pulled you to him again, hands still on your jaw and nape of your neck, you pushed him away gently, bringing your hand into the space between your bodies, “We only have half an hour before the tide rises,” you set a time on your watch.

“And you didn’t just ask me to kiss you immediately,” He whined, moving his hands down to the small of your back, “What is wrong with you.”

“Hey, I had stuff to say,” You laughed, looping your arms over his shoulders, “Besides, I can’t let myself seem desperate.”

“Yeah and touching my face earlier in front of everybody, in front of Sky , definitely wasn’t desperate at all,” He teased, lips close enough to brush against yours when he spoke.

“Hey,” You grabbed his hair pulling him away an inch. He couldn’t help the way his breath hitched in his throat and his eyes fell halfway closed, “I was helping .”

Viktor didn’t respond, he just pulled against your hand to kiss you again, slow and controlled. Your lips were parted for him already and he took the invitation, tongue sweeping across your teeth. Your tongue was burning hot in comparison to how cold your lips were. The taste made him weak. He grabbed your wet hair, pulling your head back with gentle force.

You whined at the loss of contact, panting and looking down your nose at him.

“Vik, please ,” You begged, nails digging into his shoulders. He shuddered, eyes falling closed as he tried to breath, the feeling of your hands on him and half his name in your mouth almost too much to handle, “Fuck, please kiss me.”

He pressed his lips to the column of your neck briefly. Then the taste of sunscreen and saltwater filled his mouth as he licked from your collar bone to your jaw to the spot behind your ear. He wasn’t necessarily a prideful person, but he sure as hell felt like the biggest man alive at the shuddering moan you let out just from him tasting your skin. He bit at your jaw, breathing you in.

“Don’t leave marks,” You gasped, hands tangling into his wet hair.

“God I want to,” Viktor groaned, palms moving down the curve of your ass and pressing you to him, “I want you so bad.”

“We don’t have time,” You told him, pulling his face up to meet yours, desperate when you told him, “Just take what I can give you for right now.”

“Gladly,” He scoffed, dipping back down to your mouth. 

He kissed you like he’d die if he stopped. His tongue found every surface in your mouth, licking into you like food. You accepted it all enthusiastically, biting his lips and sucking gently on his tongue when ceded control for a moment. He could feel the water rising above his waist already. He took advantage of this, bending down slightly and grabbing the back of your legs. You gasped as he picked you up and held you against him, the water making it an easy task. 

“Vik,” You warned, clearly uncertain about this. You smoothed a hand over his cheek, he leaned into it heavily, eyes fluttering shut as he took a deep breath.

“It’s fine,” He assured, eyes hooded, “I’m fine, I’ve got you.”

He pressed a kiss to your sternum, loving the weight of you against him. Savoring the feeling of something he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to do again. You relaxed. Wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders as you kissed him again, letting yourself be held. He kept one hand on the underside of your thigh, just under the curve of your ass, fingers kneading into the soft flesh there. His other moved to your hip, brushing under the tight line of your swimsuit to feel your skin under his fingers. Your motion was fluid as you kissed, a push and pull that felt perfected like this wasn’t only the second time you had done it.

“I think about you all the time,” Viktor panted as you pulled away slightly to breathe, “all the fucking time.”

“Don’t tell me that,” You said sadly, “This can’t leave here. Out there this doesn’t exist.”

“Why? You want me. I want you,” He held you closer, pressing as much of his body against yours as he could, “What the fuck are we doing?”

“I’m sorry,” You muttered, hands shaking at the feeling of him against you, “I can’t. You know I can’t. Please, just take what I’m giving you. Let this be enough for now.”

Your words from earlier were sadder now. Clearly hard enough for you to stick to without him begging. He pulled back, your hand back on his face as he watched you. The desperation in your eyes was begging him to just enjoy this moment. He pressed his forehead to yours, nodding with his eyes closed. He could feel your eyelashes against his skin. 

“Just kiss me, please,” Your voice was soft, but loud in the cramped space.

He did as you asked. He wanted more time. He wanted to kiss you slow and deep. He wanted to make you feel good, he wanted to lie with you forever. He didn’t have that time, so he let himself rush. Trying to squeeze in a month's worth of kisses into whatever time he had left. You reciprocated, licking into his mouth, breathing him in. Your hands wandered over his shoulders, feeling the muscles move under his skin, the way goosebumps were left in the wake of your fingertips. You pulled away enough to kiss him on the side of the mouth, teeth grazing across his skin as he tilted his head back for you. The light from above shined into his eyes, warming his face as your tongue warmed his neck. He wanted you to leave marks on him again. The one you had left last time was faded and gone. No longer there for him to press into with his fingers to remind him. He knew you wouldn’t.

The water was almost up to your shoulders now. Raising higher, threatening to take you away from him. He held you tighter, hands moving over you. He couldn’t guarantee you’d ever let him touch you again, he needed this. He wanted the feeling of you burned into his palms. He wanted scorch marks in the shape of your lips on his neck. He didn’t want to feel anything else ever again. 

Your watch let out a string of shrill beeps. You groaned, pulling your mouth away from his skin, “We have to go,” you told him, eyes closed and nose pressed to the spot just under his ear.

“No.” He said, pulling you back to his lips. His tongue slipped back into your mouth, lips sealed to yours.

You hummed, pulling away from him slightly, lips still on his as you spoke, “Vik, we’ll drown.”

“I’m fine with that,” He was. He’d gladly die kissing you if that was an option. 

“I’m not,” You laughed against his mouth, “You can’t ask me out at the end of the semester if we’re dead.”

“An unfortunate truth,” He punctuated his words with kisses.

“Sorry we can’t have everything we want,” You told him, unwillingly unhooking your legs from his hips, and standing on your own. Viktor groaned in frustration, head in your shoulder. He didn’t want to let himself be bitter, but it was hard knowing there was nothing real, nothing tangible, keeping you away from him, “Let’s go.”

You stepped away, moving through the water to where the entrance of the cave was, “There will be resistance on the way out, just use the rocks to help move out and don’t panic.”

He watched you take a deep breath, then reached out for you, “Wait.”

He pulled you against him one last time, kissing you with as much want and purpose as he could gather in his body. Grateful when you kissed him back letting him envelope you. He pecked your lips until you giggled when he pulled away, letting himself smile against your mouth.

Without saying anything else you took a deep breath and disappeared below the water, swimming out with Viktor on your heels. You gasped as you resurfaced on the other side, squinting into the bright sun. You held on to the rocks and to him as you both got your bearings and let your eyes adjust. 

You snorted a laugh, “Do I also look like I’ve just been kissing someone for the past half hour?” 

He admired you for a moment. Yes you definitely did, lips swollen and cheeks flushed a soft red, “You look gorgeous.”

“Shut up, Viktor,” You scoffed, splashing water at him gently before swimming away.

He swam over to you, breaking the rules just for a moment as he pulled you against his chest, one arm wrapped around your waist while the both of you treaded water, “Vik.”

“What?” You raised an eyebrow, swallowing hard and glancing warily down at his lips. He wasn’t going to kiss you, you had made it clear that wasn’t allowed.

“I like when you call me Vik,” He admitted.

“Hm, I thought nicknames weren’t allowed,” You tilted your head, smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.

“Yes, from everyone but you,” He told you, leaning forward and rubbing his face against your cheek, the sun warming his back already, “You can call me whatever you want to, but I like when you call me Vik.”

You gave a content hum and returned the gesture, pressing your cheek against his, “Hm, good to know, Vik.”

“Is this breaking the rules?” He asked, pressing his nose to the spot just under your ear, breath warm against your wet skin. 

“Most definitely,” You tried to laugh to hide the shudder that ran across your body. 

With that he let you go, reluctantly watching as you swam away towards the others. He wished he could sink to the ocean floor or maybe spend his life in the air, just somewhere where he would stop wanting you.

As the sun sank closer and closer to the grassy horizon, Viktor did his best to soak in as much of the feeling as he could. He laid himself out on one of the flat west facing rocks, hands under the back of his head and eyes closed. This was one of the few days in what felt like months that he wasn’t thinking about class or research or future internships. 

“Channeling Rio?” He recognized your voice behind his closed eyes.

“Indeed,” He hummed a laugh, “Snakes have the right idea with this whole war rocks thing, it’s very pleasant.”

You laughed softly at him. He could see your face in his mind perfectly.

“We have to leave in like an hour or so,” You told him, “Just letting you know,”

“Hm, thank you,” He cracked an eye open. You were sitting on your knees, a few feet away from him, and holding an odd rock in your hands. You hadn’t noticed that he was looking at you yet and he watched as your eyes traveled up the line of his body. An almost imperceptible blush painting your cheeks when you met his eyes.

“You’re gonna have weird tan lines from the tape,” You told him, glancing back down to his knee, “Does it really help as much as your brace?”

“Eh, I wouldn’t say as much ,” He said, moving to where he was leaning back on his elbows. He lifted his knee, examining the new color that developed around the tape. It certainly couldn’t be called a tan, but it was a slightly different shade than when he had woken up this morning, “In the water I need the brace less, and today is what I’d consider a good day in terms of the pain.”

You nodded, looking back up at his face. He always found himself grateful for your reactions to him when he spoke about the physicalness of his body. You neve flinched away. You never looked at him with pity. The questions you asked never made him feel like he was being examined. You never made assumptions about how he was feeling or what he needed. You didn’t point out when something changed, didn’t make a big deal on days he wore a more intense brace or had a crutch instead of a cane. It also never felt like it was because you simply didn’t care. He felt seen by you in a way that was unfamiliar to him. The closest anyone has ever gotten aside from his mother was Jayce, and even he had his overwhelming flurries of concern occasionally. 

“What’s that?” Viktor asked you, breaking the eye contact he wasn’t sure how long he had been holding and nodding down to what you were holding.

“Oh!” You glanced down, looking at it like you had forgotten it was there, “Oh, yeah, wait.”

You scooted closer to him in your knees, holding whatever it was gingerly in your palm. You were close enough for him to see what it was now. An oyster shell. No, not the shell. A live oyster, a thick rock was jammed in between the two shells, holding it open. You dipped a finger into the flesh between the shells, then another as you dug for something in the muscles. Your tongue was caught between your teeth, eyes focused as you worked. Viktor wasn’t quite sure what you were doing, but he could tell you were doing your best to not harm the mollusk inside. Fingers moving, slow and gentle. He blinked away a cloud of dirty thoughts. Deeming this not the time.

“Ah, got it!” You gasped, then pulled your fingers out of the shell, clutching something in your palm, “One sec.”

You pried the rock out of the oyster, the immobile creature clattering to the rock when it snapped shut. You picked it up, leaned over to the edge of the water and dropped it back into the ocean, swishing whatever was in your other hand around in the salt. Then you turned back to Viktor, moving even closer to him, your bent knees almost touching his thigh.

You beamed and held your palm out to him. In the center of your hand was a small asymmetrical pearl, “For you!”

Viktor stared at the pretty offering in your hand for a moment, unable to form a coherent thought. You shoved your hand a little closer, urging him to take it with an eager expression on your face. Slowly he reached forward, picking up the pearl and looking at it closer. The sheen was a soft pink color, layers of gray mixed in. It was shaped oddly, almost circular but the layers of minerals still held the shape of whatever they had formed around. 

“Pro mě?” His voice came out softer than he expected it to, not thinking when he spoke in his native language.

“Mhm,” You moved closer to him, a palm placed on his thigh, “Do you like it?”

“It’s gorgeous… how,” Viktor scoffed, realizing he would never be able to predict whatever odd move you were planning next.

“The oysters around these rocks produce a lot of pearls,” You shrugged, “I don’t know why, it honestly doesn't make much sense. I’ve wanted to do research on it, but I also don’t want people to know that they’re here.”

“You didn’t kill it?” He asked, rolling the pearl in his fingers, “Others would have, right?”

“Eh, probably,” You scoffed, nodding, “It’s hard to catch them open enough, but I’ve gotten better at it.”

“What an interesting skill to have.” He mused.

“I’m glad you think so,” You fidgeted for a moment, then leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to his cheek. Instantly he leaned into the pressure of your lips on his skin, sucking in a sharp breath and missing the contact the instant you pulled away, “Don’t tell anyone where you got it, if people know about the pearls, they’ll ruin this place.”

He nodded at you, closing his fist tightly around the pearl as you slipped away from him. Back into the ocean and swimming towards the others before your skin had even dried off.

Chapter Text

October officially ushered out the last days of summer. Replacing the sunny days with falling leaves and the excitement of a fresh semester with mid-term blues. Unlike all the past semesters, you were fairly unbothered this term. Of your courses, only Hiemerdinger’s class had an official midterm exam. The rest didn’t bother and instead continued assignments as normal. It was clear you were one of the few to be spared the anxieties. 

Viktor had gotten to class before you. You found him glaring down at the textbook in front of him and tugging his normally neat hair into a mess of cowlicks, his leg jumping like it was trying to run away from his body. As you got closer to him, you could tell that he wasn’t exactly looking at anything in particular. Just staring at the table, the muscles around his eyes twitching almost imperceptibly and the soft skin darker than you had ever seen it.

“Morning,” You said, sliding into your seat next to him, waiting for a response that didn’t come. You tilted your head at him, lips pursed, “Viktor?”

Nothing. You felt bad thinking about how pretty he looked when he was upset. The already strong lines of his face were that much more prominent, his eyes were darker, his whole demeanor more intense. He let out a shaky breath through his nose, still seemingly unaware of your presence.

“Viktor?” You asked again, then reached out and placed a firm hand on his knee, stopping the motion, “Vik?”

He sucked in a harsh breath, turning to you with wide eyes. He blinked a few times, registering where he was.

“Sorry,” He shook his head lightly, heaving a sigh before saying your name, “Goodmorning.”

“Are you okay?” You squeezed his knee, still shaking slightly, “Did you get any sleep last night?”

“Uh, yeah,” He straightened up, placing his palm over the back of your hand, “Yeah, no I didn’t, I guess, sorry.”

“You’re starting to sound like me,” You joked, laughing softly, “ Sorry, sorry. What’s up? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this anxious?”

“Your American habits are rubbing off on me,” He pulled his hand away and ran it through his hair, he leaned into the back of his chair.

“Really, what’s got you all worked up?” You tried to think if he had mentioned anything coming up that would cause this reaction, “You only have the one midterm test, right? Please tell me you aren’t worried about Heimerdinger's test.”

He hesitated for a moment, picking at the edge of the table and not looking up at you, “And if I said I was?”

“Then I’d tell you that’s dumb and you are the last person that should be worried about this test,” You told him, leaning forward to try to catch his gaze. He met your eyes, seemingly unconvinced. You leaned farther into his space, hoping he believed you when you urged, “Seriously, I mean it.”

He rolled his eyes in response, but fought back a smile as he gently pushed you away, a laugh slipping past his lips, “Okay, whatever you say.”

“If you want help studying, I’m always around,” You teased, “Not like you need it, but still.”

“Well, if I need someone to tell me the wrong pages to study, I’ll keep you in mind,” He teased, smirking over at you.

“Hey, that was one time,” You pouted, face going red thinking about when you had given him the completely wrong chapter to complete homework on.

Before Viktor could reply, Jinx and Ekko arrived at the table holding two more coffees than usual.

“Good morning my lovely lab partners,” Jinx said, extra bubbly as she set the two extra cups down in front of you and Viktor, “My birthday gifts for you.”

“Happy birthday, Jinx,” You smiled up at her as you took the drink, “Thank you.”

“Happy birthday,” Viktor repeated, picking up the cup curiously, “Why do you bring us gifts?”

“Family tradition,” Jinx shrugged as she took her seat, “Spiced anise latte for you, and a cherry mocha for you.”

“Yeah, Vi will do it too, when it’s her birthday,” You told him

“Hm, that’s very sweet. Thank you, Jinx,” He lifted his own cup to his lips. 

“Of course, my gift to everyone else is going to be the best concert and after party this town has ever seen,” Dramatic as ever, “You’re coming to our show, right Vicky?”

“I’m only letting you call me that because it’s your birthday,” Viktor scolded, “Yes, I should be able to come.”

“Should?” You scoffed, hitting him lightly on the leg, “Don’t be lame, you have to come. What else would you be doing?”

He shrugged, “Studying? Working on research?”

“No way,” Ekko said, shaking his head seriously, “You have to come, you’d actually be the worst lab partner in the world if you didn’t show up.”

“Yeah, literally the worst,” Jinx nodded, equally as serious, “We might have to drop you from the group.”

“Yeah, sure.” He rolled his eyes, looking to you for backup.

“Hey, It’s my show, too,” You pointed out, poking him in the chest as you fought back a smile,  “I agree, you don’t come and you're out.”

“Fine, I’ll make sure to be there.” He laughed, waving you away from him.

“Early? And front and center?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Yes ma’am.” He nodded firmly, “It seems my grade depends on it.”

“Sure does,” You told him, glad he seemed to be relieved of his undue test worries. 

The rest of class was fairly calm. Jinx made sure to tell as many people as she could about the show, and the ones she liked about the party afterwards. Friday classes were lecture only and Heimerdinger reached the end of his presentation before even that allotted time was up. Everyone was grateful to be released early. As soon as he dismissed the class Jnx was up, practically dragging Ekko behind her on the way to whatever else she had going on today.

“You have plans before the show tonight?” You asked, bumping your shoulder into Viktor’s lightly as everyone filed out of the classroom.

“Other than reading the textbook front to back?” Viktor scoffed, “No.”

“Good, instead of stressing yourself out so much that you take years off your life,” You joked, “Come run some errands with me? I’m picking up a looper from someone on craigslist, and if you're with me the chances that I get human trafficked go down significantly.”

You followed him into the elevator, “Unfortunately, I do not believe I could actually protect you.”

You leaned against the wall as he hit the button for the first floor, you shrugged, “Eh, it’s more about having a witness than actually getting in a fight.” When the doors slid shut without anyone else inside, you moved closer to him. 

“Besides,” You hooked a finger into the belt loop on the back of his jeans, and pulled him flush against you. He gasped softly, looking over his shoulder as you pushed yourself into your toes and rested your chin against his shoulder. One hand was holding the back of his jeans, the other on his waist, “I’m strong enough to take care of myself.”

The curve of his throat jumped as he swallowed hard. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. You watched his face redden in real time, the tips of his ears the darkest. 

“Uh, s-so,” He tried, voice catching before he cleared his throat, “your car or mine?”

You laughed and gave him some space. By the time you reached the ground floor, you were acting innocent as ever and he looked like he had just strolled through the Red District. 

“I’ll drive,” You told him, “I’ve gotta pick up Ekko’s drums anyways, I’ll get you from your place in like thirty?”

“That is good,” He nodded, then he furrowed his eyebrows, glancing down at the ground and back at you, “Why…why did you do that?”

“Got you to stop thinking about the midterm, didn’t it?” You said innocently as you backed away from him towards the side door of the building, “Go home, I’ll see you in a minute.”

You were the most grateful for Viktor coming along when you realized that your only way to reach the apartment building without having to walk a mile was to parallel park. You knew your truck front and back. You have driven practically every day since you earned your license, put thousands of miles on it. Despite this, parallel parking was not a skill in your repertoire. 

“I’m gonna be real honest with you,” You said, truck angled awkwardly half into the spot, “I don’t know how to parallel park.”

“Eh, yes, I have gathered that,” He looked nervously over his shoulder at the traffic slowing and pulling around the front of the truck.

“I’ll just, uh, yeah I’ll just find somewhere else to park,” You laughed nervously, avoiding eye contact with other drivers.

“Wait, here, just calm down,” Viktor undid his seat belt and slid across the bench seat to be next to you, “You can do this, It’s not that hard.”

“Easy for you to say,” You mutter, now overly aware how close he was.

“Hush,” He scolded, and then, “Pull out of the spot, line up with the car in front of us.”

“But I’m already half-way in?” You challenged, hands tight on the steering wheel.

“God above! Will you just do what I tell you for two seconds?” He dragged a hand down his face, voice low. Before you could answer, he grabbed the gearshift and put the car into drive, “Pull. Forward.”

You did as he asked, hoping he contributed the blush creeping up your neck to anxiety. Once you were lined up with the car in front, he let out a sigh, apparently relieved you decided to cooperate.

“Okay, good,” He reached up and put the truck into reverse, “Now back up and pull the wheel right.” You nodded, following his instructions.

“Slowly,” He told you, leaning over to look out the window, muttering half to you half to himself, “There you go, just like that.”

The tone of his voice made you bite down on your lip, grateful he wasn’t looking at you in this moment, “Is that good?”

“Almost,” He said, voice softer as he focused, “Almost there, just a little more right…good now straighten out and pull forward a little bit.”

You did and then hesitated, unsure if you were actually in the spot. He reached over and put the truck into park. 

“There, you did it,” He said leaning closer to the side of your face and huffing out a laugh, voice teasing “I thought you were an independent girl, huh?”

“Excuse you,” You scoffed at him, “I am ! I just haven't gained the skill of parallel parking yet.”

  He laughed at the shrug you gave him, “Okay, well, I hope you were paying attention, because next time I’m making you do it on your own.”

You rolled your eyes at him, pulling the keys from the ignition, “Yeah, no I’ve definitely got it down now.”

That was a lie. 

You grabbed your bag and gestured for him to slide out of the truck, following him out the passenger side. The sidewalk was fairly busy, the mid-Friday crowd bustling from downtown shops to restaurants. You stuck close to Viktor, squinting around as you tried to find the right building.

“This guy was supposed to meet me down here,” You huffed, rolling your eyes, “But now apparently he’s too busy to walk down to meet us.”

“What’s the address?” He asked, looking over your shoulder as you pulled up the texts on your phone.

“890 Piltover Main, Unit Seven.” You read from the text, “We’re on the right road and I think it’s on this side.”

Viktor began walking looking at the building numbers, “890, right? This should be it.”

You followed him into an entry alcove, the address number almost completely hidden by ivy growing on the wall. You buzzed apartment seven on the intercom. It only took a moment before the door unlocked with a thunk.  

“Trusting guy,” Viktor mused, pushing open the door for you.

You shrugged, leading the way to the elevator. It was small and creaked when you both stepped inside. You exchanged a worried glance with Viktor. Any other time you would take the stairs, but you weren’t going to leave him to die in the scary elevator alone. You didn’t linger inside when the door squeaked open on the second floor. 

It wasn’t until you knocked on the door that you realized you had lost Viktor. You looked back down the hall to see him stopped in front of a frame on the wall, examining it closely. Before you could ask what he was doing the door swung open. A mid-thirties man stood in the doorway, unfortunately shirtless, an array of poorly done tattoos on display. He leaned on the doorway, cheap cologne making your eyes burn.

“Hey, uh, I’m here for the looper,” You told him, resisting the urge to scrunch your nose at the smell and ignoring the way his eyes scanned over you.

“Oh yeah, I’ve been expecting you,” He said, crossing his arms and adjusting the way he was leaning, an attempt to look more casual, “You’re late.”

“Yeah, sorry, parking was a bitch.” You said, pulling cash out of your pocket, “Twenty, right?”

“Yep,” He swiped his tongue over his bottom lip, his eyes decidedly not on your face, “You want to come in and test it?” 

“No, that’s okay.” You shook your head, glancing over to where Viktor was very unhelpfully down the hall, face close to the glass as he focused.

“Are you sure?” He asked, turning around and leaving the door open, an invitation you weren't taking.

“ Vik ,” You hissed when the guy was out of earshot. Viktor’s head snapped up, realizing you had gone ahead without him, you waved him over. Quickly he made his way down the hall toward you, his cane echoing each footstep on the warped wood flooring.

“Sorry,” He said, sheepishly ducking his head.

“It’s fine,” You whispered, slipping your hand into his, “but, I did bring you with me for a reason.”

You waited a moment for the man to return. He faltered when he found you still in the doorway with Viktor next to you, his eyes bouncing down to your hand in his. 

“Sorry, I thought you were behind me.” He said, eyeing Viktor like a threat. The looper in his hand.

“No worries,” You held the cash out to him casually, “Here ya go.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to come in and test it?” He asked, staring at your face, “Make sure it works right?”

“You wouldn’t offer her to test it, ” Viktor interjected, voice low as he raised an eyebrow at the man, “if you knew it didn’t work.”

“Hm, well, I could teach her how to use it.” He said, pointedly.

“I know how to use it,” You assured him, holding your hand out for the equipment, “Thanks anyways.”

When he didn’t hand it over, Viktor took the twenty out of your hand, reaching over and placing the cash in the man's free hand and firmly taking the looper out of the other.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” He said tightly, eyes narrow.

Neither of you waited for a response before turning to leave. You took the looper from him, holding it in one hand and looping your arm through his. Letting him lead you down the hall.

“I agree with Jayce,” He leaned over and whispered, “Don’t ever do this alone, please.”

“Don’t let me do it alone, then,” You told him with a shrug, “Why’d you stop anyways?”

“Blue prints,” He nodded, slowing to a stop in front of the fame he had been looking at earlier, “Old, I’m surprised it’s not kept somewhere safer.”

The blueprints were of the building you were in and the two on either side. They were indeed very old, probably original ones from when the area was first built.

“Hm, cool,” You mused, then teased him, “I’m glad you stopped to look at these instead of keeping me from being murdered.”

“I’m sorry ,” He whined, following you as you hit the elevator button, “I forgot that I was to be your guard dog today.”

“If you want to be my guard dog every day,” You teased, squeezing his bicep where your hand still rested, “You won’t forget next time.”

The next stop was a music store. Ekko generally managed to break at least one stick during rehearsals, you predicted he’d break a couple more in the heat of the show tonight, and you had been meaning to restring your guitar for a couple weeks now. Better late than never. The store was only a few blocks from where you picked up the looper. You had offered to drive, but Viktor insisted that walking was less painful than watching you attempt to parallel park for a second time that day. Despite the dig, the short walk with Viktor was pleasant. You had reluctantly dropped your hands from his arm, but stuck close to him while you walked. Comfortably talking about nothing important. 

Inside the music store you wandered through the aisles, Viktor trailing you as you searched for the few things you had come in for. Finding the drumsticks wasn’t hard, but you quickly realized you should have asked for more specifics from Ekko on which ones to pick up for him. He had mentioned the brand, but nothing about what size or wood type to get. Even within the brand he wanted, you were left with dozens of options. You sent him a text and began reading the packaging of the sticks, hoping that would give you some idea of what to look for. 

“They’re just sticks, ” You exasperated, squinting at the packaging in your hand, “This should not be so complicated.”

You set them down, deciding that you’d find the strings you needed while waiting for Ekko to text you back. When you turned, you were surprised to find that Viktor had strayed away. He was standing in front of one of the test keyboards, cane tucked under his arm and head bent as he played. You hadn’t even registered the sound until you saw him. You watched him for a moment. His hands moved with a practiced skill. Tufts of chestnut hair fell over his forehead, almost covering his eyes as he played. Every couple of measures he would close his eyes, eyebrows furrowed for a moment as he tilted his head to the side and thought about the chords as he played them, lips parted gently. You took a photo before he could notice, making a mental note to save it into the folder overflowing with candids of your friends. 

He had pushed the sleeves of his sweater up to his elbows. You moved closer, watching the muscles of his forearms flex and move as his fingers pressed against the keys. 

“I didn’t know you played,” You said as his hands came to a slow stop.

“Eh, I used to,” His shoulder lifted in a small shrug, “I don’t really anymore.”

“You’re very good,” You took another step closer, looking up at his face that was still cast down at the keys. There was the faintest line between his eyebrows, a tightness behind his eyes, “Why don’t you play anymore?”

“Have I ever mentioned I grew up Catholic?” He asked, placing his cane back against the ground and straightening up. He adjusted his weight, nudging slightly closer to you. Close enough that you had to tip your head back slightly to keep eye contact. 

“No,” You shook your head, a little surprised at the sudden information, “I didn’t know that.”

“Yep, full-blooded Roman Catholic,” He clicked his tongue against his teeth and pulled in slow breath, “Are you religious? Do you know about Catholicism?”

“No,” You shook your head, you could count the times you remember going to church on one hand, “Not really. I mean, Joan of Arc was a saint, right? That’s probably all I know.”

“Yes, Joan of Arc was indeed a saint,” He laughed softly, “The cut and dry of it is that humans are inherently sinful by nature. It’s the way we are created and we must spend every moment of our lives atoning for that.”

He scoffed, shaking his head at the ground, “We are told that we deserve the bad that happens to us. That it is our fault…and when you are nine and different , that concept is a particularly deep cut.”

His hand tightened around the handle of his cane, the smooth wood creaking slightly. You reached out without thinking, fingers circling around his wrist. You held him gently, thumb smoothing over the pulse on the inside of his wrist, urging him to relax. 

“So, instead of helplessly sitting through mass every week, I learned to play piano,” He shrugged like it was obvious, “My mother was thrilled that I was involving myself in the church , and by the time I was eleven I managed to sit at the piano every service and just…tune out. I pretended to listen, did what was asked, spent hours each week learning uninteresting melodies. All in an effort to escape the myriad of adults in my life telling me that if I served God, if I prayed hard enough, confessed my sins, I would be cured .”

He said the last word like a slur, corners of his mouth pulled down in a scowl, eyes distant. It made your heart sink. The image of him as a child, berated by religion. You resisted the urge to reach up and smooth the hurt on his face. You opted instead to move your hand up his arm, giving a gentle squeeze to the back of his forearm. The motion was enough to bring him back to the present. He sucked in a sharp breath, almost stepping back as he shook his head.

“I’m sorry,” A rueful laugh split past his lips, and he cleared his throat, “I’m sorry, you didn’t ask about that. Um, I learned to play when I was a kid for a purpose. I don’t need to play anymore, so I don’t. That’s it.”

“Hey, no, don’t apologize.” You held him where he was as he tried to move away, “Thank you for telling me that… I’m sure it’s not fun to talk about,” You scoffed lightly, knowing full well you avoided conversations about aspects of your childhood like the plague, “and I know it probably doesn’t help, but for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

He cast a sad look down at you. Doubtful.

“Really, listen, I know you didn’t ask my opinion,” You laughed softly, squeezing his arm again, “But I think that is incredibly fucked up, and I’m sorry you had to go through that, and I’m glad that you found something to help you through it.”

He let out a huff through his nose and was chewing on the inside of his lip, clearly nervous. You could tell that he felt exposed, let himself be vulnerable without meaning to. You stepped closer and looped an arm around his waist, turning the both of you towards the piano.

“What were you playing?” You asked, hoping to set him at ease, “It was very pretty.”

“Oh, uh, it was Leoš Janáček,” He told you, tension releasing from his shoulders as you leaned into him, “He’s one of the more well known composers of Czechia.”

He played the first few notes again, slowly, “Naše večery, it’s the first piece in a piano cycle. Written around…1900 I believe.”

“Hm, it’s beautiful,” You greeted the way he relaxed into you as he played, your hand resting gently against his waist as you watched his hands move, “Naše večery…what does that mean?”

“Our Evenings,” He told you, “It would sound better on a true piano.”

“Oh, well, be careful what you wish for,” You joked, looking up at his face with a smirk on his lips, “If you find one to play at, I’ll make you play the whole cycle.”

“You have an hour to spare, just for me?” He joked, raising an eyebrow at you under his arm.

“Always,” You rolled your eyes, laughing like it was a joke. Laughing like you wouldn’t drop everything in a heartbeat for him if he asked.

A well-timed phone call prevented you from thinking too much about that fact. You didn’t move away from him when you picked it up.

“Hey, did you get them already?” Ekko’s voice asked on the other end.

“Oh, no I was waiting for you to text,” You pulled the phone away and realized he had replied, several times, “Sorry, I got distracted. Which ones do you want?”

You tried to hide your disappointment as you pulled away from Viktor. You could hear him trailing behind you as you moved back to where the sticks were. 

You grabbed the sticks he wanted (a pack of hickory, and a pair of oak to test), the strings you needed for your guitar, and a neon pink bass strap as a gift for Jinx. All the while Viktor hovered near your side, fingers brushing against your waist or the inside of your wrist. It wasn’t clear why until you reached the counter to pay. When the teenage cashier made eye contact with your chest first, you realized why Viktor hooked his arm strongly around your waist. You watched the kid take notice of Viktor’s presence, glancing away quickly as he met Viktor’s gaze. You pretend not to notice why his head stayed down for the rest of the interaction.

“Don’t tell her I said this,” You said lowly as you walked away from the counter, still firmly in Viktor’s grasp, “but you’re certainly a better guard dog than Lest.”

He made a triumphant little noise in the back of his throat and squeezed your waist as  you walked to the truck.

The rest of the afternoon had been easy enough. Back at the house, Jayce helped you load Ekko’s drums and the rest of the equipment needed for tonight into the back of your truck. Viktor helped you double and triple check your list to guarantee nothing had been forgotten. At The Last Drop, Vander and Sevika had been kind enough to help you set up the stage, something you had allotted a couple hours to when you thought you’d be doing it yourself. You even had time to go all the way back to your dorm to shower and change properly. 

The stage was set. The party was ready for after. Jinx and Ekko were on time. Soundcheck went smoothly. The bar had filled up. The sky above the outdoor stage was clear. Everything was great . So great, in fact, that you hadn’t even the notion to be anxious. Not until right now .

You let out a nervous laugh, thrown off guard by the tears that pricked at your eyes and the ways your hands shook. You bent over, steading your hands against your thighs and trying to calm yourself down. You tried to focus on the lowkey sound of the opening duo. From the backside of the speakers, their acoustics were drowned out by the rumble of the large and still growing crowd in front of the stage. It filled your ears coupled with the rush of blood, making your head spin. You tried to think of the things your dad had taught you growing up. Grounding exercise to pull you out of a panic attack. It was too loud, though. You couldn't focus on the timing of each breath or your surroundings. Even in the open space behind the outdoor stage you felt caged in, like the sky was pressing into your back. 

You forced your eyes open. Focusing on what you could see in your direct vision. The hem of your skirt, first, the flowy fabric brushing against the bottom of your shins. Then your hightops, the black canvas well worn in and pen marks covering the dirty rubber. The laces were looped around your ankles, keeping them secured tighter than they needed to be. You shifted, feeling the gravel crunch beneath your soles. Dark rocks made to let water drain into the earth below instead of pooling. You reached down and picked a small one up just as a hand came to rest against the curve of your back.

“You doing okay?” It was Ekko, voice soft as he checked in.

“Huh? Oh, yeah I’m okay,” You straightened, hoping your voice was more convincing out loud than it was in your head. You realized there wasn’t a good reason to lie to Ekko of all people, “Sorry, just nerves, ya know.”

“Why?” He asked, hand falling to his side.

“Why what?” You tilted your head.

“Why are you nervous?” He prodded.

“I…I don’t know,” You shrugged, “Because I am.”

“That’s a horrible answer. Really, what do you have to be nervous about?” He scoffed before going into a laundry list, “You know the songs front to back, we’ve practiced everything a hundred times, sound check went fine, the crowd is full of our friends , and your hair looks great.”

He flipped a hand through your hair dramatically then placed both big hands on your shoulders.

“This is supposed to be fun.” He said seriously, then began shaking you around by the shoulders until you started laughing, he cracked a smile, “This. Will. Be. Fun.”

“Stop Ekko, stop!” You laughed, grabbing his wrists and trying to break free, “Fine, fine. I’m not nervous anymore, happy?”

“Good,” He slung an arm over your shoulder, weighing you down, “Because we’re on in like five minutes.”

“Fuck,” You gasped, looking towards the stage.

Before you could descend back into panic, Jinx was barreling towards you and Ekko. She threw her arms around both of you, shoving her head between yours and Ekko’s and hugging you tight enough to hurt. 

“I am so excited!” Jinx was practically vibrating as she pulled away, hands still on both of you, “This is going to be so fun!”

Jinx thrived on adrenaline. Her energy was overpowering. It was impossible to not let it infect you, something you were glad for. You felt the nervous energy leech from your bones. A shaky excitement taking its place. 

“You ready?” Ekko asked her, unwinding himself from your side and playing his hands on her shoulders, she nodded eagerly, “You have picks in your pocket?”

She reached into the pocket of her pants and pulled out an absurd amount of picks. You honestly wouldn’t be surprised if she managed to go through most of them during the show. Ekko nodded affirmingly then pulled her into his chest, strong arms flexing as he held her tight, speaking just to her. 

You smiled fondly at the couple and moved away to get yourself ready. Your freshly restringed guitar was waiting on the stage. You had picks in your pocket. Your water was filled. You had eaten. Your shoes were tied. You were physically as ready as you could be.

‘This will be fun,’ you told yourself. You loved playing, especially with Jinx and Ekko. Performing wasn’t necessarily your favorite thing in the world, but you had a good time during your few shows over the  summer. Your friends were right in the front. Jayce and Mel and Lest and…and Viktor. You realized that the thought of him watching you made you nervous. What a stupid feeling to have. What a childish feeling to have. Nervous about doing something in front of a boy like you were 14 or something. He had already seen you play. Multiple times, even. Him and Jayce frequently set up in the garage while you and the others rehearsed. 

Even early today he had twirled calmly on a stool in the garage, watching you intently as you tested the second hand loop pedal. He had never given you a reason to be nervous under his eyes. Still, you wondered what he would think seeing you actually on stage. Would he think you looked awkward? Uncomfortable and out of place on stage. Maybe you’d be too stiff, or too loose even. You wanted to claw your hair out. Before you could dwell on the idea any longer, Jinx grabbed you by the hand, dragging you quickly to the stage stairs.

“Ready? She asked, eyes glowing.

You took a heavy breath, twisting your sneaker into the gravel to ground yourself. You gave a nod and a smile that you hoped didn’t look forced, “As we’ll ever be.”

The opener bounced off stage, wishing Jinx a happy birthday and the rest of you good luck. Jinx went first onto stage, you and Ekko only a few steps behind her. She was on the mic in an instant. You vaguely listened to her as you set up your guitar, grateful for the moments it took to plug into the amp and test the strings. You took a few deep breaths, checking that the setlist and equipment around your feet were still secured down before glancing up. The crowd was luckily obscured past the first ten feet, the lights on you not giving you much visibility. You did catch sight of your friends, right where they said they’d be in the front row. Viktor was between Lest and Jayce, watching you. You blinked at him, giving a weak smile. He gave a strong one in return, all pretty teeth and encouragement. You were surprised how much it put you at ease. You let out a heavy breath and felt yourself relax again, in a way that you were sure would last. 

You glanced over to Jinx, tuning in as you adjusted the height of your mic. 

“Just in case you don’t know,” Jinx said to the crowd, bass held around her neck by the new strap you had bought her,  “Today is my twenty-first fucking birthday!”

The crowd cheered for her. Shouts of ‘happy birthdays’ and dramatic ‘we love yous’ thrown her way. You laughed as she basked in the attention, falsely waving them away.

“And to celebrate that!” Jinx said into the mic, then paused to lean down to one of the amps, pulling out three sealed plastic cups. She went back to the mic, “With the company of my beautiful bandmates, I’m gonna do my first shot.” Then lower away from the mic, “ legally.”

Ekko climbed down from his drum platform, letting Jinx hand him one of the premade shots before she bounded over to give you yours. It was one of those twisted shots, blue and pink liquor separated by a swirl of plastic. 

“A pornstar shot, really?” You laughed into the mic, looking over at Jinx.

“Hey! They’re pink and blue!” Jinx defended, also speaking into the mic, letting the conversation be part of the performance, “I’ve gotta stay on brand .”

You shrugged in agreement, peeling off the foil top and sniffing it experimentally. They brought back freshman year memories of dorm parties and running around campus in the dark. Jinx settled next to you, slightly in front to keep from hitting you with the neck of her bass. 

She lifted her shot, you and ekko mimicking the motion, “To a good show and an after party none of us remember,” The crowd in front of you lifted whatever drinks they had as the three of you downed the shots. The overly sweet alcohol made your nose burn. Jinx laughed, taking in the cheers as the three of you retake your proper spots on stage.

“Now let’s get this show fucking started,” Jinx plucked a few strings on her bass, testing the sound. She looked over to you and when you gave a confirming nod, she gave the same look to Ekko. He set the tempo on the drum for a few beats, counting down verbally before you and Jinx joined in. Together playing the opening to Darla by Vundabar.

Once your hands were on the strings and the chords poured from the speaker towards the crowd, any worry you had was gone. You felt light, high almost, as you played. Moving around to the beat of the song, mouthing half the lyrics to yourself as Jinx sang them.

After the first song, all three of you were in it. Any drop of uncertainty leaching out with the sweat on your skin as you played. It was easy, you floated through the setlist, hands knowing the chords and timing perfectly. You played and sang your back up vocals, taking control of a full verse here and there. It wasn’t until the middle of the set that the attention was fully on you. An almost original song. A derivative work technically, lyrics written by Ekko set to a slightly altered composition of a Dystopia song.

Jinx was in love with this one, she had coaxed her dad into letting her play with the lighting just a little bit. The light dimmed slowly as you set for the song, adjusting settings on amps and Ekko preparing extra sticks. You plucked a cigarette out of the pack in your pocket, placing it in your lips as you crouched down on the edge of the stage. Right in front of Viktor.

You didn’t say anything, just rested your guitar in your lap and let the bottom of your skirt pool against the ground around you. You didn’t need to search for eye contact, it was there in an instant. Only seconds later when he was stepping closer and holding a flame up to you. You didn’t look away from him when you took the drag and blew the smoke down to his face.

Without so much as a word you stood back to the audience as the lights reached their end, only blue spotlights on you, Jinx, and Ekko remaining. The chords rang out exactly as you had wanted them, low and haunting as Ekko shimmered the cymbals of his set. This was your favorite song to play. Your favorite to practice, to show off to people. 

It felt good to play it in front of everyone. Felt better knowing how you were playing in front of him.

That feeling carried you to the end of the show. Carried you even when Viktor politely moved to the bar at the back of the crowd to lean against a stool. He gave a reassuring wave from where he sat, knuckles pressing into his thigh. Carried you through breakdown, carried you to your truck packed with gear, carried you to the Rune Street house where the boys unloaded you truck while you changed in Cait’s room. 

Carried you until you finally stopped moving. You leaned against the kitchen sink, body heavy as you sipped at a solo cup of tap water. You took slow breaths, staring at a spot on the floor as you tried to bring yourself back up from the ground. The excited and already intoxicated people around you did nothing to help. You stayed in the twilight zone until a pale hand waved in front of your face. 

“Visiting another universe tonight?” Viktor asked as you snapped your head up to look at him.

“Sorry,” You shook your head, blinking like you had just woken from sleep, “Sorry, I just…zoned out.”

“Hm, well welcome back,” He laughed softly, moving closer to you as someone tried to squeeze around his back to get through the kitchen. He stayed close even when the person was gone, he even leaned in further. Shouting over the music,  “You did great tonight. You played incredibly.”

“Thank you, that’s very sweet,” You smiled up at him, still feeling weak.

He caught on quickly, steadying a hand on your shoulder, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” You tried to wave it off, he narrowed his eyes at you, “I’m just tired is all, kinda crashing.”

“That’s reasonable,” He frowned, then pulled away, just enough to fish a silver key from his pocket and hold it out to you, “My room is the only one that locks, you can crash in there for a bit if you’d like.”

It was a tempting offer, but you knew if you tried to sleep now you’d be out until morning, “I’m okay,” You told him, “I wanna hang, just gotta power through.”

“Well in that case,” 

He put the key back in his pocket and reached past you, grabbing a cup from the stack and setting it on the counter next to the fridge. He took your cup from your hands and dumped the water out, setting it next to his. You were finally taking him in now. Too spaced to notice his wardrobe change post-show. Jinx’s party was rave themed, the music and lights and outfits all reflecting this. 

Apparently, Viktor was not excluded. You remembered Ekko offering his close to Jayce and Viktor, his style being that of someone who actually went to raves. This was not what you had expected, though. Viktor, who only ever wore the most reserved of outfits, was in jeans that were purposefully too big, except for where they rested between his hips and waist. Cut outs in the side, just below the belt line, showed off completely the line and curve of his narrow hips. Pale skin practically glowing in the light of the fridge as Viktor opened it. It was cut in such a way that there was no chance he was wearing anything underneath the jeans. And almost more jarring was the fact that Viktor was wearing a crop top . The fairly normal t-shirt came to a harsh stop right at his navel, showing off the softest of happy trails and curve of muscle. You had seen him undressed before. You’ve seen him in less clothing than this even, at the coast. Nothing you were witnessing was new to you, but there was just something about it. About how intentional every bare inch was. 

You glanced away harshley, realizing you were very obviously staring at his body as he rummaged around in the fridge. He pulled out two narrow cans and set them on the counter. You picked one up, the cold condensation biting at your hand.

“Red Bull?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Patience,” He scolded, grabbing the can and setting it back down on the counter. 

He slid open the freezer drawer and moved things around, pulling a glass bottle out from underneath an ancient bag of frozen vegetables. He set it to the side, the clear liquor inside reflecting the lights in the room. All the labeling was in Czech. He dumped the energy drinks into the cups and then twisted the cap of the liquor with a satisfying pop .

“Don’t tell anyone I let you have this,” He told you, pouring a hearty shot into his cup, “They’ll make me share with them too.”

“Oh, so I’m special?” You joked, he gave you a look that very loudly screamed well, obviously . He paused to size you up for a moment, and came to the conclusion that half a shot would do. You scoffed, “Hey, I’m not a lightweight.”

“Eh, maybe not,” He said, “But this is not American liquor, and you are not a European woman.”

“Would you prefer I was?” You joked, rolling your eyes as he added another splash to his own drink before recorking it. 

“Of course not,” He held the cup out to you, “Na zdravi!”

You bit back a smile when you repeated the words and tapped the edge of your cup against his. He watched you hesitantly, cup hovering near his lips as he waited for you to take a sip. When you did, you were admittedly surprised at the strength of the small shot. You were even more surprised at the amount that he had poured into his own cup. 

“Christ, Vik,” You gasped, trying not to flinch at the burn, “You’re gonna go blind.”

“See, I told you” He laughed, taking a sip of his own drink with ease, “Only a small amount for the American. If it’s too much I can add more Red Bull.”

“No, it’s good,” You sipped again, taking the liquor better now that you were ready for it, “Thank you for being my bartender tonight,”

“What, no tip?” He teased, smirking down at you.

“Unfortunately, these shorts leave no space for my wallet,” You ran a hand over the side of the tight silvery shorts you had changed into. So tight you had even foregone underwear beneath them, “Next time.”

“I’m sure,” He leaned in to avoid shouting as the music and crowd became louder, he reached out and ran a finger over the waistband of the shorts, “I mean, I’m sure a few dollar bills could fit here, no?” His hand dropped lower down your side, fingertips brushing against the top of your thigh high socks, “Maybe here even?”

You slapped his hand away, “Not nice to imply I’m a stripper,” You pouted as he laughed and waved a hand in front of himself defensively.

“I kid, I swear,” He assured, “Where did you even get these clothes anyways?”

“It’s October in America, baby,” You laughed, “there's a halloween store taking up residence in every empty building in the country right now.”

“Yes, I forget about the holiday here,” He shrugged, “It’s not a large thing in Czechia.”

“Yeah, I know, Europe is lame like that,” You joked, turning your nose up.

“Is that so,” He questioned, then reached out to take your drink from you, “Then I guess you don’t like the European liquor if it’s so lame then…”

“Wait no,” You giggled, trying to reach for the cup as he held it away from you, “No I lied, I swear.”

He laughed and relinquished the cup back to you. You gratefully took another sip, holding eye contact with him to prove you liked it. 

“That’s what I thought.” He leaned back against the fridge, “Tell me if you want another,”

You nodded, then reached out and tugged the high hem of his shirt, “I like this, by the way, suits you.”

“Hm, that so?” You asked, dipping his chin to examine his own outfit, “I tried for something a little more low-key, but Jayce wasn’t having it.”

“Ah, I imagine he’s dressed even sluttier?” You barked a laugh.

“Oh of course,” Viktor nodded with wide eyes, “are you saying I’m a slut?”

“No, of course not,” You shrugged, “Just that you are dressed like a slut.”

“I don't think it’s that slutty,” He looked down at his outfit, again.

“What’s this then?” You slid a hand down his side, gripping his bare hip where t was exposed by the cutout, “This is pretty slutty, especially for a man.”

“And what’s your opinion of that?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Of what?”

“Of slutty men?” His eyes darkened, “Is that something you enjoy?”

“Who doesn’t,” You said innocently, taking another sip in hopes of hiding your blush.

“Hm, good to know,” He hummed, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. He leaned in just a touch more, mouth open to continue his sentence when Jayce was suddenly right next to you, a hand on Viktor’s shoulder.

The intrusion made you jump, nearly spilling your drink as you flinched away.

“Hey, oh sorry,” Jayce said, realizing he had barged in. He was wasted already, pretty cheeks already flushed red. He was indeed somehow dressed sluttier than Viktor. A mesh top and chaps of all things, underneath only a pair of shimmery shorts, almost as tight as yours. 

“What did I say?” Viktor laughed, looking down at you, you just widened your eyes in agreement.

“Huh?” Jayce tilted his head at the two of you.

“Nothing,” Viktor waved him off, “What’s up?”

“We need another person for beer pong,” Jayce told you both, “Are either of you down?”

You looked down at the still mostly full and very strong drink in your hand, “I’ll pass for now, maybe later if you guys play another round.”

“I’ll go,” Viktor told him with a shrug.

“Good,” Jayce clapped him on the shoulder, “You can be Sky’s partner.”

That twisted something in your chest, but you forced it away as you took another drink. Viktor just nodded and went to follow Jayce towards where the table was set up in the garage. He turned back to you when he realized you weren’t following.

“Are you not coming?” He tilted his head.

“No, it’s okay, I should probably go find Lest, actually,” You told him, trying to act casual, “You go, though, Defeat Jayce in my honor. I’ll find you later.”

“Okay,” He frowned slightly, hesitating before turning away to follow Jayce. 

You watched him walk away, doing your bets to look unbothered. Even with him out of your proximity, the heat still lingered. You shoved your hand under the ice dispenser of the fridge, catching a cube and popping it into your mouth before wandering to the living room. You wanted to dance with Lest, or grind up against a stranger, anything to get him off your mind.

Hours later, when you became bored of fending off freshman boys on the dance floor, you found yourself watching Viktor from across the room like a fucking creep. You knew you were and you couldn’t help it. He looked great. In that stupid fucking crop top and insufferable pair of borrowed jeans. He looked great and so did Sky. She looked great in the electric blue outfit you had helped her pick out. She looked great laughing and fanning her alcohol warmed cheeks. 

She looked great with her hands all over Viktor. Playing with his neat hair. Rubbing a hand over his shoulder. Leaning half way on top of him every time she laughed.

The spot on Viktor’s other side was empty. You could claim it easily. Insert yourself into their conversation or, most likely, pull his attention completely to you. You could sideline her in an instant. 

You had officially fucking lost it. You couldn’t believe you were pouting against the wall at a party. Face half hidden behind your cup, pretending to sip your sad mixture of three parts american vodka one part flat orange crush. Unrightfully angry at one of your closest friends. 

She’d be fine, though. There were plenty of men who’d jump at the chance to sweep her off her feet, take her virginity, and propose before graduation. Why did she need to be so focused on him? Was she blind? Viktor was obsessed with you and you knew it . You had tried to discourage him at first. Some point since then and now, you had succumbed to the idea that you were just waiting for eachother. Well, more of him, waiting for you, but still. You couldn't break your composure, not even for someone like him. 

Your ankles twitched, your angry body coaxing your drunk brain into a rash decision.

You couldn’t. It would be too obvious. Too fucking mean, like anything about this wasn’t already. You couldn't force it. He had to come to you. You could at least give him the option.

You brushed your fingertips against the side of your ear, ensuring that the cigarette you had tucked there earlier hadn't disappeared. You sent an innocent enough text - cig out back? - and walked out the back door before you could see him open the message. The ball was in his court now. You weren’t going to control him and he could make whatever decision he felt like. If he didn’t come, then you’d get a whole cigarette to yourself. A win-win situation, really. 

Outside the sky was still dripping. The storm that had started shortly after the party and hadn’t really let up until now. The backyard was completely barren, everyone still crowded into the house and garage to keep out of the rain. You rounded the side of the house, opting to let the cool wet air clear away the stickiness from inside. You had barely rested your back against the siding when your name was being hissed into the dark. 

“Over here,” You beckoned Viktor over to your corner of the yard.

You didn't need a whole cigarette anyways.

“Got a light?” You asked as he settled next to you, shoulder pressing to yours. 

Wordlessly he pulled one from his pocket, holding the flame out in front of you. You pressed the cigarette to your lips and lent towards him. Eyes fell shut as you pulled the flame in, smoke filling your lungs. 

“Where have you been?” You asked, smoke burning your nose as you exhaled and passed him the cigarette, “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Around,” He shrugged, taking the cigarette and bumping his shoulder against yours with a smirk,  “You have been looking for me?”

“Shut up,” You muttered, hitting the back of your hand against his bare stomach.

“Ah, milá ,” He sighed, cigarette hanging from his lip as he grabbed your arm and pulled you to stand in front of him, “Jsi legrační dívka,”

His hands came to rest on the small of your back. You leaned against him, stealing back the cigarette from his mouth and taking a drag. He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, eyes on your lips.

“Are you drunk?” You asked him, taking a quick drag and holding the cigarette between you for him to take.

“Eh, a little,” He blew smoke out of his nose. Hot. “Me and Jayce smoked earlier, but the high is fading. You?”

“Also a little,” You told him, reaching up to touch his face. You ghosted a fingertip over the mark above his lip. So pretty. So inviting. 

You were drunk…enough. It didn’t count if you were drunk.

Your hand moved to his jaw and pulled him towards you, lips brushing against his softly. Tonight he chose you over Sky. Like you knew he would. The guilt was discarded as quickly as the half smoked cigarette when he pulled you closer. He wrapped his arms around your waist, holding your flush to him as his mouth crashed against yours harder. You looped your arms over his shoulders, hands fisting into the back of his shirt as your lips parted. He didn’t waste the invitation, tongue pushing into your mouth with a gasp. He tasted like caffeine and tobacco and himself. Your head spun as he kissed you. His teeth pulled at your lower lip, eliciting a whine you hadn’t expected.

“Ah, fuck ,” He panted, breaking away to beath. His hands slid down to grab your ass, pressing you harder against him. You could feel how hard he was already, heavy cock pressing against your lower stomach, “You’ll kill me one of these days.”

“No,” You laughed softly, licking his lips playfully, “I’d like to keep you around for a while, Pretty Boy.”

He groaned at the pet name, hips rutting up again just slightly. You moved one hand down his chest, reaching the bottom of the cropped shirt he wore and slipping underneath. You raked your nails over his stomach, delighted at the shudder you could feel in his shoulders. You buried your other hand in the hair at the back of his neck, holding him still as you kissed him again. Part of you hated how perfectly you fit together. How the shape of his nose pressed into your cheek exactly as it should. How his lips slotted against yours like they were made for you. How he was the perfect height to kiss you. How his hands were the perfect size to hold you. It made everything difficult having him so easily. 

He wanted to be slow the first time, but he was clearly in a different mood tonight. You could barely breathe with how deep he kissed you. His tongue so wonderfully strong against yours, against your teeth and lips. The noises he made in the back of his throat went straight to the heat between your legs. You wanted to hear more. 

You tighten the hand in his hair, fisting the chestnut strands and yanking his head back, rough but not enough to hurt. He gasped, breathing heavy as he let you ruin his hair.

“So good for me,” You purred, clamping your teeth down on the spot below his jaw, tongue smoothing over it a moment after.

“Only for you,” He muttered, voice barely there, “God, only for fucking you.”

“Fuck,” You smiled, licking from the collar of his shirt up to his chin, “God you taste so fucking good. Wanna taste all of you,”

You resisted the urge to suck a love bite into his neck as you pressed yourself against him harder, canting your hips just enough to make him hiss, “Let me taste you, baby?”

“F-fuck,” He shuddered, flinching as your cold fingers brushed against the skin exposed by the cutouts in the side of the jeans. The skin you had been eyeing all night. The cutouts you had already expressed your admiration for. 

“Please Vik,” You practically begged as you mouthed at his neck, hands flatting against his hips, fingers under the edge of the denim, “Let me get on my knees for you.”

“God, fuck ,” He whimpered, dropping his head to pull you into another kiss, “Are you sure? You don’t have to.”

“I don’t have to do anything,” You laughed against his lips, hands moving to the sides of his face. His heavy lidded eyes met yours, pupils blown wide, “I want to. I want you in my throat.”

He couldn’t help the sound that slipped past his lips, desperate and wanting as he dropped his head into your neck, muffling the sound against your hair. 

“Ano. Ano, kurvo ano ,” He panted, you had been friends with him long enough to not need a translation.

“Good boy,” You said, mouth next to his ear, “Lean back for me.”

You left open mouthed kisses down his throat, palming him through his jeans. When you couldn’t reach any more of his skin from the position you were in, you slid to your knees. The wet grass soaked the knees of your socks. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, enjoying the fucked out look on his face. You hadn’t even touched him yet he was already flushed and trembling in front of you. You loved it.

You pressed a kiss to the skin exposed on his hips, your hand on the other side. You licked at his soft skin, thrilled to find the presence of slight moles hiding there. You bit down hard enough to leave a mark, Viktor’s hips canted forward, apologies spilling past his lips. You ignored him, your hands rubbing over his hips to grip his ass and then rub down his legs. Your palm caught on the ridge of his brace. Hidden completely under his jeans, you had all but forgotten it. 

You ran your hand up his leg gently, sitting back slightly to look at him softly, “Are you okay like this? Are you hurting?”

“I am alright, milá,” Voice gentle even as he panted heavily, hand reaching out to cup your face, “I’m perfectly good.”

You couldn’t help but to lean into his touch, humming against his palm, “You’ll tell me if this doesn’t work, yeah?”

“Promise?” You asked leaning past his hand and pressed your cheek to his front. You could feel him twitch against your face. You breathed him in, the heady scent making your thighs tense.

“I promise,” His voice came out strained and breathy.

It was enough to break you. You pulled back enough to unzip his jeans and shimmy them a couple inches down. You pulled him out, cock heavy and leaking in your hands. You hummed to yourself, admiring him. You had forgotten exactly what he looked like, but you were surprised how big and pretty he was. He was more worked up now than last time, entire cock a pretty shade of pink that darkened gradually up to his tip. You looked up, watching him as you dragged your thumb over his tip, spreading precum and getting more to drip as he twitched. He gasped, chin dropping to his chest as he tried to keep himself up right. You used the slick to coat your hand and slide your fist down his shaft, watching as his whole body flinched at the feeling. He was clay in your hands, trusting you to handle him.

You parted your lips, still watching intently as you gave an experimental lick to the tip of his cock. You couldn’t have dreamed of this noise he made, shocked and desperate and shaky as you dipped down and licked a broad strip along the veins on the underside. You used the point of your tongue to tease the base of his head, swirling over the crease there. His hands fisted at his sides, barely able to keep his eyes open as you tasted him. And he tasted heavenly. Sweet and bitter at the same time, and like his lips, very much like him. 

You were sure he could have come from just the sight of you holding his head against your flat tongue, catching pearls of cum from his weeping tip. When you closed your lips round him, he was loud. He sucked in a sharp breath, groaning heavy at the feeling of your warm mouth around just a small part of him. His hand flew to his mouth, trying to hold back the sounds.

You pulled off, making him whine as you pouted up at him, “I want to hear you. Please Vik, please let me hear you.”

“Fuck, we’re outside ,” He panted, glancing towards the fence that faced the front of the house.

“It’s fine,” You urged, “Please, baby I promise. Everyone is inside, no one’s gonna hear you.”

Before he could respond, you wrapped your lips around him again, this time pushing on to him until he was almost to your back teeth. He cried out, stomach muscles tensing as you hollow your cheeks around him, releasing the tension with a gente pop .

“Oh fuck, milá,” His hands flexing at his sides.

You hummed around him, corners of your mouth turned up in as much of a smile as you could do. The vibration of your throat sent him shaking again. Fingers twitching just next to your head.

“Sensitive are we?” You pulled off and teased, one hand moving steadily up and down, the other cupping his balls, “You can grab my hair, just don’t push on me, okay?”

“Are you sure,” Hesitation hid behind the eagerness, all nerves about hurting you.

“Yes, Pretty Boy,” You breathed, lips ghosting over his cock again, “I trust you.”

Genty he gathered your hair into his fist, holding the strands back from your face. The tension on your scalp grew when you pulled him as far into your throat as you could. You took steady breaths through your nose, unable to help the moans that pushed out of your lungs at the feeling of him twitching just for you. You moved your tongue over him, eyelids fluttering shut at the feeling of his precum dripping down the back of your throat. You steadied yourself against his good leg, a hand wrapped around the back of his thigh as you began to move, your other hand gliding over what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. He did as you asked, hand tangled in your hair, but not controlling your movements. 

You studied him. Taking note of how he reacted to each movement, each slight gag around his cock, each flick of your tongue. The best noises came from when you took as much of him as you could and sucked around him, head moving only slightly. He gasped, uttering nonsense and curses and your name as he basked in the feeling. You wanted more and pulled him farther in in search of it, tears welling in your eyes as he reached the complete back of your throat. You steadied yourself, taking a moment to adjust before swallowing around him.

This made him cry out, knees almost buckling and hips rutting up involuntarily. He cursed, eyes wide as he apologized. You waved him off with a hum, swallowing again before you began to bob your head. You let your eyes fall shut, focusing on the weight of him in your throat and the sounds he was making above you. You could feel the tension in his muscles build under your hand on his leg. He was so close. Just a few motions away. You weren’t done, though.

With gasp you pulled off, circling your fingers just under the head of his cock. Forcing him away from the edge. You panted, pulling in more oxygen than through your nose.

“Ah, fuck. Why?” He whimpered, sounding like he could cry.

“Trust me, Vik,” You assured, pressing your cheek to the top of his thigh and looking up through your lashes, “It’s gonna feel so good, just be patient for me, baby.”

“God, you’re so fucking beautful,” He reached down, brushing a thumb under your eye where yur mascara was blurring.

“You’re sweet,” You hummed, pressing your lips to the base of his cock, mouthing at him as your hand stroked over him again, “So good for me.”

You raised your hand, lifting him enough for you to have access to lick over his balls. He groaned at the feeling and you heard a soft thud as he dropped his head back against the wall. You replaced your mouth with your hand, gently squeezing him in time with the thrust of your hand. You licked up from the base to tip, not wasting time in bringing him back between your lips. 

Velvet, you realized. His skin felt like velvet under your tongue. You moaned around him, pressing your thighs together as you sank further unto him. You picked up your pace, making obscene sounds as you moved up and down his length. You had wanted to go slow at first, but this pace was for you, too. You couldn’t help it. You chased his release with an eager tongue, anticipating him.

“ Ah, I’m close, Lasko,” He gasped, hips twitching in the tiniest of bucks, not letting himself get too carried away. His hand tightened in your hair, trying to pull you off before he came.

You made a noise of protest, pushing him to the back of your throat again and looking up at. Eyes narrowed as you made clear what you wanted.

“Oh fuck ,” His voice was thick with a mix of his accent and lust. He let you grab his hand, braced against his stomach as you began to move again, “You are heaven sent .”

His jaw hung open as you continued the pace, slowing down every couple of thrusts to swallow around his tip. He took short strained breaths as you pulled him closer and closer. Pitch of his voice canting up as he moaned, the whimpers that slipped past his lips making your own wetness pool between your legs. 

He cried out as he finally came, whole body tense as you slowed your movements. You held him in the perfect place in your mouth, cum painting the back of your throat and mixing with spit on your tongue. You groaned, breathing heavy through your nose as you took everything he had to give. The taste was addictive, you could've stayed here forever on your knees, his slightly bitter cum filling your mouth. 

Eventually, Viktor hissed in near pain. The feeling of your warm mouth around his oversensitive cock too much to handle. Gently he tugged on your hair, coaxing you off him.

“Come here,” He held your arm steady as you stood on shaking legs, your knees aching from holding your weight for so long. 

“Was that good?” You asked like you didn’t already know the answer, pulling you swollen bottom lip between your teeth.

“There is a special place for you in heaven,” He told you, hands grasping the sides of your face and forehead dropping to yours. You could feel the cool sheen of sweat over his body, it made the short hair curl where you played with it at the base of his neck.

“Hm, so sweet to me,” You cooed, reaching down and tucking him away gently, deciding it probably wasn’t a great idea for him to just hang around with his dick out. 

He tilted his chin, catching your lips with his. His tongue pushed into your mouth where he surely tasted himself. He let out a shaky breath against your mouth, lips pulled back but tongue still pressed against yours. He kissed you deep, hands moving down to your waist pulling you flush against him as he practically ate out your mouth.

You let the sounds you were making go, letting him hear how he made you feel. Without warning, he gripped you tight and spun you around, pressing your back to the house. He braced his weight with one arm against the wall behind you. He was still licking into your mouth as the other hand dropped between your bodies. He pushed his hand past the waistband of your shorts, cold fingers making you gasp as they came in contact with your cunt. 

“Oh, fuck , Vik,” You keened, jaw dropping as he slid his hand further into your shorts, fingers teasing at your entance before retreating back to your clit. 

Careful he pulled his arm off the wall, gently smearing away the ruined makeup beneath your eyes. He dropped his forehead to yours, breathing in every pant you gave, watching you intently as you gasped and rutted your hips into his hand. He moved his arm back to the wall, steading himself for you as he pressed two long fingers in, curling them in a way that made you see white. 

“So fucking wet,” He breathed, eyes barley open, “soaked just from sucking my cock, God so fucking dirty.”

You whimpered, one hand holding onto his arm above your shoulders, fingers surely bruising his flesh where you pressed. The other hand fisted in the back of his hair, pulling him close enough to kiss. You tried to muffle yourself with his lips, moaning directly into his mouth, biting down on his lip when you felt yourself getting louder.

“Hm, not fair,” He scolded, realizing what you were doing, “Let me hear you. Only sound I ever need to hear again.”

Oh, how you loved incoherent orgasm induced poetry. 

He dragged his fingers in and out of you at a teasing pace, his thumb pressed to your clit. Each tiny motion of his hand brought you closer and closer. His name tumbled from your lips, everything about him clouding your cells. 

You almost didn’t hear the slide of the back door.

You gasped pulling away from him with wide eyes, head smacking against the siding as you did so. The hand on the wall cupped the back of your head, holding the sore spot you caused yourself. The other retreated swiftly, the heel of his hand resting against your waist, sure to keep his soaked fingers from ruining your clothes. You blinked at him, trying to calm your breathing enough to hear. Behind your pulse you heard footsteps on the wooden deck, they stopped right before the stairs. You hadn’t realized until now that the air was cold enough to see your breath. His and yours formed a cloud between you, white condensation huffed from your lungs as you waited.

Lest’s voice shouting your name into the dark made your heart sink. You loved her, but right now you could kill her.

Reluctantly, Viktor stepped away from you, dry hand steadying your waist. You grabbed the other, pulling his fingers up to your lips and hastily licking yourself off them. He swallowed hard, then surged forward, kissing you through his hand, tongue running between his fingers and against yours. 

He pulled away, wiping his spit covered hand against his jeans as you adjusted your clothes. Your name rang again from the porch, you could hear the creak of the top step. You glanced down at yourself and shrugged. Disheveled for sure, but it’d have to be good enough.

You grabbed Viktor by the chin, thumb brushing over his bottom lip, “Catch you later, Pretty Boy.”

You pressed a quick kiss to his open lips and darted away. Shaking out your hair and continuing to adjust your clothes as you went to Lest. She shouted your name a third time.

“Yeah, I’m coming!” You told her, picking up your pace.

‘If only’, you thought, frowning to yourself.

At some point, you realized you were done. No amount of vodka redbulls or dancing or drinking games were gonna keep you on your feet. The party was still thriving well past the hours when it would normally end. You were coming down from everything and needed to be somewhere that wasn’t a hot sticky crowded house. 

You wandered to the front porch. The rain had stopped, but the air was just as cool as earlier. You sank down to sit on the edge of the stairs, the rough concrete catching on the fabric of your shorts. You pulled your knees up and leaned back on your palm, basking in the cool air and watching as the moon slowly came in and out of view behind the clouds. The muffled sound of music and people was relaxing. You liked the feeling of disconnecting, but still being nearby. 

You stayed like that for who knows how long, letting goosebumps crawl up your sore thighs and arms. Breathing slowly and occasionally moving out of the way for the few people that came in and out through the front door. You closed your eyes, leaning back and paying no mind when the door opened once again, music growing loud for a second before it was once again muffled.

“You’ll catch your death out here,” Viktor’s accent told you, you laughed softly at the phrasing, “Are you not freezing?”

“Hm, I’m cold, but not freezing,” You told him, not opening your eyes until you felt a jacket being placed over your shoulders, you snorted a laugh, “Thank you.”

“Hm, you should take better care of yourself,” He said, sitting down next to you, using his cane to lower himself slowly, “We have a big project next week, it’ll suck to be down a person,”

“How thoughtful,” You rolled your eyes and sat up next to him, knees closer to your chest.

“Any time, milá,” He muttered what you were beginning to recognize as a pet name in his native language, “Anytime.”

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. With his jacket over you and him this close, you were dizzy with the smell of him. Obsessed with it.

“Are you feeling alright?” He asked, taking your hand from where it rested in your lap. He pressed his thumb into your palm, long fingers moving against yours, brushing against the newly forming calluses on your fingertips, “Why are you out here all alone?”

“Just wanted to be alone,” You told him, closing your eyes and leaning into him further.

“Would you like me to leave?” He asked, sincere and unoffended.

You grabbed his hand, holding it tight as you shook your head against him, “No, please don’t.”

He didn’t need any more convincing than that. He slid slightly closer, the side of his body pressing to yours. He gently pulled his hand from yours, sliding his arm to your back, hand resting at the nape of your neck as he brushed his fingers through the fine hair there. You hummed, pressing closer to him, nearly overwhelmed with how nice it felt to be next to him like this.

“Can I tell you something?” He asked, voice slightly hesitant as he broke the comfortable silence.

“Of course,” You’d like him to tell you everything.

“Sky asked me out yesterday,” He said it quietly but quickly, you tried not to react but you knew he could feel the way you tensed.

“I’m not surprised,” You told him, forcing yourself to sit up and look at his face, “What did you tell her?”

You hoped your face didn’t give away too much. He could go out with Sky if he wanted. You and him were not technically together. Sharing liquor and drunk blowjobs didn’t count as a relationship.

“I…I told her I’d get back to her,” He flinched at his own words, guilt creasing his pretty face, “Which is an absolute dick move, but I panicked.”

“Well, if you like her,” You shrugged like it didn’t matter, “then you should go out with her. There’s no reason not to.” 

He frowned, chewing on the inside of his lip, “And if I don’t like her?”

“Then why would you go on a date with her?” If stung. Like it was an option. Of course it was an option, you knew that, you didn’t have any right to be upset with him.

He huffed, “You are making this difficult,”

“Viktor, I can not make decisions for you,” You told him sternly, not upset with him, just frustrated.

“I know, I’m sorry,” He shook his head, scoffing a laugh, “I shouldn’t have said that. Forget I said anything, I’ll handle it.”

You were pretty sure you knew what that meant. You did understand where he was coming from. Getting asked out by someone you weren't interested in was tough, even more so when that person was a friend. 

“Good,” You nodded, and leaned back into him, tone turned teasing, “now will you stop trying to ruin the moment, this feels good.”

‘Hm, such a brat,” He joked back, you could feel the tension leach out of him, “Always getting what she wants.”

You scoffed, hitting him lightly on the leg. 

“You deserve it, though, don’t you?” His voice dropped, so soft against your ear when he turned his head slightly, nose pressed to your temple, “You’ve done so much for everyone today.”

His hand moved from its place on your back, moving back in front of him to rest on your knee. You took a shaky breath as he pressed a kiss to your temple, the pressure against your pulse dizzying. 

“Vik,” You warned, voice barely there as his hand moved up your thigh, stopping at the edge of your socks.

He ran his thumb over the elastic pressing into your thigh, over the small dip it made in your flesh. Slowly he pushed his fingers under the fabric, making more contact with the soft skin of your leg and squeezing gently.

“Hm, you deserve to be taken care of,” He hummed, fingers kneading into your flesh, perfect against your arguable sore muscles, “You do so much for other people.”

You couldn’t help the shuddery breath that slipped past your lips. He pressed another kiss to the side of your face, dropping his head to press his nose against the spot under your ear. You felt his teeth graze across your skin, tongue there only a moment later. 

“Let me take care of you,” He practically begged, hand moving out from under your sock and up your thigh. His breath was hot against your skin, you could feel his eyelashes brush against you, “Stay with me tonight, oh god please stay with me tonight.”

The desperation in his voice went directly to your core, you resisted the urge to press your thighs together. You couldn’t believe he was making you feel like this a second time tonight.

“Viktor,” Your voice came out breathier than you had meant it to. 

He pulled his face away from your neck, meeting your eyes as his hand traveled even higher up, and dipped lower between your thighs. Only inches away from where he had been for only a few moments earlier tonight. His face was so close to yours, lips still slightly red from when you had kissed him hours ago. His pupils were blown wide, eyes hooded as he stared at you. Stars in his eyes.

“I could make you feel so good,” He purred, “I could make you feel so so good. I could take care of you so well, you deserve it. Let me show you how you made me feel earlier.”

His voice was straining as he spoke. Desperate and needy. You were sure if you reached over you’d find him to be half hard already.

You closed your thighs around his hand, keening for him as you pressed your forehead to his. You were forgetting all the stupid reasons you had been denying him. Any rule of thumb you had established went up in smoke. It didn’t matter. None of it fucking mattered.  A yes was right on the tip of your tongue. A plea for him to take you to his bed and never let you leave was a breath away from slipping out. 

Before you could let the words fall out of your mouth the font door slammed open. You practically choked as you sucked in a gasp. You and Viktor threw yourselves away from each other, out of the compromising position. You sat wide eyed and red faced with your thighs pressed together, practically a foot of space between you and Viktor.

“You two are un-fucking-believable,” Lest scoffed, take the few steps down the stairs to stand on the sidewalk in front of you. Her eyes were alight with anger, perfect face turned down in a look of disappointment that bordered on disgust.

“Wh-what?” You stuttered, trying to control your breath. 

“You heard me,” She snapped, arms crossing over her freckled chest, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Lest!” You scoffed, truly taken off guard by her anger, “What are you talking about.”

“You both are sharing the award for shittiest friends on the planet,” Lest told you, dramatic as always.

“Lest, what-” Viktor tried, shaking off his stunned expression, eyebrows furrowing.

“No,” She held up a finger to him, cutting him off, “You know what I’m talking about Seriously, how could you do this to Sky?”

Oh…that's what this was about.

Lest hissed your name, “You know how she feels, you fucking know. And you .” She turns to Viktor, “What is wrong with you? Dragging her around like this? If you don’t like Sky, fucking tell her. Don’t tell her that you’ll ‘get back to her’ and then go get head from a different girl.”

“Lest!” You snapped, not knowing what else to say, “We didn’t-“

“There are grass stains on your fucking knees ,” She seethed your name at the end, then rubbed a crease out of her forehead.

“You,” She snapped, jabbing a finger in your direction, “You need to stop being a jealous, passive aggressive bitch,” And you, attention on Viktor, “need to learn how to be a fucking man.”

Your head was spinning. Lest had been mad at you before. It was in her nature to be protective and aggressive and say what she thought. Never had this level of rage actually been directed straight at you. It made your hands shake, every ounce of guilt and shame you’d ever carried floating to the surface of your skin. 

“I’m spending the night with Sky,” Lest told you, jaw set, “because she’s fucking torn up over this, even if she won’t admit it.”

And with that she was leaving. Stalking off and down the street to catch an uber somewhere where she didn’t have to look at you. You stared after her, frozen. Hands shaking as your head swam.

Viktor said your name gently, reaching out for your shoulder. You flinched involuntarily, standing up in one quick motion, his jacket falling from your shoulders. 

“I…” Your voice caught in your throat, “I’m gonna go home.”

“Hold on,” Viktor said, pushing himself up off the stairs, steadying himself on the cane and grabbing your wrist before you could get away, “Wait, please, just…let me get you a ride home at least.”

You could tell he wanted you to stay, and you could tell he knew you wouldn’t, “No, it’s fine. I just… I want to walk, it’s not far.”

You knew you were not sober enough to try to drive, you didn’t think your shaking hands would even let you. 

“Milá, it’s freezing ,” He gaped at you, eyes full of fear and worry, “Please.”

You tried to pull your wrist from his grasp, “Viktor, I’m fine . Please, just let me go.” You could feel hot tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Oh god, you didn’t want to cry in front of him. Not now, not like this.

“At least take my jacket?” He offered, grabbing it from the ground with his other hand and holding it out to you, “Please, you’re barely dressed. Please just put on a jacket.”

You hesitated, but slowly reached out and took it. Watching the ground as you slipped the heavy coat over your shoulders. 

“Please let me know when you get home safe,” He said, voice reluctant to let you go, “Please.”

You nodded, cursing the way your voice broke, “Goodnight Viktor.”

You turned and walked away, trying to hide the shaking of your shoulders in the borrowed jacket. You were barely down the street before the first sob finally broke out of your chest. You zipped up the coat, burning your face in the neckline of it and tried and failed to calm yourself down as you walked back to your dorm room. 

You were still crying when you finally collapsed into your bed, Viktor’s heavy coat still wrapped around you. You barely remembered to text Viktor. His face and name appear on your screen, reminding you of your promise. You declined the call, instead just texted him a brief ‘home.’ before shutting off your phone and letting yourself fall into a restless sleep. 

Chapter Text

When you woke in the morning, you told yourself that the memories of last night had just been a dream, the type that turned into a nightmare right before waking up. The ache in your jaw and Lest’s empty bed told you otherwise. Viktor’s heavy coat was still wrapped tightly around you, holding in an unnecessary amount of body heat. You shifted uncomfortably, sitting up on your forearms with a groan. You felt dirty, in the same sweat soaked clothes as last night, makeup smeared around your eyes, and teeth unbrushed. Which, considering the service you had provided last night, was particularly uncomfortable. 

You slid off the bed. You hadn’t felt drunk when walking home last night, but a wave of nausea and the way your legs shook told you that your body was still struggling against the alcohol in your system. You steadied yourself against the bed, waiting out the feeling. When you were sure you’d be able to walk without throwing up Red Bull and vodka, you pulled the blinds shut and began to peel off last night's layers. 

You shrugged out of his coat, inspecting it for any rogue makeup or glitter you may have left on it. Luckily it stayed clean while you slept. During your examination, you did find ‘ V. Sýkora’ stitched sweetly into the back of the collar, just above the flannel lining. The red thread was faded and fraying on some of the letters, worn in with the jacket over time. You pressed the collar to your nose, breathing in the scent of him. It was stronger on this than on either of the shirts you had stolen from him, you wished you could live in it forever. He wore this coat nearly every day though, he'd want it back. He probably wanted his t-shirts back, too. Tears pricked your eyes, not at the idea of giving him back his clothes, but at how much of a mess you had let this become.

You sighed, draping the coat over the back of your desk chair and continuing to get undressed. You had fallen asleep fully dressed, only managing to kick your sneakers off before climbing into bed. The tall socks had left itchy red lines around your thighs and the grass stains on the knees reached your skin. You tossed them, along with the rest of your clothes, into your laundry bag before heading to the shower where you were sure to spend most of your time overthinking.

Before your hair even had time to dry, you were hesitating in front of Sky’s door. Every time you were about to step foot onto her cutesy welcome mat, a fresh rush of cowardice would send you reeling back down the hall. You stood there, fine-tuning the apology you had written in the shower for a few more seconds before walking back to the door. You did this what felt like a dozen times. 

You did this until Sky’s door opened on its own as you retreated once again. You gasped and spun around, expecting to see Sky heading out to enjoy her Saturday. Instead you were met with the sight of Viktor in the open door frame. He furrowed his eyebrows, taking you in for a moment before glancing over his shoulder and shutting the door behind him. He took a hesitant step, fist tight around the handle of his cane. His face held the same slight tension as when he was pouring over a new concept in class he didn’t quite understand yet. He opened his mouth, words hanging just behind his teeth, but decided against it. You couldn’t speak to him. Not right now, and to some degree he could tell. He let out a short, shaking breath and walked past you without a word. 

That was enough to force you to Sky’s door, giving a sharp knock before you could back down. Your fists were balled at your sides in an effort to keep you from picking at the skin around your nails. Instead you opted to dig the tips of your nails into the palm of your hands, hard enough to leave marks. When Sky opened the door a tired question of Viktor’s name was halfway out of her mouth, falling short when she saw it was you instead.

“Oh,” She eyed you with a tired hesitation. 

“Hey,” You said, curling your shoulders in on yourself and slouching, hoping to ease any idea that you came here in anger, “Could we…could I talk to you?”

She nodded, still watching you cautiously as she let you into her room. Her bed was unmade and she was still in her PJs. Viktor must have woken her up. Part of you felt bad for interrupting her morning, but this had to happen now or you knew you’d never do it.

“What’s up?” Sky shifted her weight from foot to foot, her arms were crossed over her stomach protectively, fingers yanking at a loose thread on her sweatshirt.

“Sky I…” Your throat closed up, the apology speech you had rehearsed on the walk to her dorm room drying to a crisp on your tongue.

“Listen, It’s fine,” She let out a heavy sigh, shaking her head as she tried to brush you off, “Lest shouldn’t have said anything, it doesn’t need to be a thing.”

“It already is a thing,” You pointed out, nails back to digging in your skin, “Just…give me a second, okay.”

She sighed, looking at you the same way someone would look at a wet stray cat, with pity and disgust.

  “Would you like a cup of tea?” She said, turning to the counter under the window behind her. Two used mugs already sat there, she must have offered Viktor the same thing.

“Yes please,” Having something in your hand would make this easier.

Sky pulled out a fresh mug, dropping a teabag in as she started the kettle up. You followed her lead as she took a seat in her desk chair. The other one already angled towards her, where Viktor had been only minutes ago. The water only took a few seconds to boil, already warm from earlier, and she stayed sitting as she reached over to fill the mugs. You took the one she slid towards you, holding it tightly. Letting the hot water reach through the ceramic to burn your palms. She watched you expectantly, waiting for you to say what you came here to say.

You took a heavy breath, hoping you didn’t look too pitiful when you told her, “I’m so sorry, Sky.”

She nodded, taking a sip of her tea. Letting you go on.

“I’ve been a horrible friend,,” You tried to organize your thoughts from earlier, “and I don’t…I don’t expect to be forgiven. I just need you to know that I know. I know how I’ve been acting. I know I’ve been childish and nasty. I knew you liked him, I knew you were talking to him first, and I still crossed that line. I tried to lie to myself and say it didn’t matter, that I wasn’t doing anything wrong, but we both know that’s not true…” 

You let out a shaky breath, realizing your apology was on the verge of becoming a jumbled mess, “And I’m so so sorry. If I could go back and undo it all, I would…but I can’t. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Sky stared into her mug. Chewing on the inside of her cheek as she conjured up a response.

“Viktor turned me down,” She told you, meeting your eyes and giving a sad laugh, “Just now. Part of me knew he would when I asked him out, but when he didn’t give me an answer right away, I just…hoped I guess. I shouldn’t have, I mean, he’s obsessed with you. I don’t think everyone else sees it yet, but for months I’ve been watching him watch you .”

“Sky I-” You shook your head, trying to protest, but she raised a hand to stop you.

“C’mon, I know you know,” She scoffed, rolling her eyes at you, “How couldn’t you? It honestly baffles me that you won’t just date him, like fucking around with him at parties and spending all your time with him isn’t practically the same thing.”

You tried to hide the way her words made you flinch. You wondered if the rest of your friends could see what was going on. If you were really this obvious. 

“I never thought you’d be…mean?” She said the word like it wasn’t quite the right descriptor, “To me. Despite all of it. Despite the fact that I am certainly not a threat to whatever it is you want from him. Then last night you went out of your way to get what you wanted, because you always have to get what you want.”

You opened your mouth to defend yourself, she didn’t let you.

“Don’t pretend like it wasn’t on purpose. I saw you.” She said, leaning forward in her seat, “I saw you last night, watching us. The second you decided he was giving me too much attention, you took him back, blew him in the backyard to remind him who he really wanted.”

You couldn’t help the tears that welled in your eyes, blinking them back. Urging them not to fall. It was an odd feeling, to be scolded by the kindest person you knew. It was embarrassing.

Sky gave an exhausted sigh, “But, at some point I think I moved on without realizing it. I expected it to hurt when he told me no. I expected to be a mess, the kind that can only be cleaned up by romcoms and a pint of ice cream. But, when he gave me his answer, I didn’t care. I’m glad he apologized for being a dick,” She laughed softly, “But I’m also glad he didn’t decide that he wanted to be with me all of the sudden, because that's not what I want anymore.”

You stared down at the undrunk tea in your hand. Still hot, but going cold as you tried to piece together what she was saying.

“Basically,” She huffed, “I just don’t give a fuck anymore. You and Viktor can do whatever the hell you want. Fuck him, marry him, kill him for all I care,” She snorted a laugh, you could feel the tension ebbing away, “I don’t want him. All I want is for everything to go back to the way it was. I miss hanging out with you without feeling like you want to push me into traffic.”

Her tone was joking, but the idea that she had been able to sense the misplaced animosity you harbored was rough.

“I…okay,” You nodded, setting the tea to the side, “So we’re good?”

“Mostly,” She said, as you both stood up, she let you pull her into a hug, her curly hair tickling your cheek as she decided to reciprocate, holding you close to her. She laughed against your shoulder, “You and him are still dickheads, though, and you’re lucky I’m not vindictive.”

You laughed, “I know. I’m glad you're being…cool about this. But I want you to know I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t forgive me. I do really love you, Sky, I should never have let myself act like that.”

She pulled away, hands on your arms, “Do me a favor and work on that jealousy thing, yeah? You’re too pretty to act like that, really.”

“Okay, mom ,” You laughed, “Can I get you lunch today? I know you said we’re good, but I’m still willing to buy your forgiveness.”

“Not today,” She said, squeezing your arm and stepping back, “Me and Lest have plans, but next time we get drinks, it's on you.”

You tried not to flinch at the mention of Lest. She had spent the night here as far as you knew. She must have been heading back to the dorm as you were on your way here. Sky was quick to forgive, even if you didn’t deserve it. Lest, on the other hand, was going to be a wild card. She was most likely still carrying all the rage that Sky refused to cling on to. You wondered if she’d still be in the room when you got back. You weren’t sure if you wanted her to be or not.

On the way out, you grabbed Viktor’s jacket from a coat closet that probably hadn’t been used since the dorm had been built over half a century ago. You had hid it there as you came into the building, knowing that wearing his coat to talk to Sky would’ve been a bad look. You realized you should have told Viktor to grab it on his way out. It’d be fine. You were heading to his house anyways, your truck was still parked in his driveway. If you were lucky you’d be able to drop his coat off and snag your keys without running into him.  

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see him. It was that you had no idea what to say to him. You had created this mess of friends and feelings and bad decisions, and it was going to take more than one conversation with Sky to smooth it all over completely.  You didn’t bother zipping up the coat as you stepped outside. You let the cold air slither in along your body, embracing the bite of it as a kind of punishment for your mistakes.

You flinched as a grey car came to a stop against the curb a few feet in front of you. You bristled, preparing to tell off whatever man felt like bothering you today. When the window rolled down, you found yourself wishing it had in fact been a random man.

Viktor watched you in the side mirror, “Where are you going?”

“Home,” You lied, refusing to move closer to him. 

“Your dorm is in the other direction,” He pointed out, when you didn’t say anything he sighed, “Would you like a ride to pick up your truck?”

“No, it’s fine.” You shook your head, “I can walk.”

He scolded you with your name, “It’s five degrees, you’ll get sick.”

“It was colder last night,” You said stubbornly, feet planted.

“Yeah, well you were drunk and upset last night,” He said, “And you shouldn’t have walked home in the first place.”

“Why do you care so much?” 

“God above,” He groaned, shaking his head. The backlights of the BMW lit up as he shifted into reverse and backed up until his window was where you were standing. “Because you are my friend and I care about your wellbeing. “

You crossed your arms over your chest, fighting off a shiver as a particularly strong gust of wind pushed against you, “I’m fine.”

He rubbed the space between his eyebrows, eyes squeezed shut, “Get. In. The. Car.”

You resisted the urge to stomp your foot on the ground like a toddler. Instead you walked around the front of his car, dropping yourself into his passenger seat. You shut the door with more force than necessary and turned to him with a huff, “Happy?”

“Yes,” He nodded, putting the car into drive, “Put your seatbelt on.”

“Put your seatbelt on, please ,” You leaned over, looking at him pointedly.

He rolled his eyes, then plastered a sickeningly sweet expression on his face, “Will you please put on your seatbelt, Darling.”

“Hm, that’s more like it,” You turned up your nose, sitting back in your seat and buckling up. 

“ Spratek ,” He muttered under his breath as he pulled the car away from the curb.

You wouldn’t admit it to him, but you were glad you accepted the ride. His car was warm and overly clean and smelled like him. It felt like him, too, all clean lines and stoic shapes. Your European car knowledge was certainly lacking, but there was something eerily familiar about the interior of his car. 

“Is this a…Touring,” You asked, running a fingertip over the handle of the door.

“Yes,” He confirmed, “19…89, yeah, 89. Not the nicest car in the world, but it does the job.”

“It’s the same car my first boyfriend had,” You scoffed, thinking about the junker you had spent too much time in, “I hated it. It was ugly and red and a mess all the time… lost my virginity in that piece of shit car.”

“Oh, hm, I’m…sorry,” He said it like a question, a little taken off guard by the admission.

“I like yours more,” You mused, leaning back and watching campus grow smaller in the side mirror, “It’s nicer, feels better. The car, I mean… well, I guess the sex, too.”

You laughed softly at your  own words, looking over to find a blush gracing his cheeks. 

“Thank you,” He nodded awkwardly, staring straight ahead. The way his demeanor shifted never failed to amuse you. One second he’s demanding you get in his car like he owns you, the next he’s turning red when you mention you liked having sex with him. 

“So…” You led, spinning one of your bracelets around your wrist, “What did you say to Sky? You don’t have to tell me… just curious.”

“I apologized,” He said, shrugging, “and I told her that I am not interested  in her in that manner, and I shouldn’t have led her to believe that I was by not turning her down immediately. I did tell her that anything that is happening between us is none of her concern.”

You hummed to yourself, taking in his words. The way he said ‘us’ left a weight in your chest. Us. Us. Us.  

“What about you?” He asked, glancing over, “What did you say?”

“I apologized for being a jealous bitch,” You scoffed, picking at the edge of your nail, “For being mean to her, breaking ‘girl-code’ and all that.” You rolled your eyes, feeling childish.

“I don’t understand,” He frowned, “What are you jealous about? What’s girl-code?”

“Girl code is basically, like, rules we’re supposed to follow,” You shrugged, realizing you had never had to explain the weird intricacies of being a girl to a man other than your father, “I mean, not like hard and fast rules, but basic stuff. Guys have the same thing, I’m sure. Things like keeping secrets or protecting each other, ya know. The number one rule, though, is to never ever fuck around with a guy your friend is interested in. Like, ever .”

“Hm, that only seems partially reasonable,” He said, “I told you that I was not interested in Sky before we had sex.”

“Well, yeah, but that doesn’t matter,” You said, “I knew she liked you, and I fucked you anyways. That wasn’t cool.”

“But even if we had not had sex,” He frowned at the road like he was looking at chemistry on a chalkboard, “It wouldn’t change the fact that I am not interested in Sky.”

“Yes, I know, but that's not the point,” You exasperated, “It’s the principle of it.”

“That is dumb,” He said plainly.

“Well, fine, you can think it’s dumb,” You tossed your hands up, “But that doesn’t change the fact that I hurt Sky’s feelings.” 

He was quiet for a moment, “How did she respond?”

“Graciously,” You sighed, “As always.”

“Why do you sound disappointed?” He asked, the car slowing as he pulled into the neighborhood.

“I’m not, It’s just that it felt,” You hesitated, trying to find the right words, “too easy? I guess.”

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t know… I mean, she said that she doesn't care anymore,” You shrugged, “that she wants things to go back to normal and everything to just be cool, but I’m worried she’s still upset. That she’s just forgiving me to make it go away?”

“Well, if she is forgiving you before she’s ready,” He said slowly, “Then, that would be her problem, no? It’s not like you forced her to forgive you.”

“I mean, yeah, I guess?” Damn him for being so practical. You opened your mouth to continue to debate but he cut you off.

“Listen, you are not responsible for how other people feel,” He looked over sternly, “You apologized to Sky and, whether she’s ready to or not, she forgave you. At this point, it sounds more like you don’t forgive yourself, regardless of what she is feeling.”

Read you like a damn book. You huffed, dropping your head into your hands and scoffing a laugh, “I didn’t realize you were so introspective.”

“Jinx called me a fortune cookie last week,” He told you, “I’m not introspective, I’m just observant…and I think you are being too harsh on yourself. What good comes from dwelling on something that you aren’t even sure of?”

“I’m a scientist,” You laughed, leaning back in your seat, “Dwelling on the unknown is kind of our thing, right?”

“Kind of,” He agreed with a soft laugh, “But this is unproductive dwelling, not scientific dwelling.”

He slowed to a stop outside his house, car idling but not in park, both of you hesitating. Raindrops were beginning to darken the sidewalk and slide down the sides of your truck that sat waiting in the driveway. The wind whipped around a tree in the front yard.

Viktor spoke your name cautiously, “Do you have plans today?”

“No.” You said, looking over and meeting his eyes.

“Do you want to go on a drive?”

“Yes,” You spoke before he even finished his words and he was pulling away from the curb as you finished yours. 

Picking up your truck and going back to your dorm room ment you’d either be laying around all day overthinking or you’d be having a conversation with Lest. You wanted to talk to her, you did, just…not right now. Sky had seemingly forgiven you, but that wasn’t a guarantee that Lest was in the same mood. Being on the good side of Lest’s rage, you knew how long it took for her to cool down. Being on this side was new to you, but you knew well enough to leave her alone for as long as you could. You weren't sure of Viktor’s reasoning for not going home, but you were grateful either way. 

He just drove and you let yourself relax into the passenger seat. You watched him drive. Watched the perfect side profile of his face as he focused on the road, only moving as he glanced in the mirrors. He looked relaxed for the most part, but the tiniest motion of his eyes and lips let you know that thoughts were racing through his head. He glanced over you sideways, the corner of his mouth tugging just slightly upwards as he met your eyes.

“What?” You caught the slightest sight of his canine when he smiled.

“Nothing,” You shrugged not looking away from him, “You’re just nice to look at, is all.”

He rolled his eyes, but you caught the blush creeping past the collar of his sweater, “You are a strange girl.”

“Maybe,” You said, leaning forward to pull his jacket off your shoulders, you kept it gathered up on your lap.

“Here,” He grabbed his phone from where it was under the radio, an aux cord already plugged in, smirking as he handed it to you, “Stop staring at me and be useful, yeah?”

You scoffed, teasing him, “You thought I was useful last night…”

Another blush, he looked away from you this time as he sputtered, “Just- Just play the music, okay?”

“Yes sir,” You nodded firmly, taking his phone already opened on his music app, “Any requests?”

“Hm, no you choose.” He told you, hitting the blinker as the highway entrance came closer, “Just no Radiohead.”

“No Radiohead?” You mocked a gasp, “But If I wanted to be insufferable today?”

“I was insufferable enough for the both of us this morning,” He told you, “Pick something else.”

You laughed thinking about him listening to Thom Yorke whining over his radio as he drove to apologize to Sky, “Fine, but if it starts really raining later, we’re listening to In Rainbows, it’s only right.”

He just shook his head at you lightly as you scroll through his music to pick something. You took your time combing through his music. You always thought that music taste was the most telling aspect of a person. Some were what you’d expect from a guy like him - Radiohead, Arctic Monkeys, Fiona Apple, Jeff Buckley - some others you were a little surprised by - Paramore, Boygenius, Maya Hawke, Deftones - all of it what you’d consider good music. You were pleased to see female artists in the mix, older music, newer music, some classical and jazz, a few movie scores. Most of the albums were in English, a handful were in what you were pretty sure was Czech, and you could see one or two that were in Spanish - the same albums Jayce had put you onto. 

You picked one of the ones you thought was in Czech, the green and white cover art interesting enough to get your attention. He made a little noise of surprise when the first song started playing.

“You know this band?” He asked, an eyebrow raised as he glanced at you.

“No,” You told him, the music was definitely pop, teetering on the edge of bedroom pop, “The cover looked cool, what does ‘nedělní Luka’ mean?”

“Sunday Luka,” He told you, “This EP is good, I’m not a huge fan of the stuff they released after this. They're a pretty good band, though.”

“Hm, interesting,” You tapped your thigh to the beat, listening to the words you didn’t understand, “I like this a lot actually.”

“Even though you don’t understand the lyrics?” He smirked.

“Eh, I mean I like the Cocteau Twins and I definitely don’t understand the lyrics even though they're mostly in English,” You shrugged, “I’ll google the lyrics to this later, probably. Can I text it to myself?”

“Yeah, of course.” He nodded, “I can send you more Czech stuff if you want?”

“Make me a playlist?” You asked, knowing how hopeful you sounded.

He laughed softly, “I can do that, I’ll pick the best stuff. Round out your music taste a little.”

“Hey, I have great music taste,” You scoffed in mock offense as you copied the link to the album and opened up his contacts. 

You found your own number easily, starred at the top of the list along with Jayce and who you figured was his mother. You bit back a smile at the little ‘<3’ he had put at the end of your name. The picture above it wasn’t one you remembered him taking. It was from much earlier in the semester, when the weather was still nice. You were laying in the grass, probably on the quad telling by the abandoned textbook next to your shoulder, wearing that white sundress that only came out when the weather was particularly good. Your hands were behind your head, eyes closed as you basked in the sun. It was a good photo, you wondered if he’d be embarrassed if you asked him to send it to you.

A little embarrassment of your own was lifted off your shoulders. Clearly he stared at you as much as you stared at him.

You closed his phone before the urge to scroll through his camera roll became too strong and put it back where he had it originally. The eastbound highway that stretched out in front of you was fairly empty, rush hour having just ended. He stayed in the middle lane, shifting gears as he passed other cars he deemed to be going too slow.

“Where are we going?” You asked idly, reaching over to his hand that rested on the gear shift and pulling the cuff of his sweater between your fingertips. It was a little rougher than you had expected, You wondered if it was homemade. 

He pulled his hand away from the shifter and caught your hand, fingers lacing into yours. In a friendly way of course, “Unsure, anywhere you’d like to go in particular?”

“Hm, wherever,” You told him, rubbing your thumb over the side of his hand.

“Let’s just see where we end up, I guess,” He shrugged, glancing over at you, “Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect,” You agreed, squeezing his palm.

You weren't sure how long you had been on the highway. You hadn’t taken notice of the time when getting in Viktor’s car, but it was long enough for the suburban sprawl of Piltover to give way to dense pine forests divided only by farmland and tiny towns. Eventually the highway narrowed down to two lanes, winding through the trees until it hit the coastline where it took a sharp curve north. You watched the sprawl of the Atlantic outside your window, the waves dark and rough due to the weather. It had stopped raining above you, but out over the water you could see torrents falling in dark grey sheets. 

You learned pretty quickly that Viktor preferred to drive fast. You noticed him glancing over for your reaction each time he really stepped on the gas. It was sweet, though you didn’t mind the speeding. You trusted him not to kill you in a fiery car wreck, maybe a little too much. When the highway had narrowed, he was forced to slow down, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel and clearly doing his best not to tailgate the people in front of him. 

An irritated noise from him pulled your attention away from the oceanscape to your right. He was pouting at the car in front of him, thumb bouncing against the side of the steering wheel. You looked ahead at the car in front. An old sticker covered a Subaru wagon, not going below the speed limit, if anything it was probably going almost ten over. Clearly that was not fast enough for Viktor, and a fairly consistent stream of traffic on the other side of the highway kept him from passing. 

You laughed, leaning forward to examine the stickers on the car in front of you, “You’re in quite the rush to go nowhere, aren't ya,”

“Hey, I’m not rushing ,” He insisted waving a hand at you, “I just want to be driving faster .”

“Well chill out speed racer,” You rolled your eyes at him, “You’re probably freaking out this poor lesbian in front of us, she’s gonna start break-checking you.”

“How do you know she is a lesbian,” He scoffed, but eased off the gas to give the Subaru more space.

You leaned forward and read the sticker that had caught your attention, “I like my men how I like my coffee. Not at all, I prefer tea.”

Viktor barked a laugh, “Sounds like Cait.”

“Oh my god, literally,” You giggled, wondering if you'd be able to find a similar one online to gift her. You read out another sticker, “Honk if you think the moon landing was fake.”

“I don’t understand those,’ Viktor admitted, “Does that mean the driver thinks the moon landing was fake?”

“No, I think it means, like, ‘if you honk at me for my bad driving, you're actually admitting you think the moon landing is fake’ or something like that,” You explained, remembering when Lest had explained the same thing to you only a couple of years ago. 

“Hm, Interesting.” He nodded.

“What do you think?” You asked, leaning back in your seat.

“About?” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“The moon landing,” You said, “Do you think it was fake.”

He side-eyed you, eyebrows furrowed in concern, “Do you think it was fake.”

“Well, not exactly.” You shrugged.

“Not exactly!?” He gaped at you, glancing between you and the road, “Actually, we’re going home.”

“No no, wait listen,” You laughed waving your hands at him in defense, “I don’t think the moon landing was fake! I one hundred percent believe that those guys were up there in ‘69.”

“ Sakra, ‘those guys’?” He scoffed, “Really, are you not a scientist.”

“Hey, listen I know their names. But the good one is dead and the other is a psycho republican,” You laughed, “ plus I’m not a space gal, you know that. I find the ocean far more fascinating.”

“Okay, okay, anyways, ” He steered the conversation back to your original question, “Do you think the moon landing was fake?”

“No, like I said, I’m sure they were on the moon, but,” You held a hand up at Viktor, forcing him to let you finish, “I wouldn’t be that surprised if one day it was admitted that the footage everyone knows is fake.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, fighting back a smile, “I supposed that is an acceptable take, but you’re on thin ice.”

“I can give you some more of my bad takes if you’d like, but you might not want to hang out with me anymore,” You laughed, a growl from your stomach cutting you off.

“It’s past noon,” Viktor pointed out, laughing with you gently, “What was the last thing you ate? Did you have breakfast?”

You thought for a moment about the question. When you realized what had technically been the last thing you put in your stomach, you burst into a fit of laughter, and covered your reddening face.

“What?” He asked, confused as you tried to pull yourself together. 

“Nothing, it’s just, uh,” You bit back a smile and glanced down to his lap pointedly, “nothing.”

“Oh, fucking gross,” He scoffed, pushing your shoulder away from him playfully.

“You didn’t think it was gross last night,” You pointed out, teasing him with a poke in the arm. 

“Stop,” He pleaded, looking away from you, his face turning red as he resisted laughing.

“Oh come on,” You said, leaning closer to him, chin almost resting on his shoulder as you invaded his space and dropped your voice, “You don’t have to be shy about it, you can admit you loved coming in my mouth.”

He swallowed hard, hands tightening on the steering wheel in your peripheral vision, “You are very hard to deal with sometimes.”

You tapped your fingers against the bottom of his chin quickly before retreating back to your own space, “You wouldn’t like me very much If I made it easy on you,”

He didn’t respond to that, just shook his head as he hit his blinker and pulled into the center lane, “Well I’m making you eat something that has calories.”

“I’m sure cum probably has some calories, right?” You said only to get a rise out of him.

It worked perfectly of course, he whined your name, “stop talking. If you mention that one more time, I’m sending this car into the ocean with us in it, I swear to god.”

You raised your hands in defense, silently vowing to keep quiet as he waited to turn into the parking lot of a worn out roadside diner.

“Thank you,” he sighed, rolling his eyes as he pulled into the lot.

Gravel crunched under the tires as the Beamer slid into a parking spot. The diner was incredibly unassuming. Weathered and faded, but fairly busy with a Saturday crowd. You stretched when you stepped out of the car, shoulders popping as you pushed your hands to the sky. Viktor freed his cane from the back seat, waiting for you by the hood. When you reached him, he was twisting his spine awkwardly, a hand on his hip and a grimace on his lips as he tried to pop his stubborn joints. 

“You good?” You asked gently.

“Yeah, I’m used to it,” He groaned, then motioned for you to come closer, “Actually, could you come here.”

You stood in front of him, looking up as you were only a foot away. He took your hand gently, placing it on his hip, “Just, like, resist against me when I turn, yeah?”

You nodded, pressing against his hip. You did as he asked, holding his hip back as he rotated his upper body the other direction. A loud pop came from under your hand, and he hissed sharply before relaxing. He sighed, straightening up and grabbing his cane from where he lent it against the hood of the car.

“Feel better?” You asked him, looping the hand on his hip around his lower back instead of retreating, 

“Very,” He nodded, dropping his arm over your shoulders and pulling you closer, he squeezed the top of your arm, “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” You returned the gesture, squeezing his hip where your hand rested as the two of you walked up to the diner door.  

Inside it was warm, the smell of coffee permanently staining the air. The space was narrow but long, almost ironically classic in the way it was set up. A long counter was against one side and booths were pressed to the windows. The counter was occupied by blue collar men in their work clothes. This close to the coast you were sure they had all just come in from an early morning catch. They reminded you of your dad. 

“Go on ahead and find a seat anywhere, kiddos,” An older woman behind the counter waved at you before pouring another cup of coffee, “Someone will be with you in just a second.”

You nodded and followed Viktor to an open booth, untangling yourself from him to slide into the vinyl seat. He watched you from across the table for a moment before dropping his gaze.

“What did you mean earlier, by the way?” He asked, picking at the edge of a sticky menu.

“What?” You tilted your head, unsure of when exactly earlier was.

“You said that I wouldn’t like you if you made it easy,” He said, mouth quirking to the side as he thought about the moment, “What did you mean by that?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” You shrugged, chewing on your lip, “I guess…just most of the time, guys tend to like the chase more than the actual girl. It’s fun.”

“And you think I am like this?” He asked, meeting your eyes almost sadly.

“I don’t know,” You said honestly, “I mean, you don’t have me. Who's to say you’d still like me as much if you did?”

“I would,” He said firmly, “I know I would.”

Before the conversation could continue, a waitress appeared at the end of the table. An overly sweet smile plastered on her face, curly blonde hair pulled into a messy ponytail on the crown of her head. She looked between you, eyes hesitating on Viktor just a second longer than you would have preferred. 

“Good morning, my name’s Nancy, I’ll be taking care of y’all today, ” She said, her voice was high and smooth, “How are you two doing?”

 “Good Morning Nancy, we are well, and you?” Viktor responded, polite as ever.

“I’m doing just fine, thanks for asking,” She smiled wider, glancing at you briefly, “Can I get ya started with some drinks?”

“Just coffee for me,” Viktor told her, looking to you for your response.

“Me as well,” You nodded, attempting your best polite smile. She was just being friendly, you told yourself. It’s her job to be nice.

“Two coffees,” She repeated as she scribbled down the order, “Room for cream?”

“Yes please,” Viktor answered.

“Mine too,” You copied him. Normally you’d just drink diner coffee black, but that nasty little voice in the back of your head was answering for you.

“Easy-peasy,” She said, “I’ll have that right out for y’all.”

You watched Nancy walk away, curls bouncing as she went to get the coffee. Viktor was paying no mind, already skimming through the menu. You picked up your own. Standard diner food, easy enough to choose from. 

“What’re you getting?” You asked casually, glancing up at him over the menu.

“Hm, unsure,” He hummed, glancing up and catching your gaze, “Choose for me?”

“That’s a lot of trust,” You laughed, leaning back in your seat and raising an eyebrow at him.

He shrugged, “I trust you.”

“Okay, then,” You looked over the menu again, “Breakfast or lunch? And what do you hate?”

“Breakfast,” He nodded, “And nothing, I don’t think…eh, actually, no sourdough bread.” 

“You don’t like sourdough? That’s crazy, it’s like the best bread,” You scoffed, offended on behalf of the baked good.

“No, actually, I really like sourdough bread,” He said, “but, I’m sorry, it’s not very good in America.”

“That's a very European take,” You rolled your eyes, “You guys always think you’re better.”

“Listen, with this I am right, trust me.” He assured, “America does have some better… things.”

“Hm, like what?” You smirked at his tone.

“Most fruit is better here,” He nodded with an air of nonchalance,  “Oranges and pineapple, mango as well.” 

“Oh yeah?” You asked, pretending to be busy with the menu despite having already made a decision,  “Good fruit is a plus, for sure.”

“The women here are different, too.” He nodded, “All smiles and low-cut shirts. Very…eager to please.”

You scoffed, glancing back up at him with a retort on your lips already. It died in your mouth when Nancy, with her low cut shirt and wide smile, returned to the table with a set of mugs and a pot of coffee.

“Sorry about that wait,” She laughed, setting the mugs down and beginning to fill them, “Technical difficulties.”

“No worries at all, Nancy,” Viktor said smoothly, sitting up, “Thank you.”

“Of course, honey,” She drawled, you tensed at the term of endearment, “Are you ready to order or do you want a few more minutes with the menu?”

“We’re ready,” You jumped in, immediately regretting how snappy your voice was.

“Perfect,” She stayed facing Viktor, “When can I get going for ya?”

Viktor turned his face to you, nodding for you to go ahead.

“We’ll have the Florentine benedict,” You told her, placing the menu down in front of you.

“Perfect,” She said, turning halfway to you as she wrote it down, “Fries okay with that?”

“Yep.” You nodded and before she could ask, “and he’ll have the same thing.”

She turned to him anyway with a questioning look that he either didn’t see or chose not to acknowledge, “Okay, well, I’ll have that out for you here soon. Holler if you need anything.”

“Thank you, honey,” You gave a tight smile as she walked away.

“Ah, I see it now,” He nodded, narrowing his eyes at you slightly as he pulled his coffee towards himself.

“See what?” You leaned your chin on your hand, circling the rim of your coffee cup with the other.

“That jealousy you were speaking of earlier,” He smirked, “I hadn’t noticed it before. Maybe you hid it better, maybe there was too much going on.”

You hummed, nodding slowly as a blush creeped up your cheeks, “Maybe you just didn’t notice me.”

“That is funny. If there is anything I notice in a room, it is you,” He told you, then casually as if he hadn’t just said what he said, pushed the bowl of cream and sugar packets towards you, “Sugar?”

You swallowed hard, then pushed your mug towards him, “Make it for me?” 

“Are you sure? I make mine sweet,” He warned.

“I trust you,” You pushed the mug farther until it was next to him, “I’m not jealous, by the way.”

“Oh really?” He raised an eyebrow at you in disbelief, “So you were just glaring daggers at the waitress for fun?”

“I…I wasn’t,” You huffed, poorly defending yourself.

“You know,” He began, tearing open a few packets of sugar and pouring it into your coffee, “I don’t find jealousy attractive, but on you…it’s endearing.”

“Well, that’s sweet, but I’m not jealous.” You said sternly.

“Ah, okay,” He poured the same amount of sugar into his own drink, followed by a couple creamers, “So, you wouldn’t mind if I asked Nancy for her number.”

“Viktor, don’t fuck with me,” You deadpanned, frowning at him.

He laughed, sliding your made up coffee to you. Before his hand retreated, he grabbed you gently by the wrist. He held your hand in his, lifting it off the table and examining your palm, “Jealousy does look good on you, but you should know by now,” He flipped your hand over and leaned closer, “It is wholly unnecessary, milá.”

He pressed a kiss to your knuckles, lingering for a moment as he watched you through his lashes. 

You swallowed hard, cheeks burning as he pulled back from your hand. He held your hand for a moment longer before letting you retreat. You picked up the coffee he made up for you, taking a sip. It was sweet, sweeter than you’d normally make it. You liked it. You fought off the idea of tasting the same coffee on his lips. 

“You like?” He asked, sipping his own drink.

“Yeah, it’s good,” You nodded, taking another sip before setting it down, “Thank you.”

“Hey, tell me more about these theories of yours,” He said, setting down his mug.

“Theories?” You tilted your head.

“The moon landing happened, but the footage is fake,” He laughed, “You said this earlier, I’m interested in what other baseless theories you have?”

You barked a laugh, “Okay, sure. My other space theory is that I do believe aliens exist. Like, the universe is theoretically infinite, right? It’s crazy to think that we are the only planet with living things on them, advanced or not. That being said! I do not believe aliens have ever been anywhere close to Earth.”

“Oh, really?” He mused, thinking about it, “Why?”

“Because, what the fuck do aliens want with us?” You shrugged, “Plus, if they’re gonna go through all that trouble to make ships or do whatever it would take to get from there to here for whatever reason, you really think they’d let themselves get caught by the American government? No way.”

“You’ve really thought about this, haven't you? ” Viktor laughed.

“Yeah, well my mom was obsessed with that ‘Ancient Aliens’ show when I was a kid and even at, like, nine years old I knew it was bullshit. Okay, Pretty Boy, your turn. What are your conspiracy theories?”

Viktor hummed, thinking to himself for a moment before speaking, “You know those people who say the Earth is flat?”

“Viktor, no ,” You gaped, “There is no way you believe that.”

“No, hush, let me explain,” He laughed, waving you off, “I think people who say they think the Earth is flat are completely lying.”

“What?”

“I mean, I think they know that it is completely untrue,” He explained, hands gesturing in front of him, “but they like the attention they get from saying they believe the Earth is flat.”

You laughed, “Oh my god, like toddlers. Negative attention is better than no attention.”

“Exactly!” He snapped his fingers and pointed at you, “That’s exactly it.”

You covered your mouth, lowering your head and laughing into your palm to stifle the sound. Well aware of the looks thrown your way by the regular inhabitants of the diner. As your giggles died out, Nancy returned with your plates. 

“Here we are, two Florentine benedicts,” She set the food down on the table, “Plates are a lil’ warm, be careful.”

“Thank you,” You said, settling down, Viktor repeating the words as he slid a roll of utensils towards you.

“Of course, is there anything else I can get for you?” She asked, hands on her hips as she oversaw the table.

“I think we are okay,” Viktor told her, looking over to you for confirmation.

“Yeah, we’re all good,” You agreed, “Thank you.”

“Perfect, if you need anything, just let me know,” She told you before heading away from the table. 

Viktor held his fork out to you, “Cheers, darling, to baseless theories.”

You laughed, and clinked the tines of your fork against his, “To baseless theories.”

When Nancy brought the check, she brought two. Setting the little slips of paper down in front of each of you before picking up your empty plates.

“I assumed separate checks were fine,” She said, glancing down at you briefly before sliding her gaze to Viktor, “And, I’m sorry, I just have to ask! Where is your accent from?”

“New Mexico,” Viktor said flatly, a tight smile on his lips, “And the checks will be together, actually.”

He reached over and grabbed yours from in front of you, folding them together and handing them back to her.

“Oh, uh okay,” She nodded, taking the checks back from him, trying and failing to hide her look of disappointment. You rolled your eyes as she walked away.

“I will admit,” Viktor said, “Normally I believe people read too much into others intentions.”

“Of course you do,” You scoffed at him.

“ But , I do believe that that girl was being quite forward, no?” Viktor glanced over to where the waitress was making up a new receipt behind the counter.

“Oh, you think?” You laughed sarcastically at him, “Viktor, that girl wanted you so bad, she would have let you fuck her on this table if you wanted to.” 

“Always so graphic,” He grimaced, “Does it bother you?”

“No, I wouldn’t say it if it did,” You snorted a laugh.

“No, not that,” He waved you off, “That she wants me. Does somebody else being interested in me bother you?”

You thought for a moment, about whether this was something you could convincingly about. Decided it wasn’t, you told him, “Yes, I hate it.”

“Why?” He tilted his head, waiting for another honest answer.

“Because, I… you’re very want-able,” You stumbled over your words, letting an awkward laugh slip out, “You could be with whoever you want in a second. The fact that you have so many options just kinda…makes me nervous.”

Before he could respond Nancy swooped by the table, dropping off the combined check and muttering a quick, “Sorry about the confusion.”

You reached for the check and Viktor scoffed, snatching it up before you could. 

“Absolutely not,” He said, keeping the check away from you as he pulled out his wallet.

“Vik, you drove, let me get it,” You told him, trying to pull out your own card.

“No way,” He shook his head, pulling cash out, “I just insisted that we were together, I’m not letting you pay.”

“That’s misogyny,” You pouted.

“Brand me a misogynist then. You aren’t paying.” He laughed, leaving the cash on the table as he slid out of the booth, steadying himself on his cane with one hand and extending the other out to you, “Maybe I’ll let you get it next time…maybe.”

You rolled your eyes, but took his hand as you slid out of the booth anyways. You let him lead you through the diner. You let him hold the door open for you. You even let him open the car door and shut it behind you when you got in. Not because you needed or really wanted him to do these things, but because you could tell he enjoyed it. It was sweet.

“You’re wrong, you know?” He told you as the car hummed to life.

“No, I’m never wrong,” You shook your head, “What am I wrong about?”

“You say I can have whoever I want,” He repeated your statement from earlier, turning in his seat to look at you, “But that’s clearly not true.”

“Hmph, and why do you say that?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Because, the only person that I want is you. And clearly I can’t seem to get you, so…” He shrugged, the slightest pout on his lips.

Like usual, he managed to floor you with his words. Stopping all coherent thoughts in your head as he looked at you with those perfect amber eyes. You let out a shaky breath, reaching up to touch his face. He leaned into your hand, rubbing his cheek against your palm and letting his eyes fall shut for a moment.

“Viktor…” You breathed, thumb brushing across the pout on his lips.

He said your name softly, opening his eyes and holding your gaze, “Please let me have you. You're always just out of reach. Please, I just want you.”

“Vik...,” You muttered, running your hand over the side of his head, fingers combing through his soft hair, “Listen, I just… I can’t yet.”

You could have cried at the look he gave you. A harsh line formed between his eyebrows as they pulled together. His eyes were soft, half closed with blown pupils as he leaned into your touch.

“Today’s the 11th?” You asked, hand on the back of his neck, tugging gently at the short strands there, “and our last class is on December 15th, yeah?”

He nodded as you thought about the numbers.

“That’s 65 days.” You told him, squeezing the back of his neck, “In 65 days, if you still want me, I’m yours.”

“65 days…” He repeated, closing his eyes and dropping his forehead against yours, “65 days and you're mine.”

It wasn’t terribly late when you made it back to town, but the winter sun had long set. Viktor insisted on holding your hand for as long as he could, only giving up the contact when switching gears became more frequent. The animal part of your brain found the way he drove incredibly attractive. He was relaxed and confident, never panicked as he checked his mirrors and smoothly switched lanes. You resisted the urge to reach out to him at stoplights. The red glow sinking into the lines and curves of his face, lighting the front of his hair. You stared shamelessly, memorizing the way he looked, and he pretended not to notice.

“You can totally tell me to fuck off if you don’t want to answer this,” You said as he slowed to a stop at one of these lights, “But why do you drive a manual? Isn’t it difficult with your leg?”

“It’s not easy, but it’s how I learned to drive,” He glanced over at you, and shrugged, “I either had to learn to drive a manual or not at all.”

“Hm, that’s fair,” You nodded, it made sense to have to learn to drive in what was available, “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I think it’s incredibly hot that you drive a manual, but did you not consider getting an automatic when you moved here?”

He rolled his eyes at the compliment, a tilted smile on his lips, “No. It’s probably childish, but I drive this way out of spite. I’m used to the way it feels, and I just have to be okay with the fact that on bad days I’m not able to drive.”

“You’ve never struck me as someone resistant to accommodations,” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“I’m not,” He shook his head, “Only for this, I guess. I understand that I have limitations, but I…I don’t know. I want to drive this way, so I do. It’s as simple as that.”

You hummed and nodded, pulling your knee up to your chest and resting your cheek on it, “I get that, like not personally, but I understand your stubbornness.” You laughed softly.

“I’m glad you do, because most people don’t,” He scoffed, “Jayce practically begged me to get a different car. I had to explain to him that not only am I very capable of driving this way,” He gave you a sideways glance, “But women tend to find it sexy.”

“Ah, so you do know you’re hot,” You teased back, grinning against your knee.

“I think you give me more credit than is due in that department,” He scoffed, “But when you’re staring at me all the time , it tends to go to a man's head.”

“It’s not all the time,” You defended weakly, chewing on your lip. 

“Uh-huh,” He hummed, smirking over at you as the light turned green, “Sure.” 

You swatted at his leg gently. He caught your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and holding the back of your hand to his chest. You could feel his pulse on either side of your hand, steady and just a little fast.

“Do you want to take your truck home tonight?” He asked, squeezing your hand before releasing you, “Or I can bring you back to campus and I can pick you up tomorrow to get it?”

You thought for a moment. If you went to his house to get your truck right now, he’d ask if you’d like to come in and say hello to Rio. You’d say yes. You’d sit in his bed. You’d let him put his head in your lap. You’d talk to him for hours. You’d have to force yourself to leave at some early hour of the morning. You’d drive home with an ache in your chest. 

“I can get my truck tomorrow,” You offered, thinking quickly of a way to see him soon without destroying yourself, “If you wanna drive it over we can finish up the lab notes for Monday? If you feel like it.”

“That works,” He nodded, beginning to take turns towards campus, “Should we tell Ekko and Jinx?”

“I think they have plans tomorrow,” You told him a half-lie, they had plans tomorrow night , but you’d really rather work on the notes with just Viktor, “But we can handle it, yeah?”

“Yeah, of course,” He agreed, then laughed, “We’ll make them do it next weekend.”

“I like the way you think,” You snorted, sitting up in your seat as he pulled into the parking lot of the dorm, “Come over at eleven?”

“Sure,” He nodded, putting the car into park at the curb, “If you end up wanting to get your truck tonight, just let me know, it’s not that late.”

“Thanks.” You opened the door, hesitating and turning towards him, “I’m glad we went out today, it was…nice.”

“Me too,” He gave a soft smile.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you leaned into him and pressed a quick kiss against his cheek, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You hopped out of his car, leaving behind his coat and darting away before you could register his reaction. He didn’t pull away from the curb until you were fully inside the building and waving a goodbye through the glass wall.

You let the warmth of the gesture fill you as you climbed the stairs to your dorm. The promise of 65 days you had given him resonated in your ears. Maybe it was too lofty of a promise. Maybe it was one that would never come to fruition. Maybe whatever you felt for each other would fizzle out and die before that last day of class. You weren't sure what would be a harder end to this.

You were wrapped up in idle thoughts of him , you didn’t take notice of the soft giggles coming from inside the room, or the fact that the little sign on your door had been flipped to ‘do not disturb’. It wasn’t until you pushed the door open that you did finally notice what was happening. A few facts hit you at once. Lest was back. Lest was topless. Lest was straddling someone. Lest was straddling a girl. The girl Lest was straddling was Sky Young.

“Oh fuck ,” You yelped, stumbling backwards out of the room and slamming the door closed, “I’m sorry!”

You could hear Lest curse on the other side of the door and the sound of them shuffling around as they pulled clothes back on. Lest is straight. Lest was straight. Sky you had never been sure of, but yesterday she had very much been into Viktor. As you stared in shock at your overly decorated door, puzzle pieces began to fall into place.

They had been spending a lot of time together, you had figured it was because of their shared class. Apparently that wasn’t the only reason. Lest’s anger at you over hurting Sky’s feelings made more sense now. So did Sky’s easily offered forgiveness this morning…after Lest had spent the night with her. 

You began to realize how little attention you had paid to any of your friends this semester. You were paying so much attention to a man that you didn’t even notice your best friend was switching sexualities. You wondered what else you had been missing. Were Mel and Jayce married? Did Jinx finally adopt Isha? Did Vi kill Maddie? As your thoughts began to spiral, the door in front of you was yanked open. Lest, now fully clothed, grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you into the room.

“Sit.” She told you, nudging you towards your desk chair. 

You did as she asked, the fact that the only light in the room was a single desk lamp made you feel like you were being interrogated. Sky, also dressed, was sitting on the edge of Lest’s bed, arms crossed tightly over her chest and cheeks redder than you had ever seen.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t see anything, really,” You said to Sky, hoping to ease whatever embarrassment she was holding

“What happened to knocking?” Lest asked, pulling your attention to her, hands on her hips. You tried not to stare at the mouth shaped bruises on her neck.

“I’m sorry! I wasn’t paying attention,” You stumbled over your words, “I didn’t think- I’m sorry.”

Lest sighed, rubbing out a line between her eyebrows, “It’s fine. Just… don’t tell anyone.”

You scoffed a laugh, “Who am I gonna tell? You two?”

“And Mel.” She pointed out, “Who would tell Jayce, who would tell Cait, who would tell Vi, who would-”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” You held your hands up in defense, “I’m not gonna tell anyone, I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Well, you’ve been a dick lately, so…” Lest shrugged, and then relaxed when you flinched, “I’m sorry. I just.. We’re not ready to share this yet.”

“Yeah, no, I get it,” You assured her, “Not gonna say anything, I promise.”

“I’m gonna head out,” Sky said, standing up awkwardly and pulling her bag onto her shoulder, she hesitated between the door and Lest.

“I’ll walk you back,” Lest offered, reaching for her own coat.

“No, it’s fine,” Sky insisted, “I’m supposed to meet Stebb at the library in a bit anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Okay,” Lest nodded, squeezing Sky’s hand before she left. When the door shut behind her, Lest collapsed onto her bed with a groan.

“Is this why you were so angry at me last night?” You asked, not moving from your chair.

“No…kinda?” Lest tugged at the ends of her hair, “I don’t know, man, this is new… like new new.”

“Like, last night new?” You wanted to know everything, but you weren't sure how much she was willing to give you right now.

“More like an hour ago,” Lest scoffed, shaking her head as she stared up at the ceiling, “Honestly, I think I’ve liked her for a while now, I just didn’t fully get it. Then last night, I…you made her cry, dude. I love you so much, but I could have killed you last night.”

“I know, I’m sorry…I agree, I’ve been a dick,” You chewed on your cheek, then laughed awkwardly, “I talked to her this morning, it makes sense why she was so forgiving.”

“You’re lucky she is,” Lest told you, finally looking over, “I stayed with her last night, that’s when it clicked. I wanted to kiss her so bad, but she was drunk and sad. I left before she woke up. Part of me hoped she wouldn’t remember it.”

“But she did?” You concluded.

“Yep, every sappy fucking word.” She rolled over, groaning into her bed, “It was so embarrassing.”

“Why?” You laughed softly, nervously testing the waters, “I mean, clearly she likes you, too.”

“Yeah, but when I told her she had just been crying over a guy ,” Lest said, voice half muffled, “I should have waited until she wasn’t so upset, that would have been the polite thing to do.”

“Things happen,” You offered, “Trust me, I know.”

“I don’t know how to do this,” Lest said, on the verge of being choked up, “All I wanted to do was talk to you, but I was supposed to be mad at you…”

“Are you still mad at me?” You asked, eyeing her carefully.

“No, I’m never mad at you, not really,” She sighed, rolling back over and pouting at you, “Even when I should be.”

“Good, I’m glad,” You nodded, standing up and edging towards her bed, “I’m sorry I made you want to be mad at me.”

She held her hand out in the offer you had been waiting for. You crossed the last of the space between you and crawled into her bed. She wiggled into your arms, resting her head on your shoulder and holding onto you. She smelled like Sky’s perfume.

She said your name softly, “I’m scared.”

“Why?” You smoothed a hand over her hair.

“Because I don’t know how to do this,” She told you, toying with the hem of your sleeve, “I’ve always been the girlfriend, I don’t know how to be in a relationship with another girl.”

“My love, you’d still be a girlfriend,” You laughed softly, “You don’t need to act any different because you’re with a girl instead.”

“I guess…I just don’t know how to do this.” She pressed her face into your shirt, “My parents are going to have something to say. Everyone is going to have something to say.”

“I’m saying this out of love, but your parents were like 75% fine with you transitioning,” You teased gently, tugging at a strand of her hair, “Shouldn’t you liking girls be a lot easier for them to grasp?”

She scoffed, “You’d think.” 

“Well, luckily, your parents are incredibly far away,” You assured her, “You don’t need to call them up right this minute and come out to them. You have all the time in the world, Lest. You don’t have to tell anybody until you’re ready. Other than me, obviously, sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, I wanted to tell you anyway,” Lest craned her neck to look up at you, “The only other gay girls I’m close with are Cait and Vi and they’re obnoxious.”

You laughed, swatting on on the shoulder, “Don’t be mean.”

“I love them, but it’s true,” She insisted with wide eyes.

“I know, I know,” You sighed thinking about Dysfunctional Lesbian 1 and 2.

Lest gasped, stilling in your arms, “You know what this means, right?”

“What?” You raised an eyebrow at her, tilting your chin to look at her face.

“Our friend group is very close to being made up entirely of couples ,” She gaped at you, mock horror in her eyes.

“Oh god , you’re right.” You cringed, “We’re really the worst, aren’t we.”

“Entirely insufferable,” She agreed seriously before the both of you dissolved into giggles, closer to each other than you had been in months.

Chapter Text

The days only got colder. Every morning Viktor could feel the pressure dropping. The ache in his joints forcing him to lie in bed just a little longer with each passing day. He knew he should be used to how the weather affected his body, yet still he was never really prepared for winter. In his defense, there really wasn’t much he could do aside from upping his meds and scheduling more frequent steroid injections. So, in the winter he suffered a little more than during the rest of the year, and vowed to move somewhere that would never drop below 7℃ as soon as he could. 

Viktor flexed his calf, testing his pain level before lifting it off of the pillow he kept under his knee while he slept. Luckily, not bad today. It was going to be a long one, and he was glad he had the foresight to take extra care yesterday. Using his sturdiest crutch, keeping himself hydrated on something other than coffee, and even making time to do the P.T. that he tends to let fall to the wayside. With a groan he sat up, pulling his legs into a butterfly position and leaning forward. The back of his hip gave a pop as he stretched and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Across the room, Rio was slithering up the side of her tank, bumping her nose against the glass. Viktor laughed softly as he finally stepped out of bed, slipping his glasses on before stretching his arms up over his head one last time.

“Dobré ráno, Rio,” He padded over to her tank, crouching down to look at her closer, “Nemáš hlad?”

After pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a -maybe clean- t shirt, Viktor made his way out to the kitchen. Cait and Vi were sitting at the kitchen bar, sharing a plate of eggs. Today's newspaper was opened in front of Cait, the comic page pulled and handed over to Vi. Jayce was leaning against the counter, arms crossed and eyes closed as he waited for coffee to finish brewing.

“Morning, V,” Jayce said, not opening his eyes.

“Morning,” Viktor snorted a laugh, “You good, man?”

“I have a paper due tonight, but I panicked and thought it was due this morning,” He dragged a hand down his face, “Didn’t finish until three this morning.” 

“That’s rough,” Viktor grimaced, “Are you going to be able to make it all night tonight?”

“Mel will kill me If I don’t,” She had easily convinced him to host a halloween party. It was most likely going to be the biggest party the Rune Street house had ever hosted, which was only slightly intimidating, “My afternoon class was canceled so the prof. could take his kids trick-or-treating. I’ll try to sleep a little bit before we start setting up.”

“Good plan,” Viktor agreed, opening up the fridge and pulling out the opaque container holding Rio’s defrosted breakfast.

“You’re still planning to be sober tonight, right?” Cait asked him, looking over the top of her newspaper. As the European roommates who had very little interest in Halloween, Cait and Viktor had offered to be the ones to stay sober during the party.

“Yeah,” Viktor nodded, opening up the container and double checking that the plastic bag holding the mouse was still sealed tightly. He turned on the tap, adjusting the temperature until it was suitable.

“Fucking gross,” Vi grimaced, catching sight of the rodent, “Do you have to do that in the kitchen?”

“Last time I checked, I pay rent and you do not,” Viktor raised an eyebrow at her, filling the container until the bagged mouse was submerged in warm water, “I’ll do whatever I’d like in my kitchen, thank you.”

Vi scowled at him, canting her voice up and mockingly repeated his words, “It’s still gross dude, it’s a dead animal.”

“Violet.” Viktor deadpanned, “What do you think a steak is? Hm? Is that not also a dead animal?”

“It’s different ,” She insisted, raising her shoulders, “Cait, tell him it’s different.”

“I mean, technically it’s not…” Cait pursed her lips, giving an apologetic look to her girlfriend.

Viktor gave her a triumphant little ‘hmph’ before turning around to make himself a cup of coffee. He pulled a mug out of the cabinet, handing one over to Jayce as well. Jayce took his black and Viktor took his ‘girly’ as Jayce liked to say. He didn’t care very much, he’d rather have caffeine that tasted like cinnamon and honey instead of a stale cigarette. When he was done making up his coffee, he set it to the side to finish preparing Rio’s meal.

He poured the water out, satisfied with the temperature of the mouse, and headed back to his room. Not before flicking a few drops of water off his hands towards Vi, making her yelp as hurried back to his door before she could come after him. He set his coffee to the side and began gathering what he needed to feed Rio. 

He opened the bag, doing his best to avoid breathing through his nose, and used a pair of tongs to place the little carcass into Rio’s tank. 

“Jedna myš, jen pro vás,” He muttered, bending over and watching as she began to find the right angle to pull the mouse into her mouth, “Ona tu dnes bude. Se tě pokusí navléknout do kostýmu. Bude smutná, že nemůže.” 

With Rio taken care of, Viktor began to get ready for class. Gathering his clothes and finishing his coffee quickly before getting into the shower. 

When Viktor walked into Heimerdinger’s classroom, early as usual, you were already there. He watched from the doorway for a moment, your head was resting against your folded arms on the table, hair spilling everywhere around you. He’d almost assume you had fallen asleep if it weren't for the way your fingers were tapping out a beat against the table. He sat down in his usual seat next to you and gently lifted a lock of your hair off of your eyes. You blinked up at him, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“Are you okay?” He asked gently, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Yeah,” You nodded, not moving as his fingers lingered near the side of your face, “Just tired.”

“Hm, you and Jayce both,” Viktor laughed softly, giving in to the urge and placing his hand on the back of your neck, warm from the hoodie you were wearing, “Weren’t you planning to party tonight? How will you do that if you are tired?”

“I don’t want to be tired,” You whined, a pout on your lips. Viktor swallowed hard, playing with the hair at the nape of your neck in an effort to stop thinking about your mouth, “I went to bed super early, but It just made me wake up super early.”

“Ah, I see.” Viktor nodded, leaning down to speak closer to your face, he dropped his voice, “If you’d like to ditch class, I can cover for you?”

You laughed, sitting up as Viktor’s hand fell away, “You’re sweet, but I think I’ll make it.” 

“If you change your mind let me know,” He shrugged, pulling his laptop out and opening it up, “I really don’t think Heimerdinger would care if you left in the middle of a lecture, even”

“You’re probably right,” You agreed, then move your chair closer to him, leaning your chin on his shoulder as he pulled up the class hub on his laptop, “I finished the lab notes by the way.”

“Hm, you were up early,” He scrolled through the finished notes shared between the four of you. He looked at you sideways, pleased with how close you were to him, “Very impressive.”

“You know it babe,” You smirked at him, “Happy halloween by the way. You excited for the party tonight?”

“Hm, happy halloween,” He fought back a smile as he decided to toy with you, “I am, I hear in America girls wear very little clothing for this holiday. I’ll never complain about that.”

You scoffed, sitting up and swatting at his arm as he laughed and tried to dodge you, “You are such a slut,” 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” He put his hands up in defense, “I’m kidding I swear. I actually care very little for the day.”

“That’s worse !” You insisted, gaping at him, “Halloweens like the best ever.”

“Oh is it?” He raised an eyebrow at you, leaning in with a smirk and putting on an exaggerated American girl accent, “Is it like the best ever ?”

“I do not sound like that,” You huffed, rolling your eyes and turning away from him, not far enough to hide the smile on your lips from him.

“No, of course you don’t,” He nodded with mock seriousness, leaning back in his chair and throwing his arm over the back of yours.

“Brat,” You muttered as you turned back to him, sitting sideways in your chair and running a finger over the seam on his sweater sleeve, “You’re gonna be there, though, right?”

Your hopeful tone made Viktor’s heart stutter, “Yes, of course. Someone has to make sure the house doesn’t burn down.”

“Booo, are you the sober one tonight?” You complained, pouting at him again.

“Me and Cait, yeah,” He told you, “We don’t really care about halloween, figured it made sense to let the people who do enjoy it more.”

“Two of you?” You raised an eyebrow, “Seems excessive.”

“Eh, Mel said there will probably be a lot more people than usual,” He shrugged, glancing up as a few other students shuffled into the room.

“Yeah, she’s probably right,” You agreed, thinking about past halloween parties you had been to, “Everyone shows up for halloween, even people who usually don’t go to parties. Have fun with that.”

“Ha, yeah, can’t wait,” Viktor rolled his eyes, grimacing slightly before nodding to your abandoned headphones on the table, “What were you listening to?”

“Oh, uh, nothing,” You laughed, red creeping up your cheeks as you tried to brush him off.

“Hm, well now you’ve made me much more curious,” He narrowed his eyes and leaned closer to you, “What were you listening to?”

“Really, you won’t like it,” You insisted, staring him down. In the end he won, making you groan as you gathered up your headphones, handing one over to him, “You won’t like it.”

He put one in his ear and waited, looking at you expectantly to play the music. You resisted for another moment before pressing play on your phone with a sigh. He bit back a surprised sound at the hyperpop music that began to play. Laughing at the first few dirty lyrics of the song.

“Hey, don’t be mean,” You frowned, pausing the music and holding out a hand for the headphone, “I’m tired and trying not to fall asleep.”

“Ah so slutty pop music is what gets you out of bed in the morning?” He teased, relinquishing the headphone back to you.

“Yes, matter of fact, it does,” You huffed, “I should have lied. Should have told you I was listening to Chopin or something.”

“Ah, Chopin doesn’t have quite the same beat,” He pointed out, then when you gave him another exaggerated frown, reached out and placed a cool hand on the back of your neck, squeezing reassuringly, “I’m only joking, milá. I enjoy your music taste, it’s fun,”

“I’m gonna force you to listen to the whole album,” You assured him, nodding seriously, “You’re gonna love Ayesha Erotica by the time I’m done with you.”

“Can’t wait,” He smirked casually, pretending like the idea of you forcing him to do something didn’t thrill him to his core.

As much as he wanted to cling to your side for the rest of the day, he encouraged you to go back to your dorm to sleep. On the slow elevator ride down, you leaned against his chest, eyes closed and breath so even he almost thought you fell asleep standing up. He was afraid to move, worried you’d move away from him. 

“You awake, Mila?” He asked you, smoothing a hand over your hair and glancing up at the floor counter slowly going down.

“Mhm” You hummed, nodding against his chest.

“You better sleep when you get back,” He laughed softly, kneading gently at your shoulder, “instead of sending me fifty instagram reels.” 

You snorted a laugh against his chest, “Hey, you love them.” You pulled away from him as the elevator came to a stop, stepping back fully when the doors slid open. 

As he watched you trudge back towards your own room, Jinx sidled up next to him. She wrapped a lanky arm around his back, pinning his arms to his side. 

“So, tell me, Vicky,” Jinx drawled, holding on tight to his arm as they walked out of the building. Ekko stood slightly behind them, shaking his head. 

“Don’t call me that,” Viktor said instantly, wrinkling his nose at the nickname.

“Are you and her, like, secretly married or something?” She asked bluntly, raising an eyebrow at him

“What? No, you’re ridiculous Jinx, what are you even talking about?” He stumbled through his words, grip tightening on his cane as he tried to break away from her.

“No way, buddy,” Jinx tsked, tightening her grip on his arm, “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“I told her not to do this,” Ekko jumped in apologetically from behind it.

“Oh, puh-lease, ” Jinx rolled her eyes at her boyfriend, “You want to know just as much as me.”

“There is nothing to know!” Viktor insisted, not meeting Jinx’s eyes, “We are friends . That is all.”

“Is there a different definition of ‘friends’ in Europe or something?” Jinx scoffed, “Because here in America we don’t stare at our friends like we want to fuck them stupid.”

“Ježiši!” Viktor choked out, glancing around nervously at the other students traveling between buildings, “I am not. You are the one with explicit thoughts, clearly. ”

“Ok, sure sure,” Jinx nodded, side eyeing him and ignoring the people her shoulder bumps into as she walks, “I mean, I would assume it was just you, but she’s alway looking at you the same way. Those big doe eyes staring up at you, always so close, always touching you. Jeez, I mean, me and Ekko are the ones dating, we should be the gross ones and yet you two can’t keep your angsty puppy love to yourselves.”

“Jinx, we are just friends, ” Viktor insisted once again, “Don’t you have class, get away from me.”

“I’m just saying,” Jinx shrugged, “If everyone treated their friends the way you two treat each other, the world would be a much stickier place.”

Ekko muttered a disapproving gross under his breath as she finally set Viktor free. Her giggle at the look on Viktor’s face was nearly maniacal.

While Viktor didn’t relate to the excitement surrounding Halloween, he certainly wasn’t going to rain on anyone else’s parade. He had been shut up in his room doing homework when you arrived at the house with the rest of the girls. Regretfully missing his chance to give you a lingering hello, not realizing you had shown up until he heard your voice traveling through the vents from Cait’s room to his. He was unable to make out words but the tone of your voice as you chattered away with Mel was clear. He leaned his head on his hand, surely looking like a wistful idiot as he clung to the bare threads of your voice. He was almost grateful when someone turned on music upstairs, the pop songs instantly covering up your voice. He had actually hoped to get some of his homework done.

Eventually, as the sun finally dipped below the horizon, a gentle knock on his door pulled him away from the textbook.

“Come in,” He called absentmindedly, not turning his desk chair as he stretched his leg out in front of him, his knee giving a loud pop .

“Why’re you hiding?” You asked from the doorway.

He spun in his chair, finding you half in the doorway. His eyebrows raised at the sight of your makeup, face painted in a soft layer of white with colorful shapes drawn under and above your eyes, bright lipstick extending slightly past the corners of your mouth, and the tip of your nose a sharp red.

“I’m not hiding,” He shook his head, and then, “Are you a clown?”

You laughed, stepping fully into his room to show off the white button up with puffy sleeves  “I’m pretty funny , get it?”

“That is very cute,” Viktor laughed softly, standing up as you walked further into his room.

“Glad you think so,” You smiled, “Can I say hi to Rio?”

“Of course, she ate this morning, so she might be hiding,” Viktor told you as you walked up to her tank, peering in as you searched for her.

“Man, and I was gonna convince you to let me dress her up,” You said, only half joking, giving the snake a silent wave when you found her curled up in the corner.

“Next year,” He told you, resisting the urge to reach out.

“Definitely,” You nodded, then turned to him, tilting your head with a slight frown on your painted lips, “Why aren’t you dressed yet?”

“Eh, I’m not wearing a costume,” He shrugged.

“What! No, that's so lame.” You gasped, eyes wide, “You have to!”

“Why would I? I don’t celebrate Halloween,” Viktor laughed at your dramatic reaction.

“Neither does Cait, but she dressed up,” You pointed out, crossing your arms and pouting at him.

“She dressed up for Vi,” He added, avoiding looking at your mouth per usual.

“And you won’t dress up for me?” There was the killshot. 

“I would, but it’s too late,” He shrugged, trying to resist, “I don’t have anything to wear.”

You hummed, thinking for a moment before cast a hopeful smile at him, “Would you be pretty funny with me?”

“What?” He let out a nervous laugh.

“Let me do your makeup,” You got closer to him, looking up at him with big eyes framed by extra dark lashes as you practically beg, “Please,Vik, please .”

He swallowed hard, then nodded with a sigh, “Yes, mila, whatever you want.”

“Yay! Good!” You practically jumped, grabbing his wrist, and beaming up at him, “You find a white button up and some jeans. Oh, get that shirt you wore when we went to the orchestra, with the detailing on the front! I’ll be right back.” 

You darted out of his room, leaving him with instructions. He dropped his face into his hands and groaned. If he was an immovable object, you were the one unstoppable force that he’d always shatter for. He did as you asked, changing into a pair of jeans and the shirt you chose for him. He knew which one you were talking about. You had complimented it the first time he wore it, smoothed your fingers over the embroidery on the front in a way that sent sparks across his skin.

You returned with a plastic pencil case, shutting the door behind you as you approached him, “Take off the shirt, I don't want to get makeup all over it.”

“Oh, uh, okay,” Viktor nodded, hesitating for a moment before unbuttoning the shirt and slipping it off his shoulders. He hung it on the back of his chair before turning black to you.

You sat on the edge of his bed, patting the spot next to you expectantly. He sat awkwardly, unsure of how you wanted him and hyper aware of the fact that he wasn’t wearing a shirt. 

“Face me,” You told him, opening up your little case to reveal loose makeup products and tools, “Like this.”

You gently guided him to sit with one leg up on the bed, his other leg hanging off, and his torso squared to you. You settled onto your knees, pulling out a couple of plastic butterfly clips and using them to pin his hair away from his face. You leaned in close, face taking up his entire view as you smoothed your fingers over his skin. Viktor suddenly became very self conscious about every mark that may be on his skin. He felt heat rise to his cheeks, breathing slowly through his nose as you watched you study him.

“You have nice skin,” You told him like you could read his mind, point of your thumb swiping over the beauty mark under his eye. 

You leaned back, pulling out a tiny bottle and pumping a clear gooey substance onto the back of your hand. Viktor raised an eyebrow, flinching back slightly when you dabbed some up and went to put it on his face.

“Easy, it’s just primer,” You laughed, “It’s basically nothing, it’ll just keep the makeup from coming off too much. Can I put it on?”

“Yes,” He nodded, going back to watching your face as you rubbed the primer into his skin.

“Did you get any sleep this morning?” He asked you, trying to relax, “After class, I mean.”

“Yes, I’m so glad I took a nap,” You groaned, “I don’t think I’d make it tonight if I didn’t.”

“Good, I’m glad,” He closed his eyes as you brushed your fingers underneath.

“I’m gonna make your face like 3 shades lighter,” You told him, tossing the first bottle into the case and pulling out another, along with a little foam triangle, “Is that okay?”

“Yes, you don’t have to ask,” He scoffed a soft laugh, “Do whatever you’d like with me.”

“Oh, well,” You dropped your voice, leaning in closer to his ear, “Don’t tell me that. You never know what might happen.”

Viktor stiffened, red chasing up his neck and across his bare chest. You giggled at his reaction, leaning back and pouring the pale foundation onto the back of your hand. 

“You are in quite the mood today, aren’t you,” He laughed nervously, flinching when you placed the first dab of makeup, “Hm, cold.”

“Sorry,” You replied to both statements, focused on his face as you covered his blush, laughing softly, “I’m just excited, didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

“No, by all means,” His words muffled by your hand holding his jaw, “Take it out on me.”

“You’re not supposed to encourage me,” You joked, rolling your eyes, “Then I’ll never get this done.” He held his hands up in defense, a silent promise to stay quiet as you work.

You shifted awkwardly on your knees next to him. He could tell you were trying not to ask him to move very much, always cautious about his leg. Your hand on his jaw was soft, guiding his head instead of pulling him around. He wouldn’t have minded, he’d live to be yanked around by you. You adjusted again with a slight frown on your lips as you tried to get a good angle to draw the designs on his face. Nothing was working. Eventually you huffed and pulled away from him. Recapping the eyeliner pen in your hand and standing up off the bed. He looked up at you with a puzzled look.

“Sit back against the headboard for me,” You told him, he didn’t hesitate to move backwards on his bed, wiggling until he was sat where you wanted him.

“Here?” He asked, trying to keep his voice even as he realized what you were about to do.

“Perfect,” You nodded, reaching over and grabbing your makeup case. You set it on the bedside table, and then braced a knee on the bed before swinging your other leg over him. You held yourself up on your knees for a moment, hands on his shoulders. Instinctually his hands went to your hips, steadying you above him. He swallowed hard, staring up at you with a look he knew probably looked stupid, “Is this okay?”

“Ye-yeah, this is fine,” He nodded, clearing his throat, “You can, uh, you can sit down. If you want, it’s fine.”

You settled into his lap, “Tell me if your hip hurts, okay?”

He nodded slowly, hands still on your hips. He gave a reassuring squeeze. You pulled the eyeliner back out, uncapping it and leaning in closer to his face. You placed a hand on his chin, titling his face slightly to the side as you began to work again, clearly more satisfied with this angle.

He watched your face. It was incredible, how enamored he was with you even when you were wearing clown makeup . They way your pupils constricted as you focused on him, dark eyelashes framing perfectly when you’d narrow your eyes slightly. He’d notice when you’d catch the tip of your tongue between your teeth for a moment or you’d pull your hand away quickly if it began to shake. The perfume you were wearing was overwhelming him, fruity and warm and very much you. The same perfume you had left on his bed so many months ago. He was glad you were holding him by the face, it made the urge to shove his face into your neck and breath easier to resist.

When you were finished with the outlines, you sat back and studied him, giving a satisfied little hmph and a pretty smile. You leaned over to the table, lifting your hips off of him for a moment, as you picked out a palette of powdery colors and a brush. When you sat back down, the pressure sent a shock up his spine. 

“Hm, what color do you want?” You weren’t paying attention as you wiggled to adjust yourself, absentmindedly grinding down against him as you asked him questions about color.

His hands landed heavily on your bare thighs. He was holding you still as he closed his eyes and leaned his head back, breathing slowly as he fought against his body, “Please stop moving,” His voice came out breathy and strained.

“Oh,” You gasped, freezing, “Sorry, sorry.” 

“Thank you,” He breathed out, staring up at the ceiling as he tried to catch his breath. 

“Just to be clear,” You said, tilting your head and biting back a smirk. You pressed your hips down, giving the smallest roll that still made him gasp, “You mean moving like this…right?”

“Fuck,” He gasped, head falling back, he groaned your name, “Please don’t”

“Don’t what?” You asked, leaning forward, lips ghosting against his ear as you rocked your hips forward again. You placed a hand over his resting on your thigh, “Stop me if you want.”

A moan fell past his lips as you began to grind down against him, his hands on your thighs neither encouraging or stopping you. You moved one hand to the back of his neck, the other on his waist to steady yourself. Your fingers were cool against his overheated skin. He was half hard, eyes half shut as he looked up at you. The two layers of denim between your heat and his left you unsatisfied, but the dazed look he was sporting made it worth it. 

He groaned, cursing and gripping your hips. Stopping your motion as his forehead tipped against yours, he looked through his lashes at you, pleading, “Don’t make me cum like this, I’m begging you.”

“That’s a fair request,” You nodded, moving backwards just enough to relieve the pressure on his dick. You picked up the palate you had set to the side, popping open the lid and holding it out like you hadn’t just been dry humping him, “Which color? Not red.”

He gaped at you, never prepared for the way you’d switch up on him. He grabbed you by the back of the neck, jolting forward as he pulled you into a kiss. He took the surprised gasp that parted your lips as an opportunity to taste you, tongue slipping against yours with a satisfied hum. You kissed him back once…twice, before pulling away with a gasp. A hand on his chest forcing him away.

“ Viktor ,” You scolded, panting softly and frowning at him, “What was that?”

“What?” He scoffed, leaning back and smirking at you, “You can ride me through my jeans, but I can’t give you a friendly kiss, that’s not fair.”

“Not when it’s gonna ruin my makeup,” You pouted, a look he wanted to respond to with another kiss.

“Your makeup is fine, mila,” He grabbed his phone from the table and opened the camera, taking a photo of your perfectly unamused face, though you were clearly trying to bite back a smile, he held the photo out to you, “See you look perfect.”

“ Hmpf, let me finish, will you?” You rolled your eyes, your blush only visible on the tips of your ears, “Pick a color?”

“Blue,” He told you, smiling as you thanked him dramatically and dipped the brush in the powder, “Brat.”

“Brat.” You both muttered at the same time. You gasped at him, laughing as you swatted him in the chest, “Be nice.”

“Okay, okay.” He succumbed, laughing and holding his hands up in defeat. He leaned back, settling his hands back onto your hips and letting you fill in the shapes on his face “I’ll behave.”

“You better,” You said, leaning in to finish his makeup. Your irritation as false as your eyelashes.

“Can I put mascara on you?” You asked, a hopeful edge to your voice, “I think I’m done, but mascara will really finish it off.”

“Don’t blind me,” He answered, giving a warning squeeze to your hips.

“I would never,” You gasped playfully, pulling the tube of mascara out from the bend of your knee, “I like your eyes too much.”

“Was that there the whole time?” Viktor laughed, watching as you unscrewed the cap.

“I put it there earlier,” You shrugged, pulling out the wand, scraping the excess makeup on the edge of the tube, “I wasn’t sure if you’d let me, but just in case. It’s easier to use when it’s warm.” You scoffed a laugh, “Normally I’d stick it in my bra, but that felt a bit forward.”

“Is that a girl thing or a you thing?” He asked you curiously.

“A girl thing for sure,” You assured him, then pressed your thumb above his eye, pulling up gently, “Look down, don’t flinch.”

“Women are so innovative,” He muttered, doing his best not to flinch, “Who taught you how to do that?”

“An older girl at school,” You told him, voice slow as you focused on swiping the makeup on his eyelashes, “Saw her pull her mascara out of her bra in the bathroom during passing period, I’ve done it every day since.”

“Hm, I’m sure there is a very interesting anthropological study that could be done there,” Viktor mused, “Do you walk around with mascara in your bra all the time?”

You laughed, “No, I don’t really touch up my makeup often when I’m not at home. In the morning I stick it in there to warm up while I do the rest of my makeup. That’s if I decide to wear makeup.”

“Do you not wear makeup everyday?” He asked as you released him and switched over to the other eye.

“No, of course not,” You shook your head, sitting back to push the wand into the tube again, “I used to until like halfway through sophomore year. I genuinely can not be bothered anymore.”

“Hm, I thought you wore makeup everyday,” He said, partially to himself.

You finished up with the mascara, pulling it away before giving him a pointed look, “Nah I’m just, like, incredibly gorgeous naturally,” You’re tone was joking as you said it, rolling your eyes as if the statement was ridiculous.

‘You are,’ He thought to himself, ‘God, you are, you are, you are.’

Before he could gush his adoration to you, you sat back, humming to yourself as you looked him over. You tapped the closed tube of mascara against your chin as you thought. He raised an eyebrow, but before he could ask, you gasped, eyes widening as you came to some realization.

“That’s what it is,” You muttered to yourself, dropping the tube into your makeup box and pulling out an eyeliner pencil, then to him, “Wanna see another girl trick?”

He nodded, watching as you pulled a tiny lighter out of the case. You sparked it on, holding the flame below the tip of the pencil until it began to turn shiny as it melted.You gripped his face again, tilting his head to the side and pressing the tip of the pencil to a spot just above his lip. You repeated the motion on the other side of his face, this time just under his eye. His moles, he realized, you were marking where they were beneath the layers of makeup.

You leaned back then nodded firmly, “Perfect,” You slid off his lap, leaving him feeling too light without your weight on him. You grabbed his hand. Urging him to stand up, “Come look at it.”

He took up his cane, following you to his bathroom. You flicked on the light, and pulled him inside with you, looping an arm around his waist, hand warm against his bare skin.

“Like it?” You asked him, looking at him expectantly in the mirror.

“Very much,” He nodded, leaning in to inspect the makeup, “It’s cool.”

“Yay!” You giggled, bumping your head against the side of his arm, “I like it, thanks for matching with me.”

“Thank you for asking me to,” He moved a hand to the back of your neck, squeezing gently.

You beamed up at him, then patted his hip, “Get dressed, everyone will be here soon.”

There was a point in the night when the amount of people leaving began to outnumber those arriving. This was when Viktor could finally breathe. He hadn’t really believed his housemates when they said just how crowded it would be. He was sorely proven wrong. It felt like every student at Piltover decided to walk through his front door (and then into the backyard where he was keeping watch). So far he had had to ask some girls to stop putting cigarettes out on the side of the house, at least two couples to go home if they wanted to fuck, and a group of guys to please not run at eachother full speed to see if it will hurt, their renters insurance wouldn’t cover it.

He stationed himself in a chair on the deck, chain smoking and twisting a rubik's cube in his hand as he kept an eye on everyone. It wasn’t until he realized that he had smoked half his pack of Marlboro Reds that he decided to stop. Opting instead to wander out to the shed in hopes of finding someone he actually knew to talk to. He was pleased to find Jayce sitting in one of the beat up arm chairs, a roach smoldering between his fingers. 

“Viktor!” He practically cooed, the slur of his voice making his accent more prominent. He had abandoned his pinstripe suit coat and opened some of the buttons on his vest, becoming a very messy looking Gomez Adams, “Where have you been?”

“Making sure the house doesn’t set ablaze,” He joked, awkwardly stepping around a circle of kids passing around a bong as he tried to get to the couch, “I’ve decided that I will be out of town for this party next year.”

“Hey, you volunteered,” Jayce raised his hands in a shrug, “Next year we’ll draw straws.”

“Maybe, there are still too many people here,” Viktor grimaced, “I don’t think I’d enjoy it even drunk.”

“Awe, c’mon, you’re not even having a little bit of a good time?” Jayce pouted, then raised a sly eyebrow at Viktor, “Have you seen Sky tonight? Dressed as Strawberry Shortcake or something, wearing a pretty small skirt and - respectfully - looks very good.”

“I’m telling Mel you said that,” Viktor scoffed, trying to deflect, “Where is she anyway?”

“You’re deflecting,” Even fucked up he could read Viktor like a book, “C’mon man, she likes you. She’s pretty and smart, and apparently not drinking tonight, so like, there wouldn’t be anything wrong if you wanted to fu-”

“Jayce! Ježiši, have some fucking decorum, will you?” Viktor cut him off, feeling himself redden beneath layers of makeup, “I don’t remember you being such a prick when you’re drunk. It’s that creepy ass pencil mustache. You need to shave that immediately.”

“I am not, and don’t blame the ‘stache, it’s temporary” Jayce shrugged, going to hit the joint again and pouting when he realized it was gone, “You’ve been tense lately, I’m just trying to encourage you to get some of that strawberry.”

“She’s Orange Blossom,” Viktor deadpanned, “Lest is Strawberry Shortcake, Sky is Orange Blossom.”

“Well, excuse me for mixing up my girlie 90’s cartoon characters,” Jayce scoffed, leaning forward in his chair and starting the process of rolling another joint.

“She’s literally in an orange dress - no, nevermind,” He cut himself off, shaking his head, “It doesn't matter. I’m not sleeping with Sky. She’s a friend, that’s it. I don’t like her like that.”

“Okay, so you’re not denying that you're sexually frustrated,” Jayce said, words half muffled as he licked the rolling paper.

“Yes, I am. No, I mean, I am not.” Viktor huffed, squinting his eyes closed and drawing a deep breath, “Yes I am denying that I am frustrated.”

“Nah man, I don’t believe you,” Jayce shook his head, bringing the joint up to his lips, “You told me you’d hook up with someone different every weekend in Prague. You haven’t spent a single night somewhere else and I’ve never seen you take anyone we don’t know into your room. Fuck, I mean, It’s been literally months since the last time you even had hickeys. Have you even kissed anyone since then? What, are you hung up on someone or something?”

“Jayce, my sex life is none of your business,” Viktor gaped, regretting his decision to come into the shed. He wished Mel was here. She did the talking when they drank, Jayce just stared at her like a puppy.

“I’m sorry man,” Jayce shrugged, clearly not sorry. Viktor instantly regretted his wish for Mel to be present, as she pushed open the door in the middle of Jayce’s sentence, “I just think everyone would be better off if you got your dick wet once in a while.”

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” Viktor seethed, eyes wide as he recognized your voice right behind Mel.

“Woah, what’s going on here?” Mel laughed, raising an eyebrow at Viktor’s awkward panic and Jayce’s unmatching nonchalance, you mimicked the look over her shoulder, “What’re you talking about?”

“V’s se-”

“Nothing!” Viktor shouted over Jayce, grabbing a raggedy throw pillow off the couch and whipping it at Jayce’s head.

“Oh, uh, okay,” Mel laughed awkwardly, exchanging a glance with you.

“Hey,” Viktor tried, voice cracking, he cleared his throat, “Hello, uh, where have you two been.”

“Hello Viktor,” Mel said slowly, raising an eyebrow at him as she walked over to Jayce, she handed him a water bottle, “I was just getting water, ran into little miss Pretty Funny over here on my way out.”

Mel settled into Jayce’s lap, adjusting her long black dress before taking the joint from him. She completed Jayce’s look, turning him from a creep in a pinstripe suit to a devoted husband. The perfect Mr. and Mrs. Addams. You sat in the space next to Viktor, sitting closer than you normally would in front of other people.

“Hey,” He said to you, hoping he didn’t look as panicked as he felt.

“Hi,” You laughed softly, with perfect makeup and glassy eyes, “Are you okay?”

“Eh, yeah,” He nodded too quickly, “all good. How are you?”

“So very drunk,” You giggled, sinking back into the couch. You leaned your head against the side of his arm, looking up at him through your lashes.

“How many have you had?” He asked, worry creeping into his head.

“I lost count,” You shrugged, “too many drinks and at least half a joint.”

“That’s not good,” He frowned, “Do you feel okay? Maybe you should stop?”

“I’m okay,” You blinked up at him, “Better now, it’s too loud inside. Can I stay out here?”

Viktor laughed softly, you were more drunk than he had realized, “Yes, of course, Mila, you can be wherever you want to be.”

“Good,” You nodded, then slid your hand down his arm, fingers tracing shapes on the inside of his wrist. 

‘Everyone is here,’ He told himself, ‘Hold it together.’

“How has your night been?” You asked him.

“Weird,” He admitted, “There’s so many people here.”

“Yeah, I feel like I’m getting too old for this,” You tone was half joking, “Was it making you anxious?”

“Mm, no,” He shook his head, “Why do you ask?”

“You’ve been chain smoking,” You sniffed at the sleeve of his shirt, “You normally don’t,”

“Sorry, yeah, I know,” He winced, trying to move away from you, “I probably smell like an ashtray, I can change.”

“No, it’s okay,” You shook your head, grip tightening to keep him next to you, “I don’t mind, can I have one?”

“Eh…no,” He shook his head, giving you an apologetic smile, “Maybe let’s come down from the other substances before adding a new one, yeah?”

“So practical,” You gave a dramatic and wistful sigh, but didn’t fight him on it.

“Here, want this?” He asked, picking up the rubik's cube from where he had set it next to him. You nodded, taking it from him. He watched you fondly as you twisted it around, trying to figure out the puzzle in your drunken haze. Chewing on your bottom lip as you focus.

“Viktor?” Mel called his attention, the overly curious tone of her voice making him wary.

“Yes, Mel?” Viktor responded carefully, raising a questioning eyebrow at her.

She shifted in Jayce’s lap, watching Viktor like prey as she placed her hands on her knees, “When was the last time you went on a date?”

Viktor sighed, giving an unamused look to Jayce, “Why do you ask?”

“Just wondering. Has it been so long that you don’t even remember?” Mel was good at asking leading questions with a straight face, she was going to make an incredibly terrifying politician one day.

“No, I remember,” Viktor assured her, though it was a faint memory, “It was boring and I didn’t see them again.”

“So you don’t like going on dates?” She asked.

“No, I actually quite enjoy taking people out,” Viktor admitted, “I just didn’t like this person very much.”

“Well, why haven't you been on a date this semester then?” She tilted her head. Jayce must tell her every single thing he knows, “Is no one of interest to you? I know plenty of amazing girls…or boys if that’s what you’d prefer right now? I could set you up with someone?”

“Mel, I would hate nothing more,” Viktor deadpanned, giving her a tight smile. He was praying to whatever god existed that you were too drunk to tune into this conversation. A glance down assured you were at the very least pretending not to overhear as you played with the rubik's cube.

“C’mon, V,” Jayce groaned, “You won’t even try it? You said you're not into Sky, so what’s the problem?”

Mel didn’t react to this, she knew already of course.

“Fuck, because I’m interested in someone else, okay?” Viktor snapped, glaring at them before pulling his cigarettes back out of his pocket, “So no Mel, I wouldn’t like you to set me up with anyone. I appreciate you wanting to help, but I am managing fine on my own.”

“Who?” Mel asked, tilting her head as he sparked up.

Viktor groaned around the cigarette in his mouth, leaning his head back and digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. 

He felt your hand hit him in the thigh, scolding gently, “Don’t, you’ll ruin your makeup.”

He peeked down at you, blinking as he pulled his hands away from his face. You were still looking down, the rubik's cube clinking in your hand. Of course you heard everything. 

“Hey, uh, Mel, maybe ease off a little bit?” Jayce said, catching the pleading look Viktor threw to him, “Your drunk,”

Mel frequently lost her ability to know when she had gone far enough whenever she drank. Grilling her friends wasn’t abnormal, but Viktor didn’t have the pleasant feeling of drugs or alcohol as a buffer. He felt every question with full force and hated it.

She huffed, shaking her head and relaxing back into Jayce and rubbing a hand against her forehead as Jayce made her realize what she was doing, “You're right, sorry. I’m sorry Viktor. You should really ask out whoever you're interested in, by the way, I’m sure they’d say yes.”

“You’d think,” He scoffed, feeling you tense up next to him before he knew what he was saying. Your hands still for a fraction of a second before continuing.

Before either of his friends could react to his own reaction, the door to the garage opened, a new group of people bustling in out of the cold. People Jayce knew were given by the way they greeted him, dropping themselves into the open spaces in the room. The only teammate of Jayce’s that Viktor was familiar with was Stebb. They took statistics together. He knew you knew him as well, both of you studying marine biology. 

“Hi Stebb!” You gave him a bubbly greeting, hooking your arm around his and leaning into his side when he sat next to you, “What’re you dressed as?”

“Hey,” He signed to you, then shook his head, “I’m not anything.”

“No way, dude. That’s so lame,” You pouted at him, then gestured to Viktor, “Even Vik dressed up.”

He signed to you, “What are you?”

“We’re Pretty Funny ,” You giggled, enjoying your pun that much more while intoxicated, “Get it.”

Stebb raised an eyebrow at Viktor.

“Eh, she’s very convincing,” Viktor shrugged, Stebb just rolled his eyes.

“Did you finish the paper?” You asked him, leaning your head back against the couch and frowning.

‘No,” He signed, matching the look on your face, “You?”

“Nope, gonna work on it Sunday.” You told him.

“Cutting it close,” He scoffed, “How much do you have done?”

“I only have a couple pages left to write,” You shrugged, “I was gonna finish it in the library on Sunday if you want to come.”

He nodded and bumped your shoulder, “Can we get thai?”

“Only if you drive.” You insisted, raising an eyebrow at him. He rolled his eyes, but signed, “Fine,” anyways.

You leaned away from Viktor, getting closer to Stebb as he showed you something on his phone screen. You gasped, bumping your head against his shoulder as you giggled at something he was showing you. The side of Viktor’s arm was left cold as you retreated. 

His gaze lingered until the ash from his cigarette grew too heavy and dropped onto his jeans.

He cursed and brushed it away, glancing up to see if anyone had noticed. Luckily Mel and Jayce were in their own little world as usual, faces close together as they whispered to each other. The pair had very different opinions of PDA, and usually Mel’s distaste for it won out against Jayce’s desire to be touching her constantly. When substances were introduced into the equation, that all changed. It was like Mel couldn’t get close enough to him, all her public posturing falling away. It was sweet and gross. Viktor wasn’t an envious person, especially of his friends' relationships, but right now he wanted nothing more than for you to be sitting in his lap. To feel the weight of you against him, your arms around his neck, your hands in his hair, lips against his ear. Instead he was bitterly smoking a cigarette that had gotten too hot and you were shoulder to shoulder with another man. 

It made sense. Stebb was great. Handsome and kind and shared many of the same interests as you. You had told Viktor that you and him had become friends during summer research, anytime that you weren’t home with Jayce had been spent in the company of Stebb. At first the only solace for him was the fact that you also had a class with Stebb. Eventually he began to wonder if maybe you treated Stebb the same way you treated him. Lingering eyes, teasing words, gentle touches when no one was looking. Maybe you had promised Stebb the same thing, a date after the last day of classes. 

Viktor thought about you and Stebb. About your shared love of the ocean, about the scientific endeavors that the two of you would take on together. About all the opportunities that Stebb had to offer to you. Bitter acid filled his brain, slowly dissolving any confidence he had about your feelings for him until Jayce’s voice pulled him from the fog.

“Viktor?!” They way Jacye said his name made it clear it wasn’t the first time.

Viktor shook his head, blinking as he came to, “Sorry, what?” He leaned forward, stubbing out the cigarette and dropping it into an ashtray. 

“I was asking if Cait was doing okay in the house,” Jayce said, raising an eyebrow at him, “but, are you good, man? You look…distressed.”

“Sorry, I’m fine,” Viktor cleared his throat, laughing awkwardly, “Just, uh, getting a contact high, probably. Cait was good last time I saw her, she’ll text me if she needs to.”

Jayce pursed his lips at the lie but, to Viktor’s relief, didn’t push. Instead he asked Viktor about some concept that was far more interesting to his high brain than to Viktor’s sober one. He was grateful for the distraction, though, pleased for the opportunity to think about something else for a while. He lit another cigarette and indulged Jayce, talking to him about hypotheticals and theories that they had previously spoken of. Wild fantasies of science that Jayce tended to keep between him and Viktor spoken freely in the smoke filled shed. 

Viktor began to relax, eventually believing that he was in fact getting contact high. It was nice, just a tiny shimmer skimming across his body. Not enough to disrupt his job if he needed to handle something, just enough to make it easier for him to distract himself. That was until you were saying goodbye to Stebb.

“I’ll see you Sunday!” You beamed up at him as he stood, straightening his couch wrinkled clothes, “Be safe!”

You giggled as he rolled his eyes but gave you a thumbs up anyways. His shoulder still shook with laughter as he left the shed. Next to Viktor, you pulled your knees back up to your chest, looking back over at him for attention. He resisted, continuing his conversation with Jayce and pretending he couldn’t feel your eyes on him. He heard the little ‘hmph’ that left your throat when he didn’t acknowledge you. You didn’t vie, though. Instead you pulled out your own phone, scrolling through apps without really thinking about them. 

Viktor didn’t notice that another person had taken up a spot next to you until you began coughing. He turned to find you gasping and coughing into the top of your knees, handing a pen back to a guy sitting next to you. You face hidden as strawberry scented vapor spilled out of your nose and mouth,

“Hey, no, she’s cut off,” Viktor snapped, looping an arm around your back, instinctually warding off the boy he didn’t recognize dressed as Patrick Bateman. He glared at him until he rolled his eyes and stood up.

“Sorry man, thought she was single,” Patrick Bateman shrugged, taking himself and his pen out of the shed. 

“She’s not my- nevermind,” Viktor shook his head, dropping his defense before turning to you, “I thought you were done? What was that?”

“I don’t know, man,” You shrugged, pulling your face out of your knees and carefully wiping tears out of your waterline, “I’m drunk, I can’t help it.” 

“You’re the worst,” Viktor scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, but you stick around anyways,” You widened your eyes in a teasing look up at him. 

“Yeah, who else will?” Viktor joked back, his tone light as he playfully shoved you away, your offended gasp making him laugh.

“What ever ,” You scoffed, then stretched your legs out in front of you searching for a new way to be on the couch.

You landed on resting your head in Viktor’s lap, head against his thigh and ankles crossed over the armrest. He swallowed hard, staring down at you as you gave him a questioning look.

“Is this okay?” You asked, clearly ready to move if it wasn’t.

“No, you’re good,” He nodded, taking a deep breath and trying to relax back. Unsure of where to put his hand he settled with laying it across the back of the couch, unsure if you wanted him to touch you or not.

Your hair spilled over his thigh, shifting slightly as you settled in. Holding your phone above your face as you scrolled. You spoke without looking away from your screen, “Stebb’s cool, right? A shame he had to leave already.”

“Eh, yeah, a shame,” Viktor lied, trying not to tense up.

“Yeah,” You caught his eye over the edge of your phone, “His boyfriend is just so needy.”

Oh . Viktor let an embarrassed laugh slip past his lips. The pointed look you gave him made it clear you knew at least some of what he was thinking earlier, “I’m a dick.”

“Yup,” You agreed, pursing your lips and nodding, “Just a little.”

He let out a laugh that was more like a groan, going to rub his hand down his face before catching himself and opting to tug at his hair instead. When he looked down you were looking back at your phone, the tiniest satisfied smirk tugging at your lips. He turned back to Jayce, content with the feeling of your head in his lap. He focused better, felt better, when he was speaking to Jayce. Even going as far as to write down a few notes in his phone to think about later. Every so often you’d get his attention to show him something you thought he’d like. A few trains, some snakes, and some general engineering videos that had all ended up in your feed. At some point the hand opposite of where you were laying ended up in your hair. He gently combed through the strands, fingers brushing idly against your hairline as he chatted with the others. 

When someone opened the shed door, holding it long enough for a heavy gust of cold air to blow inside, you shivered. Turning from your back to your side, you pulled your bare knees in, complaining quietly at the temperature. Without a second thought Viktor leaned forward slightly, earning a confused look from you for a moment as he shrugged off his coat. Then he draped it over you, wordlessly covering your bare legs with his jacket. Hand coming to rest on the curve of your waist as he continued speaking to Jayce and Mel. 

“Oh, no fucking way,” Jayce muttered, narrowing his eyes at Viktor.

“What?” Viktor raised an eyebrow at him, not moving his hand from where it was on you.

“Are you serious?”Jayce glanced between Viktor and you in his lap.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Viktor shrugged, jumping back into the conversation they had been having, “Anyways…”

When the party official began to die, Viktor quickly realized you were in no shape to go anywhere by yourself. Apparently Lest had headed out with Sky fairly early into the party, disappearing after you said you’d be okay to get home on your own. That was before you lost count of how much you were drinking. 

“I can get an Uber,” You insisted, following Viktor through the yard on wobbly legs. 

“Yeah, and who will get you from the Uber into your dorm?” Viktor scoffed, “Besides, I’m not leaving you alone like this with a stranger, no way.”

“Hey, I can take care of myself,” You defended, but the way you tripped up the steps of the porch said otherwise.

“Yes, of course you can,” Viktor caught you by the arm, bracing his cane against the deck to keep both of you from toppling over, “on any other night,”

“Vik-” You whined before he cut you off, hands cupping your cheeks and face close to yours.

“I will drive you home,” He said slowly with wide eyes, “Just let me help Cait clean up a little, okay? Can you wait twenty minutes?”

You nodded slowly, mirroring his wide eyed look.

“Good. Now come,” He ushered you into the house, kicking a discarded can out of the way. 

He walked with a hand hovering near your waist, ready to at least attempt to catch you were you to tip over. When he reached his door, he had to shoo away a couple of stragglers too drunk to realize it was time to go home. You leaned against the wall as he fished his key out of his pocket, eyes closed and breathing slowly through your nose. Inside his room he set you on the edge of his bed, flinching at the whimper you let out when he turned on the light.

“Sorry,” He hissed, moving to replace the overhead light with a softer lamp on his desk. He grabbed his water bottle from his nightstand, twisting it open and handing it to you, “Here, drink slow, okay?”

You nodded, eyes still closed as you sipped.

“How do you feel?” He asked, when you responded with a weak groan, he dragged his trash can from his desk to the foot of the bed, “Here, I believe in your ability to not throw up on my floor.” 

You gave a weak laugh and a thumbs up as you handed the water bottle back to him. He capped it and laid it on the bed next to you.

 “I’ll be back soon,” He said, retreating back to his door, “I’m going to lock the door so no one bothers you, okay?”

Viktor  laughed softly as you dropped back onto his bed and stuck your arm up to give another thumbs up. Making sure to lock the door behind him, he left you in his room. The music was still playing, far too loud in the mostly empty space. He spotted Cait approaching the lingering groups of drunk students. Asking them to leave with her nicest host voice dressed as Claire Danes’ beautiful Juilet, her Romeo was slumped uselessly drunk on the couch. 

He tapped Vi on the leg with his cane, she grumbled and swatted at him. He tapped her again, stepping out of the way as she kicked out. 

“Up Violet, get up,” He urged, “Do you hate Cait? Or are you going to help her clean up?”

“That is so unfair,” Vi scoffed, but pushed herself up off the couch anyway, fake armour clinking together.

He shrugged, setting off to help Cait himself. The bulk of the cleaning would be done in the morning, all that really needed to be done now was clearing the kitchen counters so they could make breakfast and coffee in the morning, god knows they’d need it. Vi cut the music, the sudden silence making Viktor’s ears ring. 

Behind him Mel helped Jayce stumble into the house, his pinstripe jacket over her shoulders instead. He was luckily lucid enough to stay upright on his own. Vi would be the only one that could carry him to his room, that was if she wasn’t completely wasted herself. Not to mention, Jayce being slung over her shoulder in a fireman's carry would certainly result in him throwing up down her back. 

“Do you guys need help with anything?” Mel asked. Jayce had his face pressed into her braids, murmuring things his drunk brain surely thought were romantic, “or can I get him to bed?”

“We’re okay,” Cait assured her as she swept discarded cans into the recycle bin, “You guys head to bed, we’re almost done here.”

Mel nodded and adjusted her grip on Jayce’s waist, holding him tighter as she made her way to the stairs.

“Goodnight,” Viktor said as they passed by him, “let us know if you need anything.”

Jayce stopped, his sudden halt nearly toppled Mel over as she tried to keep walking. She groaned, complaining his name as she tried to drag him upstairs. He turned to Viktor, pinning him with an unsettling sober look.

“Are you fucking her?” He asked, the uncharacteristic question came out completely steady, not an ounce of drunkenness in his voice.

Viktor stammered for a moment, trying to conjure up a response. No, technically he wasn’t fucking you. He wanted to. You acted like you wanted him to. He had in the past. Viktor’s thoughts spun, completely caught off guard. Luckily Mel came to his rescue, sober and tired enough now to have no desire to pry.

“Jayce, you’re drunk.” She deadpanned, leveling him with stern eyes, “That is none of your business, come to bed.”

Jayce turned away, completely dropping the subject, but leaving Viktor shaken just the same. It was the type of question Jayce only asked when he was so drunk there was no way he’d remember it in the morning. Mel shot him an apologetic look as she dragged Jayce towards the stairs. 

“I think we’re all good for tonight,” Cait called from the kitchen, knocking Viktor out of his daze, “How’s that side of the living room look?”

Viktor shook his head, clearing his thoughts as he looked around. Empty cans and cups on most surfaces, a few halloween costume props abandoned on the floor, and a tipped over camping chair that somehow made it into the house. All things that could be handled tomorrow.

“Good enough,” He called back, not really wanting to bother with cleaning anymore tonight.

“Perfect,” She sounded relieved, “Goodnight Viktor.”

“Yeah, goodnight,” Viktor told her, double checking that the back door was locked and retreating back to his room.

He found you laying there the same way he had left you, flat on your back with your legs hanging off the bed. You had one hand behind your head, the other resting against your stomach, rising and falling gently as you breathed. He placed a hand on the bed, leaning over you and brushing a strand of hair out of your face. You opened your eyes, blinking sleepily up at him, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“I can still bring you home,” He told you quietly, “but if you’d like to stay ‘till morning you are more than welcome to.”

You nodded slowly, “I’d like that,”

“Good,” He laughed softly, running the tip of his finger across the white edge of your makeup at your hairline, “Do you remember that you still have clown makeup on?”

“Do you?” You hummed and raised an eyebrow at him, reaching up and tracing the line on his jaw. With a groan you sat up, hand pausing halfway on its way to rubbing your face. You pouted, “I don’t have any makeup remover.”

“Don’t be mad at me,” Viktor told you, grabbing your hand as you stood and pulling you towards his bathroom, “But I believe you left some things in a drawer in the bathroom.”

“What?” You gasped, following as he opened up the bottom drawer of the counter in the bathroom. He pulled out a paper drug store bag, “Oh my god, I thought I hallucinated buying that stuff.”

“Eh, yeah, Sorry,” He said sheepishly, pulling out the contents, including makeup wipes, facewash and moisturizer, “I kept forgetting to ask you about it, out of sight out of mind.”

“This stuff is expensive, ya know?” You told him, half joking. 

“But you’re glad I have it here, right?” He offered, watching as began to open up the items, “Otherwise you’d be trapped in clown makeup all night.”

“Good point,” You laughed, shaking your head at him as you read the packaging, “Are you allergic to anything?”

“Not that I know of,” Viktor tilted his head, “Well, some dogs, but I don’t think that really applies here.”

“Yeah, I don’t see dog on the ingredient list,” You agreed, peeling open the packet of makeup remover wipes and handing him one, “You should live.”

“Here, you first,” Viktor offered, taking the makeup wipe from your hand and patting the counter, beckoning you to climb up.

You did as he asked, pushing yourself up to sit on the edge of the counter. You parted your knees, allowing him to stand between your legs as he cleared your face. You leaned closer to him, watching as he carefully swiped at the powder on your face. Removing makeup from anyone, let alone someone else, was something he wasn't familiar with. He was gentle, probably too much so as he barely managed to remove any of the white and colored powder from your face at first. 

“Stubborn stuff,” You told him, fetching a clean wipe for him, “Same makeup drag queens and dancer’s use. Doesn’t budge an inch.”

“Hm, clearly,” He increased the pressure on your cheek, watching for any signs of discomfort as he did so.

He liked the way you were looking at him, focused and reverent and warm. It felt different, the alcohol melting away the walls you put up. He wished you’d look at him like this all the time, in front of other people. Look at him like he meant something, like he could do anything. He’d take what he could get, though. Love from you was still love, even in small doses. 

“I’m not gonna break,” You told him, glancing down at his hand near your face, “You don’t have to treat me like I’m made of glass.”

“I treat you with care, Lasko,” He hummed, leaning back to inspect this work and then decided you were right.

“So sweet,” You laughed softly, glancing down at his hands, “Will you be offended If I do it myself?”

“Of course not,” He shook his head, handing the barely used makeup remover to you, “I’ll admit I am not good at this.” 

You twisted your back, turning to look at yourself in the mirror as you scrubbed the makeup off. He settled his hands on your thighs on either side of his hips, tracing gentle lines back and forth across your skin. You removed your makeup with practiced motions, clearing your face almost completely of the makeup in a few seconds. 

“Your turn,” You said to him, dropping the used up makeup remover into the trash. He hummed, letting you pull him a little closer. You started with his forehead, holding his hair back with one hand, the other methodically wiping streaks of white makeup away. 

“Did you have a good halloween?” Viktor asked you, doing his best not to move as you worked.

“Yes I did,” You nodded, narrowing your eyes as you scrubbed the white out of his hairline, “Did you have fun? How was your first American halloween?”

“Eh, it was what I expected,” He shrugged, turning his head to the side for you, “It was as fun as it could be without drinking. Does that make me sound like an alcoholic?

“A little, but you’re twenty-two so it’s fine, I think,” You shrugged, pursing your lips, “But you should have just drank with us, I mean, nothing happened right?

“Yeah, because I was sober to keep things from happening,” He snorted, “And how would you know, anyway? Little Miss Can’t-Keep-Count?”

“Hey! It’s not my fault.” You scoffed, pouting at him. You grabbed a clean wipe.

“Oh yeah?” Viktor asked, shutting his eyes for you, “Someone forced you to drink as much as you did?”

“Well, no,” His eyes were still shut, but he could practically hear the way you rolled your eyes, “but Lest left early, and it’s hard for me to keep track on my own. She drinks, I drink, I smoke, she smokes. When I know she’s done, I know I’m done.”

“Interesting system. Very co-dependent,” Viktor said, opening his eyes and raising an unamused eyebrow, “When did she leave?” He couldn't help the tinge of irritation at the idea of you being left to your own devices at such a large party.

“I don’t know, probably like eleven,” You guessed, “Sky wanted to leave, so Lest went with her.”

“Ah, okay,” He didn’t feel bad about rejecting Sky, if anything he felt bad for not feeling bad.

“Don’t feel bad about her, by the way,” You told him, like the mind reader you were.

“Why?” He furrowed his eyebrows. Just a couple of weeks ago you had been torn up about Sky, convinced that she didn’t actually forgive either of you for what happened.

“Because Sky and Lest are together,” You told him, widening your eyes, “Like, together together.”

“Huh…” He blinked at you. Viktor liked to think of himself as an observant person, this though…this he hadn’t caught on to, “I thought Lest was straight.”

“Uh, yeah, So did I!” You scoffed, “Then I walked in on them going all Anne Lister on eachother.”

“Hm, interesting…” He snorted at your odd reference, then narrowed his eyes at you, “were you supposed to tell anyone that?”

“Well, not exactly,” You cringed, “but I can tell you anything. You’re my… you’re…Viktor.”

He flinched back. ‘ I'm your what? Your what!?’ He felt like screaming, maybe even begging. He opened his mouth, willing his brain to let him say something. You cleared your throat and let an awkward laugh spill past your lips.

“Don’t tell anyone, by the way,” You huffed, blinking and pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. You reached back up, continuing the task at hand, “Lest might actually kill me this time.”

“Tell anyone what?” He asked, pulling a confused look beneath your hands as you worked.

“Atta boy,” You grinned, then dropped your hand leaning back to look at him, “All done,”

Viktor looked away from you and at himself in the mirror, almost surprised to see his own skin again after hours of being covered up. He hummed in appreciation and turned back to you.

“Would you like a shower?” He asked, it was late, but he figured he’d offer.

“Only if you get in with me,” You smirked, giving him an exaggerated wink. Viktor responded with a scoff, hoping it covered up the nerves you shot through him, “I’m kidding. I’m good. Thank you for offering, though.”

You pushed him away gently, sliding off the counter and looking up at him hopefully, “But, if I wouldn’t mind brushing my teeth if you happened to have a spare toothbrush?”

“Of course,” He opened up a drawer and pulled out a pack of toothbrushes. He decided to free the blue one from its packaging, a color he was sure you liked, “Here.”

“Thank you very much,” You said, wetting it in the sink as he handed over toothpaste, reaching for his own toothbrush.

As you scrubbed at your teeth, he watched you pick up a bottle of clear liquid that had been in the bag with the makeup wipes.

“What’s that?” He asked around a mouthful of foam.

“Witch hazel,” You told him, setting it back down, “It’s good for your skin. We’ll use it after we’re done brushing our teeth.”

He nodded an ok, spitting excess foam into the sink before continuing to brush. He hated how nice this felt. How comfortable and domestic and absolutely fleeting this night was. He stole glances at you in the mirror as you hummed to yourself, still drunk as you swayed your head side to side. He’d give anything to do this every night for the rest of his life. A month and a half and maybe, maybe , it would become somewhat more of a reality. A whole dream as opposed to this tiny vision of what could be.

When you closed the bathroom door behind you, a stack of his clean clothes for you to change into in your arms, the reality that you were actually sleeping in his bed with him hit Viktor like a truck. He felt his heart rate spike, nerves creeping up the back of his neck. He wasn’t even going to sleep with you. It probably would have been easier if he would. Too busy with you to think about this new type of closeness. He decided to busy himself in an attempt to not think about it too much.

Viktor got his bed ready, pulling out an extra blanket in case you wanted it and peeling back the covers. He dug an extra charger out of his backpack, plugging it in and connecting your phone that you had already left on his bedside table. Spotting his glasses, he realized he was still wearing his contacts. Not bothering to wait for the bathroom mirror, he swiped them out in exchange for his glasses. He sat on the edge of his bed, then stood, paced a circle, checked on Rio, and sat down again. 

He felt like a teenager, anxious and restless over a girl. Nervous enough to stand and pace around again. A sudden worry that you might not want to share a bed with him crossed his mind. Would you feel weird waking up here in the morning? Would you regret spending the night?

He grabbed one of the extra pillows he kept and placed it in the middle of the bed, a makeshift wall between where you should sleep and where he should. That was good, it was something. He sat again, drumming his fingers against his thighs and remembering he was still in his clothes from earlier. He cursed, standing back up and changing as quickly as he could. Normally he’d strip to his boxers, but that felt wrong with you in his bed. Even with the pillow wall he had created. He pulled on sweatpants and an old tshirt, deciding it was more important that you were comfortable than he was. 

He had just returned to his bed, deciding to check his messages when the bathroom door clicked open. He looked up as you stepped out, dressed in a pair of his boxers and a t-shirt that was big on him, even bigger on you. You smiled at him, seemingly amused by what he was sure was a deer in headlights look. He took a few steps closer before stopping, you tilted your head looking at his bed. A small frown was on your lips when you turned back to him.

“So you hate me?” You asked, pouting at him.

“What?” He gasped, “No, of course I do not hate you Lasko.”

“Then what’s this?” You scoffed, offended as you walked closer and gestured to the pillow in the center of the bed.

“I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable!” He shrugged, looking up at you.

You gave him a deadpan look, stepping closer and putting your hands on his shoulders. You pressed your forehead against his, staring seriously in his eyes, “Viktor. You have been inside me. In more ways than one. We can share a bed, it’s fine.”

“Blunt. Always so blunt.” He returned back, shaking his head, forehead still touching yours until you pulled away. 

You reached past him, grabbed the pillow and tossed it to the foot of the bed. Unceremoniously you crawled over him to take your place in the open spot. Wiggling until you were looking up at him from under his blanket.

“See?” You said, gesturing to yourself, “Perfectly comfortable and the world didn’t end.”

“You are…” He shook his head.

“What?” You challenged, raising an eyebrow playfully, “I’m what?”

“You are you ,” He groaned, falling back onto his own pillow and covering his eyes with his arm.

“Exactly, and you love me for it,” You laughed. You were joking, it was just a figure of speech, and still Viktor froze, just for a second, quick enough that you didn’t notice. 

He reached for the light, switching it off, “Goodnight.”

Your giggles died into silence in the dark. The light from the streetlamps only just reaching you. A couple beats of silence, Viktor tried to slow his heart back down, and then,

“Viktor?” You asked into the dark, hopeful edge to your voice.

“Yes?” He asked without moving, listening intently to the sound of your breathing.

“Can you come closer?” Your voice was quiet.

“Do you want me to?” He asked, chewing on his lip.

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to,” You pointed out, voice light.

He didn’t answer, instead he moved to you. You didn’t waste a moment in pressing yourself against his side. You clung to him, fitting yourself into the space as if you’d done it a thousand times before. You laid your head on his shoulder, hand resting on his chest, and leg hooked over his thigh. He put his hand on your back, reminding himself to breathe as he felt your chest rise and fall.

“Viktor?” You asked again, he could feel your words against his skin.

“Yes?” He asked, voice strained slightly.

“Will you kiss me?” Voice breathy and barely there as you asked.

“Lasko, you’re drunk,” He reminded you. Reminded himself.

“I’m not that drunk anymore,” He knew that was a lie, “Please? Just once? I’ve wanted to kiss you all night.”

He felt like he had been shot into space, or dragged to the bottom of the ocean. Imploding and exploding all at once.

“Just once,” He tried to steady his voice, “Come here.”

He felt you shift slightly, moving upwards until you were close enough. You kissed him slowly. Pressing your closed mouth to his in the dark. Light and gentle and only once.

“Maybe twice?” Viktor breathed against your lips when you pulled away. 

He didn’t wait for an answer, he didn’t need one. You fell back into him, his hand tangling itself in your hair. Despite his grip on you, he let you lead. Not wanting to do anything that was too much. He felt your tongue against the edge of his lip and gladly accepted it, parting his lips for you. The heat of your tongue against his was dizzying. He felt like he was drowning in the taste of you. The gentle but desperate motions lit him on fire. You whined against his lips, grabbing on to his shirt as you tried to get closer. Viktor obliged you, turning on his side and grabbing the crook of your knee. Pulling you flush against him. He bit down gently on your lip, making you gasp and move your hand to grip his hair. 

He placed open mouth kisses along your jaw, teeth nipping gently as he moved towards your neck. 

“ Vik , oh fuck,” You keened his name, head tilting back to give him more space to kiss and bite and suck on your skin. You gasped, rocking your hips once against where he was half hard. 

He grabbed you by the hip, holding you still and shaking his head, “Not tonight,” He panted, gathering every once of restraint he had for this moment.

“But Vik,” You whined, trying to press your hips to his again.

He moved to place both hands on the side of your face, forehead leaning against yours. Your breath mixed in the space between your mouths as you both panted, “No, not like this. Just let this be enough for tonight.”

He pressed a kiss to the corner of your open mouth, “Let it be enough.”

You nodded, stilling your body aside from your roaming hands and tilting your chin up to get him to kiss you again. When he was sure you were going to behave, he gave you what you wanted. Kissing you again, all tongues and teeth and staved-off desperation. Kissing you until you both drifted off, a tangle of warm limbs breathing the same air.

Chapter Text

When Viktor woke up in the morning, he realized he had several problems, ranging from the fact that his house was trashed to an ache just under his shoulder blade. There were two problems in particular that were particularly pressing: Problem one. Waking up to you next to him - breathing gently, looking perfectly content and beautiful - Viktor realized that he had unknowingly waded past the point of return. He was nearing the edge, now. A current at his back relentlessly pushing him towards the drop off, nothing but dark unknowable water waiting for the fall. 

Problem two. He was incredibly hard. Painfully so.

Cringing, Viktor decided his physical problem was more urgent than his emotional one. He rolled over slowly until he was facing the edge of the bed and awkwardly tucked himself into the waistband of his sweats. Hoping that it would keep him hidden enough in case, by some cosmic trick of the universe, you decided to wake up before he could lock himself away in his bathroom. In his hurry to create distance, he stood without giving the rest of his body a second thought.

His hip gave a muffled pop and he could feel the strain of his tendons as they stretched out. He hissed, balling his fist up and biting the side of his hand to keep from making too much noise. He placed a hand on the wall next to him, taking a few steady breaths and trying to let the ache subside enough to move. Luckily, yesterday's version of him had made an assumption that chasing down drunk kids all night might take a toll on his body and his crutch was already close by. He slipped his arm into the cuff, testing his weight before stepping completely away from the wall.  

A sigh of relief left him as he shut the bathroom door. He looked at himself in the mirror and groaned, dragging a hand down his face. He was a mess. Hair pulled in every direction by your hands, dark makeup still clinging to his waterline, hard dick trapped in the waistband of his pants, and a red and purple bouquet of hickeys you gifted him just under the collar of his shirt. 

A mess curated perfectly by you. That was the only reason he accepted it. He let you do this to him. He let you do this to him. 

He turned the shower on. A cold shower would help him in one particularly stiff respect, but the ache it would bring to his joints wasn’t worth it. He cranked the water as hot as the old pipes could go, then stripped and stepped in. 

Despite the heat of the water, the tiles of the bench were uncomfortably cold against his skin when he sat down. He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, attempting to will away his hard on. Instead of black behind his eyelids all he could picture was you. The arch of your back, the perfect curve of your ass, the soft sighs that passed your lips as you slept. He tried for a moment, only a moment, to banish the sinful thoughts out of his mind. Instead, they began to run wild.

He imagined pinning you down, how his hands would look holding your waist, how you would look up at him over your shoulder. He could see the way his clothes you were wearing would move out of his way. T-shirt pushed all the way up under your arms, tits pressed bare against the blanket below you. Borrowed boxers bunched around your knees to give him access to all of you. Skin flushed as you arched your back just a little more, showing off your perfect ass and just a little of your cunt, already wet for him. 

In the real world, Viktor scrambled for a bottle of soap and poured what was probably an excessive amount into his palm. He returned to you in his mind, wrapping his hand around himself as in his mind he pushed into your imaginary cunt. He suppressed a groan as he pictured fucking into you, the gasps that would hitch in your throat every time he bottomed out, the feeling of his severe hip bones pressed against the plush of your ass. The retreat just as good, your body clenching around him, involuntarily doing what it could to keep him inside. The image of his cock soaked in you instead of a handful of mint and cedar body wash. In his mind, he pushed in again, hands firmly on the back of your waist, holding you still as he buried into you over and over again. He imagined the sounds that would slip past your lips, panting and moaning and begging for him to fuck you harder. 

He tipped his head back against the cold tile, breath coming heavier as the tension in his body grew tighter. He chased away the voice in the back of his head telling him how much nicer it would feel to actually be inside you. Of course he knew it would feel better… warmer, wetter, softer. Fucking you like this, fucking you right , would be the highlight of his goddamned life, but you were his friend. The two of you were just friends. And friends can either fuck or share a bed. One or the other, not both. And right now you were asleep and hungover, warming his sheets and he was here. Fucking himself like his life depended on it, wondering if he could get you to squirt, if you would let him come inside of you, if you’d beg for a second round or settle on him eating you out while he recovered. 

In his mind he came inside you, his chest pressed to your back as he sunk his teeth into your shoulder, soothing the skin with his tongue a beat after. Your walls clenching around him as you came with him, mouth full of his name and body full of him . In reality he came on himself, thick ropes of cum painting his abdomen as he worked himself through it. Chin dropped to his chest, jaw hanging open as his orgasm wracked across his muscles. He couldn’t keep his eyes open, he let himself picture the remnants of you as it faded away.

When he was finally able to blink open his eyes and inhale a real breath, he cringed down at himself. He cursed, pushing off of the bench and moving to stand under the water, steam washing away the evidence of his perversion. Several forms of guilt wrapped around his throat. He closed his eyes, tilting his face towards the showerhead, letting it run over his face as he told himself that what he did wasn’t wrong. That this was normal and healthy and he had no reason to make himself sick over it. Jayce had once drunkenly mentioned that he had done the same thing before he officially started dating Mel, getting off to the idea of her because nothing else would do. He even let slip that Mel had admitted to doing it as well. Viktor wondered if you did. It made him feel better, to think about you with your hand between your thighs picturing him. Made whatever damage he could be doing not so damaging. He made a deal with himself to ask you sometime after the semester ended, if he even got that far. 

You had shifted while he was in the shower, curled up on your side with the blankets tugged up to your chin. He resisted the urge to climb back into bed with you. He had no reason to, he was up, he was showered, there was nothing for him to play it off with. Instead he left a note for you - printed handwriting instead of the usual script - and reluctantly dragged himself to the door. 

It wasn’t exactly the break of dawn, but it was certainly early enough that Viktor was surprised to see anyone else awake. But really, he could only be so surprised to see Miss Mel Medarda wide awake and properly made up. Even in a plain t-shirt and jeans she looked like the picture of sophistication. Clothes fitting her just right, hair perfect, posture straight as she sipped at a cup of coffee and scrolled on her phone, looking completely out of place amongst the party wreckage. She was one of the most lovely and terrifying women Viktor ever had the pleasure of meeting. 

“Good morning Viktor,” She spoke without turning to look at him, voice telling him that she was going to be more terrifying than lovely today.

“Morning Mel,” Viktor said carefully, stepping around a bag of cans as he reached the kitchen, “How did you sleep?”

“Good, considering I was sharing a bed with the clingiest six-four drunk man on the planet,” She shrugged, playfully rolling her eyes, “How did you fare with your own bedfellow?”

Her tone made him flinch, drips of coffee sliding down the side of his mug as he missed the lip, “Fine, I barely even noticed she was there,” 

That was a lie.

“Oh really?” Mel quirked her head to the side, frowning at him, “In my experience, she tends to be a lot like Jayce, very clingy when she drinks. I’m shocked she gave you your space.”

“Well, it seems she must have been in a different mood last night, no?” He said casually as if he hadn’t spent at least an hour last night tasting exactly how clingy you could be.

“Hm, must have,” She said with a smile that threw a thousand accusations.

-----

That was a week ago, and slowly the memory faded away like your perfume from his sheets. Neither of you talked about it much. He wasn’t sure exactly how much you remembered. You had asked for reassurance that you hadn’t done anything embarrassing (“Of course not, milá.”) and apologized for needing to be taken care of ("it's not a problem, milá.”)  and that was about it. No discussion aside from that. Luckily, he was sure Jayce didn’t have a single memory from that night and it seemed like Mel didn’t mention anything to remind him. Viktor could feel Mel’s attention throughout the week though. Every interaction he had with you felt like it was being scrutinized.

At first he tried to create distance. Sitting an inch further away, seeking out someone else for help first, responding to your texts fifteen minutes after receiving them, instead of two. That lasted about a day and a half. Monday after class you had asked if he wanted to study together. He had tried to come up with an excuse for why the two of you should study separately. He claimed that together you would get too distracted, immediately taking his words back and giving in when you pouted about it.

So you studied together. He insisted on sitting at the dining table instead of in his room. Semi-public, very unsuspicious. He even tried to sit on the other side of the table, retrieving his own text book instead of sharing one like normal. You weren't having it. Word and thoughtlessly you closed your own book, stood, sat in the chair next to him, and leaned in to look at his book. By the end of the night you were practically in his lap and Mel was staring him down from the kitchen.  

Today had been the first day all week he hadn’t seen you yet. Thursdays you didn’t share a class, but usually had coffee together before you needed to run to Oceanic EnviSci at ten and him to Calculus at ten thirty. Today, though, you had an advising meeting that took up that time slot. So he woke up too early, drank coffee leftover in the pot from Jayce, and lingered awkwardly in his own home before he had to leave for class. 

It wasn’t until much later in the day that he even realized that he hadn’t seen you. It felt like the day hadn’t even started yet in your absence.

Unfortunately for him, as a transfer student, even a third year one, Viktor was given the last pick of classes. That’s how he ended up in intro to Mycology. Did he have an interest in the study of fungi? Absolutely not. Did the course count as an elective towards his degree plan? Yes it did. Thus resulting in him pouring fifteen agar plates in preparation for his upcoming final project. The agar plates themselves were redundant and tedious. In any other class, students would use the stacks of premade and presterilized ones.  The professor insisted they be done by hand to ensure an understanding of the process and were due on Monday. It wasn’t until then that he realized that he hadn’t seen you.

As he stood in the lab, heating chemicals in a microwave oven, he found himself more and more distracted. Thoughts of you seeped into the spaces between everything else. He leaned his chin on his palm, thinking of the way you kissed him and watching the agar spin. He nearly ruined the chemicals more than once as his mind drifted. He was used to thinking about you. He enjoyed thinking about you. But today was different, stronger, more frustrating than normal. His skin felt too tight, the whir of the lab vents felt too loud, his hands felt too shaky. Everything was off, and it was your fault.

He was having withdrawals. An embarrassing thing to come to terms with. The fact that he had become so used to your presence, that going without it for a day felt like torture. And no matter how many times he told himself to get a grip, it just wouldn’t happen. He’d catch phantom drifts of your perfume, an impossibility in the sterile lab. Or he’d hear your laugh for a moment out in the hall, despite knowing you were in a class two buildings over.  Viktor was sure his lack of sleep the prior night might also have had something to do with his state. 

He did his best to refocus. Slowly pouring hot agar and fighting his shaky hands.  He had just regained some sense of control when the first interruption occurred. Heimerdinger peaked his head into the lab, face brightening when he spotted Viktor.

“Viktor!” He called as he strode into the room, carrying his usual upbeat energy, “How are you, my boy?”

“Afternoon, professor,” Viktor nodded, carefully pouring another bottle of hot agar into a plate, “I’m well, and you?”

“Good to hear,” He stopped somewhere a little too close to Viktor’s fragile comfort zone, “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Ah, well you have found me,” Viktor said, half absent as he focused on pouring the liquid into petri dishes, “Is there something I can help you with?:”

“Well, I just wanted to approach and see how you were finding Piltover thus far,” Heimerdinger was a kind man, it would be unsurprising for him to truly just check up on a student, especially one like Viktor who transferred from such a distance. But today's question was leading.

“Honestly, I’ve found myself enjoying it here a little more than I originally anticipated,” he admitted. He enjoyed the University of Piltover for all it had to offer, but he was sure he’d enjoy any place as long as it offered you.

“That's wonderful to hear,” He beamed from under his mustache, “So it’s safe to say you’ll be finishing out your degree here with us next academic year?”

“Yes, I was planning on it,” Viktor told him, letting out a confused laugh, “Unless I’m being kicked out?”

“Viktor, if there was a way to keep a mind like yours here at Piltover forever,” He sighed, “We would.”

“That’s very kind of you professor,” Viktor cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly at the attention.

“It’s true, but I didn’t just come here to flatter you, my boy,” Heimerdinger reached into his bag, pulling out a crisp University of Piltover branded folder. He held it out toward Viktor, “I was hoping, if you were interested in such a position, that you would be my main lab and teaching assistant during next school year?”

Viktor blinked down at the surprise offering. He knew he was a good student, a good scientist. He worked well with Heimerdinger in class, still this was a bit of a shock. An opportunity. The first real opportunity. 

“I know it’s quite early to be making this kind of offer,” Heimerdinger admitted, “but, you’re a very sought after young man, Mr. Sykora. I would be amiss to wait around thinking no other professors would approach you with the same offer.”

“I… Thank you professor,” Viktor shook himself out of his thoughts, struggling for words, “Thank you for this.” 

“No need to thank me,” He said, holding the folder a little closer, “You’ve earned this. I don’t expect you to accept the role immediately, take some time to look over the offer and get back to me when you’ve made a decision.”

“Yes, of course,” He took the folder from Heimerdinger, holding back the urge to tell him yes immediately. Desperation was not a good look in the science world, “Thank you professor. I truly appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome,” He stepped away, “Have a good rest of your afternoon, I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

“You as well, professor,” He nodded, hands twitching as he waited for Heimerdinger to leave the room.

As soon as the old scientist was out of the room Viktor yanked open the folder, reading through the offer letter and skimming the rest of the contents. There was no doubt in his mind he would accept. He’d wait until Monday to do it officially and spend the weekend drafting an email. He’d have to adjust his planned schedule slightly, but he was sure it would be worth it. Being Heimerdinger’s student opened plenty of doors, but working with him? That could open every damn door and window in the world.

He was reading through a page with information about how his student Visa affected his ability to work on campus when a sharp pop shocked him out of the reading. He jerked back, head whipping around to the still spinning microwave and the bottle of agar that had just exploded inside it.

“Kurva,” He hissed, stopping the microwave and yanking open the door. Without thinking he reached in for the bottle, fingertips stinging as soon as they came in contact with the glass. In his hands retreat from the heat, he smacked his knuckles against the side of the door, “Oh, fuck. Fuck! ”

He squeezed his hand with the other, suppressing panic as he watched the glass bottle tip and spill melted agar onto the table, “Jesus fucking Christ,” He shook his head, taking a limping step backwards and trying to recenter himself. 

“Viktor! Are you okay?” He looked up to see Sky standing in the doorway, wide eyed as she looked between the mess on the table and Viktor’s hand cradled to his chest.

“Ah, Sky, sorry, yes I’m fine,” He tried to brush her off, “Just go distracted, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” She walked over to him, reaching out for his hand, “Let me see.”

Viktor flinched away, “I’m fine, Sky.”

She frowned up at him, huffing, “You just grabbed a hundred and seventy five degree glass bottle. You are not fine .”

He opened his mouth to defend himself, then looked down at the pink burns on the pads of his fingers. He let out a reluctant sigh and held his hand out for Sky. Her hands were warm where they touched the back of his pale hand, gingerly pulling his finger open to look at the damage.

“I don’t know why you’re so resistant to… just everything.” Sky said, turning on the sink at the lab station, holding her hand under the tap as she adjusted the temperature.

“What are you talking about?” Viktor flinched back, narrowing his eyes down at Sky, “I am not resistant to things.”

“Sure you aren't.” Sky scoffed, guiding his hand under the cool water.

“Name one other instance of me being resistant ,” He rolled his eyes around the word resistant. 

“Fine, how about the very weird situationship you’re currently in,” She raised her eyebrows at him expectantly, “Why are you resistant to being in a relationship with her?”

“You think I’m the resistant one?” He dropped his jaw, gaping at Sky.

“Are you telling me you aren’t?” She countered.

“Of course, I’m not!”

“How come you refuse to talk about her then?” 

“Well, excuse me for not wanting to talk about my relationship status with everyone I know,” Viktor snapped.

“Have you talked about it with anyone ?” She asked, mouth in a flat line as she waited for an answer, “Have you even talked to Jayce about her?”

Viktor opened his mouth to speak. Face tightened in irritation before, sighing and looking away from Sky.

“That’s what I thought.” She stopped the tap, purposefully laying the back of Viktor's hand down on the table. She walked away to get the first aid kit. 

He frowned after her. Defensive words that he knew would fall flat swirling around his mind. He tried to push it to the side. Sky didn’t know what she was talking about. She only knew what Lest told her. And Lest only knew what you told her. He started to worry about exactly how much that might be. It didn’t really matter. You could talk about whatever was going on with whoever you wanted. He wasn't going to stop you. But the idea of not knowing who knows what about him made him unreasonably nervous.

Sky returned, a small packet of burn cream from the first aid kit in her hand. Wordlessly she opened it and began to dab the medicine where his skin was red. He stared at her downturned head, wishing he could see into her brain. Wanting to know everything without asking. 

“Has…she?” He asked slowly, trying to sound casual.

“Has she what?” Sky asked, absent as she focused on his hand.

“Has she talked about… it,” Us felt like the wrong thing to say in the moment.

“Well, not really,” Sky said, grabbing a paper towel and cleaning up the edges of the burn cream.

“Oh.” He didn’t know how to feel about that. He didn’t even know what he had been expecting. He hoped he didn’t sound disappointed.

“I mean, like, she doesn’t talk about your relationship,” Viktor opened his mouth to correct her, but she already put her hand up, cutting him off and rolling her eyes, “Your friend relationship. She talks about you , though. All the time,” Then in a half mocking version of your voice she said, “ Viktor and I did this! Viktor told me that! Me and Viktor. Viktor, Viktor, Viktor, blah blah blah.”

He felt heat creep up his neck. Childishly proud that he seemed to be on your mind as much as you were on his. He nodded, humming in acknowledgment. She glanced back up at him, eyebrow raised before sighing and shaking her head. Whatever thought she had deemed not necessary to say. She left for another moment, coming back with a nitrile glove, handing it over to him.

“Put this on if you’re going to keep working in here,” She told him as she swept the trash into her hand.

“Thank you,” He said, pulling the glove on, then gave a short laugh, “Sorry for being resistant .”

“You’re welcome,” She said, picking her bag up from the floor, “I actually was just swinging by to ask if you were going to the game tonight.”

“Jayce’s game?” It was the first of the season, but Viktor wasn't even sure it counted as anything more than a scrimmage “Isn’t it away?”

“Yeah, but only like an hour and a half,” Sky shrugged, "We usually only go to closer away games, but It’s the first one of the year. We’re leaving at five, games at seven.”

“Eh, probably not,” Viktor gestured to the mess on the table, “I need to finish this and clean everything up. Thank you for the invite, though.”

“Yeah, totally,” She retreated towards the door, “We’re meeting in the Red Lot at four if you change your mind.”

“Thanks,” He appreciated the offer, but really had more important things to do, as much as he wanted to support Jayce, “Have fun.”

She gave a wave and was off down the hall. Viktor turned to the mess of a blacktop table. The agar had gelled inside the microwave and on the table, the bottle also a sticky mess. He sighed and began the process of cleaning up and restarting. He was supposed to take notes on all of his attempts to pour the plates. He wondered if he’d get caught if he left out this particular attempt. Luckily his laptop and lab book were spared the wet agar stains, as well as the offer folder from Heimerdinger. How ironic that the brilliant man had just been here praising Viktor’s skill, only for him to make a complete mess minutes after. He scoffed, slipping his things into his backpack and out of the way.

He had just managed to scrape the gelled chemicals out of the back of the microwave when his phone buzzed against the countertop. His heart twitched when he saw it was a message from you.

What r u up to?

He was struck by an odd surge of panic. Typing and retyping what should have been a simple message over and over again. Worried about how any words he typed would sound to you he landed on:

Lab work for class.

He instantly regretted it. It was too short, too blunt. He should have left out the period. He should have elaborated, or just lied. Luckily an answer from you came almost instantly, ebbing his anxiety.

Nice, you feel like taking a break? Do you wanna come to the game with me?

*us

Viktor cursed to himself. Of course he wanted to go to the game with you . He’d go to the bottom of the fucking ocean for you . He could already picture the look on Sky’s face when he showed up, her invite turned down only for yours to be accepted half an hour later. He sighed and looked over the table, everything set up to restart his plates. Half were done, and if he did them right the rest shouldn’t take longer than an hour or two to finish. There was no way he’d get it done before four, but it wouldn’t be impossible to get it done after. He chewed on the edge of his nail, foot tapping against the ground as he debated with himself. In the end a debate he lost. 

Ya, I’m down to go

Rubbing the heel of his palms into his eyes, he groaned at his lack of restraint. Before waiting for a response he began to clean up the lab, stowing away glassware and closing up chemicals. He was knelt down on the floor, trying to get flasks to stack correctly under the sink, when an enthusiastic ‘Hello’ came from behind him.

He stood too quickly, smacking the back of his head against the underside of the table. He cursed, hand flying to the back of his head as he whipped around to the door. Maddie was standing in the doorway decked in her “U of P Ambassador” gear, a gaggle of teenagers and their parents behind her. 

“Hey there, Viktor,” She said, biting back a laugh, “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Hello Maddie,” He returned, standing and doing his best to be pleasant in front of the prospective students, “Can I help you with something?”

“This group had a particular interest in Pitlover’s incredible science department,” She said, turning to gesture to the awkward group of kids. Viktor resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her dumb ponytail, “I was going to let them have a peek at the lab, but since you’re here, would you mind answering a few questions?”

‘Fuck you Maddie,’ Viktor thought, steeling his expression into something mildly pleasant, ‘fuck you.’ He checked his watch, twenty-five till five. It’d take him at least ten to get across campus to the red lot. Being a dick to incoming students was not a good look, though. Maddie knew this, and that's exactly why she asked. 

“Yes of course,” Viktor said, settling his cane in front of him, both hands laid on the handle, “Ask away.”

The kids were nervous at first, looking between each other until one of the parents spoke up. Asking him about the connection to the business department. Viktor's stuttering answer at the odd and tone deaf question, at the very least, made some of the highschoolers feel less awkward.

Viktor answered the high schoolers questions as best as he could. He remembered what it was like before starting university; all bright eyed and ready to change the world. He still had hopes for making change, his eyes certainly weren't as bright. He wasn’t going to tell them that, and he was glad no one had told him. He talked up the university’s science department, leaving out the parts where Piltover fell short - funding for certain pursuits tended to be minimal and broken equipment didn’t always get replaced at the speed it should - and gushed about the professors as much as an Eastern European man could gush. All while trying to hide his impatient glances towards his watch. Every time there was a lull where Viktor felt like he could escape Maddie would say something to bring the conversation back up. It was like she could tell he was in a rush and was doing her best to delay him. Eventually he had to decide that there was an end to the Q&A session that Maddie was holding him captive in. It was either politely and awkwardly tell these kids to get fucked or miss out on spending time with you.

…Yeah, these kids could get fucked.

“I’m really sorry,” Viktor said, cringing as he held up his hand to stop the next question, “I’d love to keep talking, but I am running late for something,” He quickly gathered his things as he excused himself, slinging his bag over his shoulder, “Maddie has my email, you are all welcome to reach out with any further questions.” 

He squeezed past the group and into the hallway. Awkwardly trying to avoid a pair of starry eyed girls that had asked most of the non-science related questions. What year are you? Will you be here next year? Where is your accent from? Do you have a girlfriend? (3rd. Hopefully. Illinois. No comment.) 

He booked it across campus, doing his best to make the ten minute trip in six. Luckily he managed to avoid running into anyone else who’d demand his time.When he reached the red lot Mel’s oversized Escalade was still parked in her reserved spot, pop music audible through the closed windows. He could see you in the front seat, sneakers up on the dash and shrugged into your hoodie as you scrolled on your phone. Mel was in the driver's seat, the vanity mirror flipped down as she touched up her makeup. She spotted Viktor when she flipped it up, eyebrows raising for a second before reaching over and tapping you on the leg.

Your eyes glanced up over the top of your phone, immediately perking up as you sat up in the seat and waved enthusiastically at him from afar. He could practically picture a pair of dog ears flipping forward, tail wagging as he approached you. It made sense why you were such good friends with Jayce.

When he reached the car, you rolled the windows down, music becoming clear and quieting as Mel turned the radio down. You leaned your arms on the door.

“Sorry I’m late,” He said, glancing down at his watch, 5:02.

“Two minutes is nothing,” You laughed, “Sky is still trying to drag Lest out of our dorm.”

“Ah, the standard is low I see,” Viktor laughed, hooking his can over his arm and leaning his palms against the windowsill.

“Very,” You rolled your eyes, laughing softly, you leaned closer, “I’m glad you made it, though. Thanks for coming.”

“Thanks for inviting me,” Viktor swallowed hard, trying to remind himself that the world existed outside of the space between the two of you, “I was going crazy in that lab, and Maddie trapped me. I would've been stuck there all night if I didn’t have a carpool to catch.”

“Maddie? What was she doing?” No one liked Maddie, but the extra bite in your voice made him feel good, “Why was she even in the lab?”

He resisted the urge to call you a pet name in front of Mel, instead just using your name, “Easy, she was giving a tour. Offered me up to highschoolers as a human search engine.”

“I wish they’d let someone else give tours of the science building,” You scoffed, “That bitch couldn’t tell an Erlenmeyer from a Florence.”

“Eh, probably not,” He laughed, even in the cold winter air he felt instantly warmer in your presence. You melted all the ice he tended to carry in his chest, turning him into a puddle waiting for you to walk through. Instead of telling you this, of course, he just asked, “How was your meeting this morning.”

“Could've been an email,” You snorted, waving your hand around, “Like, really, there was no reason to meet at eight in the fucking morning. It’s fine, though, I’m totally not bitter about it.”

“You? Bitter?” Viktor scoffed, raising an eyebrow at you, “ Never .”

You chattered on about the meeting and your classes from today, catching him up on whatever he had missed. He let you, more than willing to be talked at if you were the one talking. He nodded along, added affirmations when you expected them, all the while admiring the structure of your face, the way your lips formed around syllables, the crease between your eyebrows when you’d scrunch your nose at a thought.  He watched you until a quick hand clapped him on the back, breaking his focus on you. 

“About time,” Mel called from the driver's seat, looking up from her phone and peeking over your shoulder to look at Lest, “Fifteen minutes late, we should have left you.”

“Hey, first of all, it was only thirteen minutes,” Lest corrected, “And second, despite the fact that I am indeed perfect, looks like this still take time.” She gestured to her outfit, interesting and impractical for the weather, but very much Lest. 

“Girl, it’s a D3 basketball game?” You scoffed, “I think jeans and a t-shirt would have sufficed. It’s not even a conference game!”

“ Listen ,” Lest pouted, “Every outing is an opportunity, okay? You may be fine with looking all plain-Jane, but I prefer to make the most out of public appearances.”

“Public appearance?” You dropped your jaw, “Are you for real? How are we even friends?”

“Because, the Piltover Housing Gods shoved us into a miniature dorm room against our will,” Lest told you, leaning past Viktor to give you wide eyes and a dramatic accent, “ And , you love me. You’d be lost without me. And I, without you my darling - despite your lack of fashion sense.”

“Okay, can we put a pin in the poetic waxing?” Sky asked from behind Lest, crossing her arms over her chest, “I’m freezing and we’re gonna be late for the game.”

She pulled open the door without waiting for an answer, climbing through until she was set next to the other door. Lest followed suit, hands holding her skirt in place as she scooted over. Viktor followed next, sliding his cane into the space between his knee and the door. You turned to look over the back of the seat, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Are you good back there?” You asked, “We can switch if you want, I don’t mind.” 

“I’m okay here,” He assured you, nodding, “Thank you, though.”

“Okay, tell me if you wanna switch later though,” Your voice was low under the bass of the music, only for him as Mel reversed out of the expensive parking spot.

“Will do, milá , thank you.” He said quietly to you. You both hesitated for a moment, still stuck in the space where it was just the two of you. You opened your mouth to speak again, deciding against whatever it was and just smiling at him instead before retreating back to your seat.

Viktor quickly realized that he had never been the only man in the group until now. Usually Jayce was present when they all spent time together, or Ekko sometimes even. For the next hour and a half he was trapped in a speeding Cadillac with a group of girls who had known each other for three whole years. It was like watching a nature documentary. Within the group, in this setting, rolls were assigned. Mel drove, you navigated and warned Mel of speed traps, Lest was in charge of queueing music, taking suggestions as she went, and Sky checked in periodically with everyone, offering ibuprofen and Dramamine and gum to the rest of the group. Viktor got the feeling this was normally how it was, he was grateful to be a guest amongst the four of you. 

He was pleased that his presence didn’t seem to have an effect on how any of you acted either. Jokes weren’t held back, stories and anecdotes that he wasn’t sure he’d hear had the other boys been here.  Lest had said that he had joined a girls trip, therefore making him “one of the girls”. Maybe Jayce was in on it just as much as he was right now. Perhaps it was the 4 to 1 ratio that let you all be comfortable enough to act freely. Whatever it was, he was grateful for it. The opportunity to see you laugh and sing and be happy was something he’d never turn down. The image of you dramatically backing up Mel in a rap song would stay in his head the rest of his life. The feeling of looking at each other knowingly when Sky and Lest both darted for the restroom when Mel had stopped for gas made him feel closer to you. He liked being in on something with you. He watched you jokingly mouth ‘gay’ and jabbing a finger at them as you followed them into the convenience store. You returned alone, holding something behind your back.

“Who’s your favorite American?” You had asked, smirking up at him, swaying side to side playfully.

“Hm, Bernie Sanders?” He had joked, making you gasp.

“Try again.” You narrowed your eyes at him, biting back a smile.

“Apologies, I thought you said politician,” He said, trying not to laugh, “You are my favorite American, of course, who else?”

“That’s what I thought,” You huffed a self satisfied little noise, chin lifting, “Your reward, sir.” Dramatically you had presented him with a flavored Red Bull.

“Thank you very much, ma’am,” He returned your tone, accepting the offer.

“Of course,” Dramatic again, then dropped the flourish, “They had regular, but I thought we could try the new one. Hopefully it’s not horrible.”

It was fine. You both agreed that you’d probably never buy it again, but it wasn’t an entire waste of six dollars. It gave you twice as much energy as you had to begin with, and it gave him enough energy to keep up with you. You convinced him to add more of his music in Czech to the queue. He pulled stuff from his high school years, half stuff he only listened to in order to piss off his mother, half music he actually enjoyed. He was pleased that the four of you seemed to eat it up, and proud that some of the songs were even added to Lest's playlist titled “Girl Gang”. He wondered if that was something worth bragging about to Jayce. 

He completely forgot about the stress of the lab he had been working on and didn’t even think about having to finish it when all of this was over. For now, he was content in being welcomed into a space that had always seemed unknown to him. He had never been part of a “group”. He had friends in school, individuals he’d spend time with. It never felt like this. It had never felt like family like this. He was grateful Jayce had brought him into this world, into your world. 

He knew that meant pushing past what he was used to, talking about things he normally wouldn’t. That was clear the first time you rolled down the window at a red light and whistled at a group of guys on motorbikes. Mel laughed about mask kinks as she drove away. You and Sky had claimed that it was Star War’s fault for making masks sexy. Lest said superheroes were the reason, Mel insisted it was Zorro. Viktor held his opinion that Ghostface is the sexiest masked character. He was surprised at how openly a group of girls talked about sex. He assumed it wasn’t a topic that was shared often, he rarely even spoke to anyone but Jayce about sex. And even then he tended to be vague on details. He wasn’t sure if that was a gender thing, a catholic thing, or just a him thing. Whatever it was, he’d have to get over it. 

A conversation about the ethics of attractive horror movie villains (where Viktor still kept his Ghostface opinion quiet) had just died down, when you barked a laugh from the front seat, drawing the attention of the rest of the car.

“ Shackled by lust? ” You asked dramatically, reading from a church sponsored billboard.

“God I wish ,” Lest returned, holding her wrists together in front of her.

“Jesus sets free,” Mel read off the other half of the billboard, “Huh, I wonder what his safe word is.”

“Oh my god,” Sky cringed, covering her eyes.

“You think he’s saying his dads name ?” You asked, turning around and raising an eyebrow at her.

“No, that’s not-” Sky tried, fumbling for words, “Never mind, you know that’s not what I meant.”

“Hm, maybe he uses the traffic light system,” Viktor added casually, snorting a laugh, “Would Jesus know what a traffic light is? I suppose if he knows about the concept of handcuffs, he must also know about traffic lights, no?”

“Ha, maybe!” You barked a laugh, “Or, maybe it’s like a heaven slash hell system?”

“How would that even work?” Sky asked you, tilting her head.

“Wait, you know what the stoplight system is?” Lest asked, turning to Viktor, “Are you secretly kinky underneath those sweaters and lab coats?”

“Lest,” Mel warned, looking in the rearview mirror at her.

“What?” Lest gasped, holding her hands up in defense, “If he’s gonna hang with the girls, he’s gonna be part of the girl talk.”

“Here we go,” You laughed, craning your neck to look at him in the seat behind you, “Sorry for whatever is about to happen, I should have warned you.”

The look on your face showed you clearly were not very sorry.

“It’s alright. I’m certainly not as prudish as Lest here thinks me to be,” He said, shrugging, “Besides, the stoplight system is incredibly basic, anyone with access to the internet and a body should know it.”

“Can of worms, Viktor,” Mel said, shaking her head, “Can of worms.”

“Okay, well, what are you into, then?” Lest asked, looking at him expectantly, “What gets you going?”

“And you need to know why?” Viktor scoffed at her, leaning closer to the window.

“Because! Friends tell each other that stuff, it’s fun Viktor,” Lest insisted, “Don’t you know how to have fun?”

“Yes, I tell my friends who are…” He thought for a second, thinking about the over dramatic misogynist accusation he’d surely get if he said ‘men’, “I'll tell some friends, but not everyone.”

“Because we’re girls.” Lest said, narrowing her eyes at him, catching on immediately and making Viktor cringe.

“That’s not what I-” Viktor tried to defend himself, Lest cut him off.

“Here, I’ll tell you ours first!” Lest said, then gestured to herself, “Sometimes I wear cat ears and a collar with a bell during sex, I think it’s cute.”

“I really don’t need to kno-” Viktor tried, eyebrows furrowed as he waved his hand in front of him. Lest cut him off again.

“Viktor, I’m sharing, don't be rude,” Lest scolded, clearly finding heaps of amusement in teasing him, “I also love choking. Sky’s into overstimulation and is incredibly good at sexting. We have proof in the group chat, but we’ll keep that to ourselves.”

“Lest!” Sky gasped, staring wide eyed at her.

“Oh come one, you’re so proud of your sexting. You’ve even told Jayce about it,” Lest pointed out, confirming Viktor’s suspicion that Jayce had been in his position before.

“And Mel is into bondage! She’s, like, incredible at all that rope stuff!” Lest said, patting her hand on Mel’s shoulder, “I let her tie me up all crazy at a party once, it was fun.”

“It’s called shibari,” Mel corrected, glancing up in the mirror, “Do not tell Jayce you know about that.”

“And she’s into, like, fairly public sex,” Lest said, gesturing to where you were watching, clearly not expecting Lest to loop you into this,  “And marking, like hickeys and bite marks on herself and whoever she’s hooking up with.”

You yelped, sliding down in your seat and covering your face. He couldn’t see, but he was sure you were scarlet red right now. You’re muffled voice came from under your arms, “Not cool, Lest, not fucking cool.”

“Oh, come on!” She laughed, “When did you get all prudish? You used to let people sign the inside of your thighs and would point out all the people with your teeth marks under their clothes.”

“Lest, look for a new roommate, because I’m killing myself.” You tried to sound sarcastic, but he could hear the shake beneath your voice.

“So dramatic,” Lest rolled her eyes, “I'm sorry, I did what needed to be done. Now Viktor has to tell us. He’s all caught up.”

Viktor sighed, backed into an awkward corner. He wasn’t shocked at what Lest had said about you. Both times you’d fucked him at been at least somewhat public and he had walked around with the evidence on his skin for at least a week after. The signing was new, but fairly tame in his eyes. Still, he understood why you wouldn’t want Lest telling him.

He groaned, finally giving in to what Lest wanted. Hoping that if he spilled his guts, you’d feel better about your own secrets being told. 

“Fine, I like when someone wears heels and lingerie,” He admitted, a rather tame preference, it could barely even be called a kink, before she could call him out on it he continued, “And I like when someone begs me to tell them what to do. I like when they aren't afraid to let me tell them what to do.”

A tense silence falling across the car as whatever song had been playing faded out. Lest blinked at him owlishly, gears turning in her brain for a moment before she raised an eyebrow at him.

“Oh my god, you are so boring .” Lest complained, squinting at him. “A lingerie kink and a power kink? Really, that’s all? And I thought you were different. Apparently you are like every man on the planet.”

“No way I’m being kink shamed by the bitch that wears fucking cat ears when she gets fucked,” Viktor scoffed, literally tugging at his own hair,

“It’s not kink shaming!” Lest shouted back, “It’s kink humbling.”

“Fuck you, Lest!”

“Hey, children, calm down, ” Mel scolded, glaring quickly over her shoulder. She turned the music down, “You two are going to make me crash this damn car if you don’t shut up.”

“Sorry mom ,” Lest rolled her eyes, then turned to Viktor, pointing at him and mouthing, ‘ boring’

“Take a left at this next light,” You spoke up, voice rough and weak as you directed Mel.

Lest’s eyes went wide at the realization that you had been crying, Viktor turned on her glaring daggers at her perfect face. Her eyebrows knit together, regret instantly crossing her features as she shook her head, mouth open.

“Hey, are you okay?” Lest asked, leaning forward and reaching out for your elbow where it rested in the center console. 

You flinched away, pulling your arm out of her reach, “I’m fine. Mel, turn right at the stop sign into the lot.”

Lest spoke your name, “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t think-”

“I said I’m fine!” You snapped, turning to look at her over your shoulder, “Just fucking drop it okay?”

An awkward silence fell over the car as Mel searched for a parking spot. Viktor panicked, staring at the back of your shoulder, unsure what to do. He wanted to reach out, to check on you, but he didn’t think that would go over well. He could feel Lest’s anxiety next to him as she probably felt the same thing.

“I used to make guys dress up like my 10th grade history teacher,” Sky said, breaking the silence as Mel turned the car off, “Like, if that makes anyone feel better.”

You snorted an involuntary laugh, trying to fight it. Eventually a solid laugh slipped out, then another, until you dissolved into a fit of giggles that spread around the car. The five of you laughed harder than you had the whole car ride. 

“I’m sorry Sky,” Mel said, gasping as she tried to compose herself, wiping a tear from her eye, “That’s ridiculous.”

“No, I know!” Sky giggled, “I made them wear glasses and a cardigan. I only stopped when I ran into him during spring break last year. He was still wearing the cardigan but he had not aged well…”

“Sky, I love you, truly the bravest woman in the world. Waterboarding wouldn't even get me to admit that,” Mel said, cracking open her door and letting in a gold gush of wind, “Now let’s go, we’re gonna miss tip-off.”

Outside, Viktor stretched his hands over his head, muscles stiff from the drive. You narrowed your eyes at him, tugging the hem of his shirt, fingers brushing against his skin.

“What’s this?” You asked, pinching the hem of his shirt, fingers glancing against his skin he tried not to flinch at the feathery contact.

“What?” He asked, voice strained as he stretch,

“You’re wearing blue,” You scoffed, gesturing to your own maroon hoodie, “You can’t wear blue. The other team is blue.”

“I wasn’t exactly planning on being very school spirited today,” He shrugged, steading his cane on the ground.

“You should always be ready to be school spirited,” You told him, jabbing a finger at his chest.

“That so?” He tilted his head down at you, raising an eyebrow.

“Yep, luckily for you,” You drawled, grabbing the hem of your hoodie and wiggling out of it, laughing as you freed yourself. Underneath you were wearing a University of Piltover t-shirt, the same color as the hoodie, “I was double ready.”

You held the hoodie out to him, he took it gingerly, “You want me to wear your hoodie?”

“What? Worried it won’t fit?” You scoffed, “This isn’t a dig, it’s just the truth. Your beanpole ass could fit in my hoodie from middle school.”

“First of all, rude ,” He said, blinking at you, “Second, I was going to ask won't you be cold without your hoodie?” 

“Well, I would be,” You shrugged, then stepped closer, hands coming up to grab at the collar of his own jacket, “if you didn’t trade me for this.”

“I should've known,” Viktor scoffed, rolling his eyes but shrugging it off anyways, “Always after my jacket.”

“Hey, It’s a good jacket!” You defended, looking at him innocently as you pulled it on, “You don’t have to let me wear it.”

He knew that wasn’t an option. Besides, he wanted you to wear his jacket. He’d give you all of his clothes if you asked. He also knew that you’d be bored if he gave in too easily. 

“You’re right,” He nodded, then held your own hoodie back out to you. 

You gasped, looking down at the returned item of clothing like he was trying to give you a dead animal. You glanced back up at him, eyebrows pulled together, eyes scanning his face. His false seriousness broke, “I’m kidding, milá,” He laughed softly, face splitting into a smile as he gave in and tugged the hoodie on, “Thank you for the school spirit.”

It fit him, like you said it would, and was still warm from the car ride. Your smell all over it. He resisted the urge to press his nose to the collar in front of you.

“You’re welcome ,” You said pointedly, shoving your hands into the pockets of his stolen jacket, you nodded towards the others already ahead of you  “Let’s go.”

You caught up with the others, walking close to his side as you weaved through the crowd at the front door. You trailed behind Mel, letting her lead the way into the gym. It was clearly the B gym. Outdated fixtures and rocky wooden bleachers. The scoreboard worked, counting down the warm-ups in big red numbers. 

Viktor traversed the bleachers with as much grace as he could. Grateful when Sky asked to sit at the first open seats. They had to split up, Viktor sitting with you one bench below where Mel, Lest, and Sky were sitting. 

“Oh, there he is!” Mel gasped, pointing down to the court. They all followed her outstretched arm, spotting Jayce at the end. He stood on the court, decked out in his maroon and grey warm-up gear, waiting in line for his turn to practice a lay-up. Mel waved her hand towards him, unashamedly shouting down to the court, “Jayce!”

It only took Mel calling out to him once before he looked up, her voice reaching him even over the din of the gym. His face lit up when he spotted the group. He waved up at you, scrambled to catch the ball when he realized it was his turn. 

“Is he starting?” Viktor asked, looking over his shoulder at Mel.

“Yeah, he’s supposed to.” She said, with a nervous excitement in her voice, “This is his first time starting.”

“He’s gonna do great, Mel,” You assured her, reaching back and squeezing her bouncing knee, “He’s had tons of playing time before this.”

“I know,” She sighed, “he just gets so in his head.”

“He always does, then he blows everyone away anyways,” Sky jumped in, voice comforting.

Out of the corner of his eye, Viktor could see Lest lean forward, mouth close to your ear. He saw you pick at the edge of your nails, dangerously close to drawing blood from the torn cuticle. Without saying anything or looking your way he pulled your hand over, lacing his fingers with yours and hiding it between your joined bodies. The gym was crowded enough to not raise suspicion by strung so close together. You relaxed, squeezing his hand as you and Lest conversed quietly.

“I’m sorry,” was all he caught from Lest. Good. She should be apologizing. 

“It’s okay,” He heard you whisper back, “Just don’t do it again, yeah?”

“Never,” She assured you, wrapping her arms around your neck, cheek pressed to yours, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You said, bumping your temple against hers.

Viktor loosened his grip on your hand, letting you pull away if you wanted. You held on a second longer, squeezing tightly and bumping your knee against his before releasing. 

The buzzer went off, making the five of you straighten up, attention turned to the court. You watched the men’s team hustle to the bench, stripping off warm up gear and hyping themselves up. Pitlover’s starting lineup ran out onto the court as they were announced. Your group cheered for all of them, but loudest when Jayce was called. He waved up to you all, any nerves he held hidden well.

“He’s jumping?” Lest gasped as Jayce stood in the center of the court, shaking the opposing team members hand across from him. He executed a perfect tip off, getting the ball to his teammates easily. Mel cheered for her boyfriend, making it clear to anyone close by that he was hers . 

As the game settled into a rhythm, Viktor could feel you practically buzzing beside him. Excitement radiating off your skin as you watched, elbows on your knees and hands clasped as you leaned forward, eyes following the ball.

“I didn’t know you liked basketball so much,” Viktor commented, bumping your knee with his to get your attention.

“I actually don’t know much about it,” You admitted, “I’ve gathered enough to follow what's happening during a game from watching Jayce play, but I don’t know the technical details.”

“Really?” he raised an eyebrow at you, “I would have assumed you had played the way you’re watching.”

You laughed, shaking your head and sitting up to talk to him, “I like competition . I don’t really care about the sport itself, I just care that my school is playing.”

“Ah, I see,” Viktor was competitive himself, he had to be to get where he was now, but allegiance wasn’t something he necessarily felt.

“Besides, I ran track in high school,” You shrugged, “Ball sports weren't really my thing.”

“I didn’t know that,” Viktor tilted his head. You had never mentioned playing organized sports before, “How long did you do that for?”

“Eight and a half years,” You said, a sadness hidden beneath your voice. You shrugged, “I don’t really talk about it.”

That was probably your way of telling him you didn’t want to talk about it, even with him. Curiosity and the urge to hear you talk about yourself got the better of him, “That’s a long time to do something. Why’d you stop?”

“Injury,” Was all you said, turning back to the game and taking a heavy breath through your nose. 

He felt a hit against his back. He turned his head to catch Lest, Sky, and Mel all looking down at him like he was crazy. Lest gestured to you and mouthed ‘Shut Up’ at him. He flinched, realizing this was apparently not the thing to push you on. He cringed, thinking of a way to backtrack and change the topic.

“You know, less than ten percent of high school students go on to compete in that same sport in college,” Viktor said, remembering the statistic he had seen off-handedly while searching for something else. He wasn’t sure why he thought this was the right thing to say, because - based on the way Mel kneed him in the shoulder again - it was clearly not.

“Oh my god,” Lest huffed, hiding her face in her hands. 

You huffed a small laugh, turning to him, “Did you see it might snow tonight?”

He blinked at you, watching your eyes and taking a moment to realize you were saving him. You blinked back, waiting for a response.

“I didn’t,” He said slowly, then, “Do you like snow?”

“I love snow.” You said, an expectant smile gracing your lips. 

‘You perfect, gorgeous, patient girl,’ Viktor thought, he wanted to kiss you. To thank you for pulling him out of the hole he dug himself. Instead he just said, “I hope it snows.”

“I hope it sticks,” You said, excitement creeping into your voice, “I hope class gets canceled.”

“Ugh, me too!” Sky said from behind you, “I have a huge test tomorrow.”

“Who’s religious here?” Lest gasped, grabbing you by the shoulder, “Pray for us.”

You grabbed him by the arm, looking at him with wide eyes and fighting back a smile, “Your time to shine, Catholic Boy.”

Viktor barked a laugh, then held his palms together in front of himself, “Dear God, please let it snow so much that we can get high and build and igloo instead of going to class. In the name of the father, the spirit-”

“Wait! Ask for Piltover to win the game, too.” You cut in, a hand on his shoulder.

“Dear God, please let it snow so much that we can get high and build an igloo instead of going to class and please let Piltover win this game so that there's a rager tomorrow night. In the name of The Father, The Son, and The Holy Spirit, Amen.” 

“Amen.” The four girls echoed, bursting into laughter a second after.

You leaned into him, trying to stifle your laughter in your hand. He put his hand over your head, trying not to laugh himself as he cradled you. Catching irritated looks from the opposing teams fans. He tried not to react when he caught the look Mel was giving him. 

Sky shushed you all, glancing around at the rest of the crowd, her giggles dying out as she tried to refocus the group. For the second time that day laughter dispelled the uncomfortable energy. 

-----

After the game, Mel stayed inside to wait for Jayce and the rest of the group wandered outside to find that it in fact had started snowing. You and Lest bounced around, excited gasps and giggles as you tried to catch snow on your tongue. 

“Snow day. Snow Day. Snow Day!” Sky was chanting, voice hopeful as she looked up at the flurries.

You bounded up to him, beaming, “It’s not sticking yet, but it has potential!” Snowflakes landed in your hair and eyelashes, perfect structures melting into you. He could watch you like this forever.

“Hopefully after we make it home,” He pointed out, absentmindedly reaching up and zipping the borrowed jacket up to your chin. 

“True,” You nodded, lifting your chin and letting him zip you up, “Don’t want to be stuck in enemy territory.”

“Enemy territory?” Viktor scoffed at you, tapping the bottom of your chin with his fingertips, “So dramatic.”

You shrugged, and offered, “I could be more dramatic if you want?”

“Please don’t.” He cringed, holding his hands out and looking around nervously at the throngs of rival fans.

Luckily, you didn’t get the chance to make a scene about the ‘enemies’. The Piltover basketball team came shuffling out of the doors, happy and exhausted. You skipped over towards them.

“Jayce!” You clapped him on the back as he walked out of the building with Mel, ends of his wet hair freezing in the cold air, “Good fucking game, man! That tip off was incredible.”

“Hey,” Jayce said, flashing a perfect smile and, as usual, brushing off the compliment, “It was fine, I could've had more control.”

“Oh come on ,” You scoffed, “You fucking killed it.”

“It was a close game, could have been anyone's,” Jayce shrugged.

“But it wasn’t anyone's , it was ours,” You pointed out, “We fucking won, and I’m telling you right now it’s because of you, man.”

“Okay, Okay, I get it, I’m the best,” Jayce said, holding his hands up in defeat. It was an odd sight, a man as large as him looking so bashful, “Now can we please get something to eat.”

-----

They ended up at the only place open this late at night. A dingy diner that hadn’t seen an equipment or decor update since 1973. The six of you were crammed into a corner booth, linoleum creaking underneath you. Jayce and Sky were in the end seats, their respective partners next to them, then you and Viktor crammed into the middle.

You didn’t seem to mind. Your knee knocked against his as you leaned over and chatted with Lest over the menu. It was nice, you being so comfortable next to him. He wished he could feel the same. He would have, had Mel and Sky not been looking at him so intensely. He could feel their eyes on him, watching, any movement, any breath towards you earned a reaction from them.  Mel even took it upon herself to give Jayce some more room on the bench by sliding into Viktor. Nudging him closer and closer to you. 

Again, you still didn’t seem to mind. Not even when he was pressed against you, knee to hip. You turned to him, tapping the menu he hadn’t touched on the table.

“You know what you’re getting?”

He looked down at it, humming, “I’m not sure, not really hungry.”

“Me either,” You admitted, “But I was gonna get fries and a shake if you wanted to share?”

He felt Mel shift next to him, her face turned towards Jayce but her attention fully on Viktor. He gave the answer he would have given had you two been alone, “Sure, sounds great.”

“Cool,” You smiled, grabbing the menu from in front of him and stacking it at the end of the table with yours. 

It wasn’t long before a tired looking waitress came over to take orders. She gave her required script with as much energy as a middle aged woman working the night shift at a shitty diner could give. She was patient, though, even when Lest couldn’t figure out what she wanted and eventually asked to go last before the waitress continued on to Sky, then to you.

“We’re just gonna do a plate of fries and a large shake, please,” You told her, leaning your shoulder lightly against Viktor, signaling exactly who ‘we’ included.

“Chocolate, strawberry, or vanilla?” The waitress asked, writing on her notepad as she spoke.

“Oh, uh,” You turned to Viktor, silently asking his preference.

He didn’t really care, but knew what you’d like, “Strawberry is good, and can I get a water without ice, as well? Thank you.”

The waitress hummed in acknowledgement as she scribbled on the pad, then moved on to Mel. You were still leaning against him, shoulder pressed to his, as you scrolled through your phone. Reading an article as far as Viktor could tell, maybe an assignment for class that had been forgotten. He watched over your shoulder as you copied the link, opened your messages, and clicked on his contact. Two things stood out to him, the first being his number being saved as Vik <3 in your phone, the second being the message that was waiting in the message bar. : Ur still coming yeah?

You must have typed it out just before he reached the car. Just another confirmation of what Sky had said to him earlier. You seemingly wanted him around as much as he did you. You deleted the unsent text and sent the article link instead.  When you turned to look up at him, he looked away. Pretending to hold an interest in the grimy lights overhead.  

“I sent you a link,” You said, waiting for him to make eye contact with you, “It’s an article, you should read it later.”

“Oh?” He said like he didn’t already know, “What about?”

“Some new research on prosthetic organs,” You told him, “I figured you’d find it interesting given the whole biomechanical engineering thing.”

“You figured right,” He said, looking forward to the chance to read the article, “Tell me about it?”

Your eyes lit up as you gave him an abstract of the research. He tried not to hold his breath when you placed your hand on his thigh, the other hand waving around as you spoke. The concepts were intriguing, He was proud you had thought of him. He wondered if you read the article out of your own volition, or because you thought it was something that he would like. It didn’t matter much, you were thinking of him either way.

He listened carefully to you, explaining terminology you asked him for context on and making note to talk to you more after reading the article. He listened until the tired waitress came back with food and drinks. She distributed the simple meals, leaving two straws with the pink milkshake between you and Viktor. With a quick check that everything looked right, she was off. Probably not to be seen until the check was brought.

Viktor picked up his water, laughing as you relinquished a fry to Lest, who had ordered herself a salad. He paused when the water reached his lips and he caught the sound of ice knocking around in the glass. He scrunched his nose, setting the glass back down and resigning to wait for the ice to melt.

“You okay?” You asked quietly, giving a quick glance between him and the glass, a fry halfway to your mouth.

“Oh, yeah,” He shook his head, brushing you off, “Just the ice. I don’t like it.”

“Oh, like the cold hurts?” You asked, tilting your head. 

“No, eh, I don’t like when it touches my teeth,” He laughed awkwardly, feeling childish, “It’s not a big deal, I usually just wait for it to melt.” 

You blinked at him for a moment, not judging, just thinking. Then reached for his glass, sliding it closer to your own water.

“Well, I really like ice,” You said, unrolling a set of silverware. You pulled the fork out and hovered it over the lip of his glass, pausing to ask, “Can I?” 

He nodded and you dipped the fork into his drink, catching a couple ice chips and dropping them into your own drink. He watched you focus as you repeated the action a few more times until his water was free of ice. You handed him the glass and picked up your own.

“Better?” You asked, holding the lip of your glass out to him.

He tapped the edge of his to yours with a satisfying clink , “Thank you.”

-----

By the time they began to shuffle out of the diner,  a good inch or so had begun to stick to the ground. 

“Mel has the keys,” Lest whined, yanking on the car door.

You hardly noticed, already busy balling up a fistful of snow and lobbing it at Jayce’s shoulder. He whipped around to glare at you as you hid behind the side of the car, another snowball smacked him in the chest from the other direction. Sky pretended to be very interested in her nails when he turned to look.

 “Hell no,” Lest shook her head, swiftly turning on her heel and striding back towards the diner, “I’m going back inside.”

“Aw boo, Lest,” You half complained, half laughed as you threw a snowball her way. Viktor could tell you missed on purpose, “It’s just snow!”

“Yeah, and this jacket is just suede,” she shouted over her shoulder as she opened the diner door and stepped inside. 

A snowball landed at Viktor’s feet, making him flinch. He looked up to see you, holding two already made snowballs in your hands, one held out as an offering to him.

“Sorry, milá,” He shrugged, taking a step back and holding a hand up, “My hands are cold enough as is.” 

He was grateful you didn’t push him, instead you shrugged and threw one of the balls at Sky and the other at Jayce. Viktor retreated inside as the snowball fight turned into a snowball war. He watched the three of you running around the empty parking lot, using Mel’s car as cover from each other. He couldn’t help but to focus on you. Face absolutely lit up in joy. You were laughing, cheeks beautifully red from the cold and hair swirling around your face in the wind. A spot of snow was clinging to the back of your shoulder where Jayce had nailed you. His jacket, Viktor realized, scoffing to himself. You scolded Jayce, shouting and laughing at the same time as he wound back to pitch the snowball like a baseball. You screamed and ducked as he pitched it at half speed. 

“God, why don’t you take a picture?” Lest scoffed from where she sat on a bench behind him, “It’ll last longer.”

Viktor pulled out his phone and took a photo. A couple actually, some focused on you, but mostly capturing all three of your running around. He sent them off to the group chat for you all to find later. 

“Lest, you confuse me,” He said, slipping his phone into his pocket and settling into the bench opposite her, “Do you hate me or not? Because sometimes I really can’t tell.”

“I don’t hate you Viktor,” Lest said, narrowing her eyes at him, “I just don’t trust you.”

“And why is that?” He watched a clump of snow melt off the foot of his cane.

“Because, your actions directly affect the emotions of my best friend,” She said, voice flat like she was saying some other known fact, “I can’t help but be wary of that.”

“Well trust me,” He said, mouth in a flat line as he stared her down, “I have no intention of harming her. Ever.”

“Intention vs Impact.” Lest shrugged, crossing her legs, “Do you know how you’ll impact her?”

Viktor opened his mouth to argue, irritated at Lest’s smug accusations. Before he could say anything their waitress popped around the corner. A sigh of relief left her mouth when she saw them sitting there.

“Oh, I’m glad I caught ya,” She held a cellphone out to Viktor, “Your girlfriend left her phone.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Viktor huffed, taking your phone from her, then took a slow breath and slipped your phone into his pocket, “But, thank you.”

The waitress let out a short laugh, “Does she know that?” She raised an eyebrow at Viktor before walking away.

“This is so fucked up,” He shook his head in disbelief, turning back to Lest, “ I’m the one being turned down by her . If it were up to me we’d be…”

“You’d be what, Viktor?” Mel asked as she rounded the corner, eyes narrowed as she analyzed him.

“Nothing, fucking nothing. Let’s just go,” He huffed, pushing himself up with his cane, then muttering under his breath as they walked out, "Frustrating women, the both of you. So nosy, can't leave anything be.”

Up ahead the Escalade beeped, lights flashing yellow as Mel unlocked it.

“Sorry,” She said from behind Viktor, “I thought I unlocked it.”

Lest yelped as Sky ran up to her, cold hands outstretched towards the other girl, “Sky don’t you dare!” She dodged her secret girlfriend, giggling as she raced her to the car. 

Jayce took the keys from Mel and opened up the passenger door for her, a silent chivalrous offer to drive the rest of the way home. She kissed him on the cheek before climbing in.

You were waiting next to the open back door as Lest and Sky climbed into the third row. Smiling up at him as he reached the car. Looking at you up close, in the light, was even better than before. Cheeks and nose and ears all red cold, bits of snow wetting your hair, slightly out of breath from running around. Your breathing came in short puffs of fog in the cold air. 

“Have fun being warm and lame?” You joked, climbing into the car, you slid over so he could follow after. 

“Yes I did,” He replied matter-of-factly, getting into his seat and shutting out the cold, “You have fun freezing?”

“Freezing? Barely,” You scoffed, then reached out and placed your cold hands around his neck, “See? Practically burning hot.”

“I think you have nerve damage,” He cringed, trying to get away from you, you followed, giggling as you slipped one hand down the back of his shirt, the other on the side of his neck, “Ah, Ježíš! Your hands are like ice,” He yelped, half heartedly pushing you away.

He caught Mel watching in the rearview mirror, a spark of self-conscious panic shot through his chest. Gently he grabbed your wrists, actually prying your hands away from him. 

“Settle, milá,” He hushed, hyper aware that every move he made was being observed. 

“Sorry, sorry,” You giggled, sliding back to your side of the car and snapping your seatbelt into place. 

As Jayce pulled out of the parking lot, the car fell silent aside from the blasting heaters. You held your hands up in front of the ones closest to you, warming your cold skin. He watched you settle against the door, arms crossing and burrowing into his stolen jacket. 

He didn’t realize how much he looked at you until he actively tried not to. He caught himself staring at your hands, your knees, even your boots in an effort to not look at your face. In the end he resorted to fully facing the window, elbow leaning on the edge and mouth pressed against his face as he watched the slowly whitening landscape streak by. 

It was a while into the drive before he heard you gasp softly, the sound of your rustling around in your seat reaching him. He frowned, glancing over to see you shoving your hands into your pockets, and feeling around underneath you. Panic was all over your face as you looked up at him. It only took a beat for him to realize what you were looking for.

You opened your mouth, but before you could say anything he slipped your phone out of his pocket and handed it over.

“Sorry,” He whispered, as you took it with a sigh of relief, “The waitress handed it to me, I forgot.”

“Thank you,” You whispered back, leaning back into your seat.

He nodded, retreating to his own window. Again, only another few seconds passed before his own phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out to find a text from you.

Are you ok?

He frowned, looking over at you. You were looking out your own window, the only sign you had texted him being your phone open on your lap. He typed out a reply.

Yes. Why do you ask?

Out of the corner of his eye he saw you read his response and begin typing out a new message.

Why are you so far away? I’m sorry about the hands thing.

He glanced back up at you. You were looking at him now, not pretending to be disinterested. He frowned and shook his head, opening his mouth to speak before turning back to his phone.

I’m not upset with you milá

Are you sure

I promise.

He glanced around the car. Lest and Sky were dead asleep, half on top of each other, Mel was silently reading a book on her phone and Jayce was nodding along to the quiet music on the radio. He debated for a moment, then gave in like always. He held his arm out to you, beckoning you closer.

You didn’t hesitate to unclip your seatbelt and slide over to him, slotting yourself against his side, head against his shoulder. Even with your screen in view you sent another text.

What's bothering you?

He sighed, pressing his forehead against the top of your head and squeezing his eyes shut. What was he supposed to say? That he was obsessed with you and it was simultaneously ruining and perfecting his life. That everyone around him was beginning to catch on. That there wasn’t anything he could do but wait for you. He couldn’t do that of course, so instead he gave you a half truth.

Nothing really, I just have some work to finish when we get back.

You hummed, only half believing, then typed again.

Can I help?

You’re very sweet, but it’s okay. I can handle it.

You looked up at him. Searching his face for the truth. He refused to give it away, instead he pressed a chaste kiss to your temple and mouthed ‘ I promise.’ You huffed, but took his word for what it was. He did his best to enjoy your closeness without wallowing in the fact that he had no fucking clue what was going on. 

-----

Viktor didn’t forget things. He could use equations he hadn’t used in years. He could name every cousin Jayce would tell stories about. He remembered the shape of his grandmother's wedding ring. He could list the due dates of the rest of his assignments for the rest of the semester. He could recall every time you called him baby. 

But for some fucking reason, the project he had been working on that was worth a significant portion of his grade had entirely slipped his mind.

He braced his hands against the edge of the black top table. Staring at the mess of his ruined project. In his rush to meet you at the Red Lot, he had completely forgotten to move the agar plates to the cold room. Each one was desecrated. The heat in the lab kicked on at some point, rendering each unprotected plate bone dry and unusable. When Viktor returned past midnight, already exhausted, to discover that making five agar plates had turned into making fifteen. He started to lose it a little.

By the time he had everything set and ready to start working, another half an hour had passed. He was starting to feel the consequences of waking up at five the morning before. He felt slow, sluggish in his movements and limbs heavier than normal. The stress headache that set in made it hard to focus under the aggressive fluorescent lights. 

Nothing was going right. The agar wouldn’t heat to the right temperature. Each time it came out of the microwave it was either far too hot or barely above room temperature. When he occasionally did get the consistency right, his hands shook like a leaf as he poured. He managed to get about half of the substance where it needed to be, the rest spilled onto the table. At some point, with only two of the fifteen plates completed and the third getting more and more difficult with each tired attempt. Viktor had his first real breakdown of junior year. 

This was a simple fucking lab. Heat. Pour. Close. Store. Heat. Pour. Close. Store. Heat. Pour. Close. Store. That’s all he had to do. Heat. Pour. Close. Store. Yet he couldn’t fucking do it. The labeled plates in the cold room told him he was the last person in class to finish it. Almost everyone else had finished theirs within a day. He was supposed to be good at this. He couldn’t fucking walk right. His words went misunderstood. His lungs struggled to take in air. But his brain? His understanding of science? That’s what he was good at. Fucking great at.

He couldn’t help it when his lungs started to stutter in short gasping breaths. Or when his vision began to narrow and hot tears pricked at his eyes. He managed to fall onto a stool, sitting on the edge with his hands braced against the table as he spiraled. He could be home right now. He could be back in Černošice. Back with his mother. Back in the bookstore he worked summers in. Warm and safe and stable. Not worried about a visa or money or speaking English.

“Viktor?” Your careful voice came from behind him, fingers brushing against his shoulder.

He flinched with a gasp, turning further away and stumbling off the stool so quickly it began to tip over, taking his cane with it. Behind him you were quick enough to catch the stool, grabbing the edge before it could crash to the ground. His cane wasn’t so lucky, it hit the ground with a sharp clatter, skidding away.

“Sorry, sorry,” He muttered, still refusing to let you see his face. Without his cane he was forced to use the table to stay standing, exhaustion weighing him down

“Don’t apologize,” You said, voice still cautious. You took a few steps, scooped up his cane, and held the handle out for him to take. He balanced himself on it, stepping away from the table slightly,  “Viktor do you know what time it is? What are you doing here?”

“It’s late, I know, but,” He sighed, looking away and wiping at his eyes as you tried to step around to look at him, “I have to finish this lab. I should have done it before the game, I just…I don’t know. I came back here to do the last of them and…I fucked it up. I didn’t put the plates in the cold room, and it had been a couple hours. They were ruined. I had to start from scratch.

He could feel the panic resurfacing, his voice shaking. At the end of his words he covered his eyes with his hand, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose in an effort to keep tears at bay.

“Woah, hey, it’s fine. It’s fine. It’ll be fine,” You reached out for him, rubbing your hands over the tops of his arms, he finally relented to looking you in the eyes, “Vik, did you sleep at all today? You said you were up early. You’ve been awake for almost twenty-four hours,”

“I know,” His voice shook, trailing off, “But I have to get this done. It needs to be done.”

“Is it due tomorrow?” You gently pulled his hand away from his face, “I’ll help you finish it before class.

“You shouldn’t have to help me with my-”

“Are you saying you wouldn’t help me if I was in the same situation?” You cut him off, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Of course I’d help you, but-” He tried to argue.

“But nothing, Viktor,” You laid your palm against his flushed cheek, for once your skin was colder than his, “When is it due? Let me help you.”

He stared at you, trying to decide if he wanted to brush you off or fall into your arms. He didn’t know which would cause more damage in the long run.

“It’s due on Monday,” he told you, “I know I shouldn’t have waited so long to work on it. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

A sharp laugh from you surprised him. He looked up at you, your face in a look of disbelief and your hand on your forehead. You shook your head, then reached out, grabbed him by the face and kissed him chastely on the lips. So quick Viktor didn’t have time to respond, to retaliate, to ask for more. Instead his face flamed red, watching you with wide eyes as he floundered for words.

Your hands were still on his cheeks, face leaning towards his. You looked him square in the eyes, “I adore you, you anxious, brilliant, insane man.” He blinked at you, mouth agape, as you stepped around him and began to fuss with the items on the table, “Come on, let’s clean this up and go to bed. I’ll help you finish the lab tomorrow, okay?”

You didn’t wait for a response. You got to work breaking down the lab, instead, discarding ruined materials, running glassware to the sink, and gathering his notes in a neat pile. 

He tried his best to help, moving as quickly as his tired and aching body allowed. By the time he had rinsed and dried the few pieces of glassware, you had done everything else. He turned to find you holding his coat out to him and his backpack slung over your own shoulder. He took the coat from you and slipped it on.

“Let me just make sure I have my keys,” He said off handedly, searching the pockets.

“What for?” You raised an eyebrow at him, “Vik, it’s almost four am, it’s been snowing for hours, the plows aren't out yet, and you’re exhausted. No way am I letting you drive right now. You can crash in my room.”

You were already walking away when he tried to protest, “But Lest-”

“Is in Sky’s room, remember?” You pointed out, pushing up the lab door and holding it for him, “Now come on, I’m tired too.”

He obliged silently. The spark that raced up his spine and settled in his throat making it hard to speak. You waited for him at the door, letting him out first and hitting the lights behind him. The building was eerie at this time of night. Dark and empty and somehow louder than during the day. Every piece of equipment whirred idly, the vents thrummed, and without the ambience of the chatter of students and muffled sounds of lectures and labs.

Outside the air was cold and wet, but the snow had finally stopped falling. The entirety of campus was coated in a thick layer of snow. He hadn’t thought about snow when leaving the house this morning, he would have worn a thicker coat. Silently you trudged across campus, hand in his as the pair of you followed your solo footprints back to your dorm building. 

Viktor had never been in your room before. All the times he had met up with you in the lobby of the building or walked you back, he had never once made it inside. As you bustled around, he observed. Taking it all in, cataloging details. He didn’t know what he expected. He had never particularly imagined your room. When he thought about you in a bed, it was always his, never the half-lofted twin he was looking at now. A plain quilt, with random throw blankets piled on top and a well-loved stuffed bear tucked into the corner. Above your bed were posters and photos and flyers were plastered to the wall, enough that most overlapped with each other. A windchime made of shells was illegally hung from the ceiling, the air from the heater making clinking them together lightly. The sound of you shoving your chair back under your desk broke him from his observation. He looked up to catch you moving a textbook from your bed to your desk.

“Did you finish your reading?” He asked, awkwardly stepping further into the room. Lest’s side of the space looked like a tornado swept through a fabric store. No wonder she had opted to sleep at Sky’s, the bed was buried beneath half bolts of linen and lace.

“No,” You scoffed, “I started it but fell asleep.”

“Sorry for keeping you up,” He said, shifting nervously.

“Viktor, stop apologizing to me,” You said, looking at him sadly, “It’s fine, I want you to be okay, okay?” 

You didn't wait for a response, instead you walked past him. From your closet you pulled out your shower bag, a fresh toothbrush, a folded towel, and a bundle of clothes.  “Bathroom is down the hall to the left,” You told him, taking his coat from his hands, “Toothpaste is in the side pocket and feel free to use whatever else you want in there.” 

He nodded slowly and left without saying anything, exhaustion pulling down his shoulders.  

When he came back - not showered but face washed and teeth brushed and changed into a high school t-shirt of yours and sweatpants you said you stole from your father - he didn’t bother knocking. He expected to find you in your own bed, but instead turned to see you cozied up in Lest’s, the fabrics all dumped into a cardboard box. You had your textbook open on your lap and were scribbling notes into the margins. He looked back to your bed, tidied up and the stuffed turtle hidden away. Made up for him to sleep in.

He turned back to you and frowned, “So you hate me?”

“It’s a small bed,” You shrugged.

“I don’t need the space,” He insisted, blinking at you.

You sighed, but closed your book and set it to the side as you stood. He noticed you had changed into boxers and a familiar shirt.

“Is that my shirt?” He asked, voice still rough from earlier emotions.

“What? Oh, uh, yeah,” You glanced down at the shirt he had let you borrow months ago, then looked up at him sheepishly, quickly offering, “I can wash it and give it back to you this weekend.”

“No, no,” He shook his head, answering quickly, “It looks, um, you can keep it, I barely wore it anyways.”

That was a lie. The old camp shirt was a staple on his days off. He hadn’t noticed its absence, though, and liked knowing you were wearing his last name,

“Okay, good, because I didn’t really want to give it back,” You said honestly, then sat on the edge of the bed and looked up at him, “Inside or outside?”

“Either,” It was your bed after all.

“Fine, you get inside then.” You moved over, nodding for him to get into bed first.

He leaned his cane against your closet door and settled onto the edge of the bed, leaning over and unstrapping his brace. He winced as he flexed his now unconstricted limb. He could feel you watching him silently. He placed the brace next to his cane, climbed into your bed. 

He moved around until he was laying down, placing himself between your body and the wall. You tugged the blanket over the both of you as he settled in. 

You laid on your sides, facing each other. He let out a slow breath, feeling exposed to you in a way he hadn’t before. You reached up, gently brushing hair off of his warm forehead. 

You sighed, smoothing your fingers over his cheek, “Viktor,” You said gently, “Are you okay?”

Like anyone, this was enough to open the flood gates. He blinked at you, eyebrows pulling in and swallowing hard as his eyes welled up. He could feel how hot his own face was already. You ignored it and brushed your thumb over his trembling lower lip, before dragging your hand to the back of his neck, your nails scratching gently at the hair on his nape.

“I’m,” He tried, a half sob cutting him off. He turned, pressing his face into the pillow, “I’m sorry.”

“What for?” You watched him patiently.

“This is, uh, this is not very cool,” He admitted, voice muffled by the pillow. He could hear his own accent thicken as he worked himself up. He jerked with a weak laugh, “nor attractive.”

“Vik, really, what’s wrong?” You asked, brushing off his joke and sweeping his hair away from his temple.

He turned his face back to you, watching you watch him. You didn’t say anything, just waited. His eyes flickered across your face, searching for anything that made sense. Distaste? Irritation? A normal reaction to a weak man. Instead he found everything he gave to you, patience and adoration, returned in equal measure.

He sighed, rolled onto his back and stared up at your ceiling, “I’m just…tired.”

 It was like there was a stone in his chest. He felt heavy, every cell in his body weighed down. It didn't take more than a few seconds for his throat to become tight and hot tears to well in his eyes for the second time that night. This time they spilled over, racing down the sides of his face and wetting his temples. You placed your hand on his chest, rubbing soft circles against his sternum in time with your own breathing.

You waited a moment before urging him to go on, “Because of finals?”

“Yes and… I don’t know, I just,” He frowned, nose scrunching up as he fought for the right words, “Never mind.”

“Viktor,” You scolded gently, “Since when can’t you tell me something?”

He glanced over at you, eyebrows pulled together, and in the smallest voice you had ever heard from him he told you, “I miss my mother.”

The admission surprised even himself.

“Which is ridiculous,” He added with a hard scoff, “I’m an adult. I don’t need my mother. I should be fine without her.”

“That’s not true, Vik,” You shook your head, “There isn’t an age limit on missing your parent.”

“I feel so childish,” He said, eyes still wet, “Crying over wanting my mother. I chose to come here. This is where I want to be, but sometimes… I just feel so lost without her.”

 You reached up, guiding his chin to look over at you. He could see perfect empathetic tears welling in your own eyes, “Baby, that’s normal. You’re four thousand miles away from your home. It would be crazy if you were just…okay with that.”

He couldn’t come up with something to say, fully overwhelmed by his own emotions.  Instead he moved closer, looping an arm over your waist and pressing his face into the crook of your neck to hide his face as he truly began to cry. You held him close, fingers moving up and down his spine as you let him. Eventually, the soft sobs turned to tired breaths and he had soaked the collar of your shirt. He felt heavier and lighter at the same time, relaxing as he calmed down.

“Viktor,” You asked softly, “When was the last time you called home?”

“It’s been…a while,” He admitted, readjusting slightly and pulling you closer.

“Do you want to call your mom now?” You offered, voice hopeful, “I think it might make you feel better.”

“I don’t know…” He hesitated, craning his neck to look up at your face, “I don’t want to bother her.”

“Viktor, her kid is four thousand miles away from her,” You pointed out, raising an eyebrow “She would love to hear from you, I’m sure.”

You reached above your head to grab his phone off the counter, handing it over to him, You handed it over, “Call your mom, Viktor.”

He swallowed hard, sniffing back another round of tears then did as you told him to do. His mothers number was one of three favorited contacts and in no time his phone was ringing for her. While he listened to the trilling, he settled further into your bed and arms. He hooked his leg over yours and you held onto him, fingers brushing idly through his hair. 

“Ahoj, tady Sophie,” His mother answered, not looking at the caller id as usual.

“Dobré ráno, mami,” He hoped the crackle of her old cell covered the shake in his voice.

“Ach! Viktor?” She gasped, voice softening instantly, “Dobré ráno zlato moje. Proč jsi vzhůru tak brzy?"

Viktor sighed, “Nemohl jsem spát...jen jsem myslel na domov. Nevzbudil jsem tě, že?"

“Proboha, ne,” Sophie scoffed, “Je deset hodin ráno, kdo si myslíš, že jsem?"

“Nevím,” Viktor shrugged despite the fact that she couldn’t see him, “možná jsi zlenivěl, protože tam nejsem."

“Ach ano,” She laughed, he could hear her walking down the stairs, “rána byla mnohem klidnější, aniž bys rachotil kolem mého domu..”

“Jak se máš?” He already felt better, he regretted not calling her sooner, “Jak se má babička a děda?”

“Mám se dobře. Zaneprázdněný kostelem, je tu nový kněz, je to idiot,” In the background Viktor caught the sound of the kitchen radio and the coffee brewer that was older than him, he could picture her moving around doing a thousand things at once like she always did, “Zajet tu zatracenou věc do země. A ta kočka, kterou jsi krmil minulé léto, mě nenechá na pokoji. Následuje každý den celou cestu na autobusovou zastávku, mňoukám a mňoukám a mňoukám..”

“Miluješ ji, nelži” He laughed thinking about the scrawny calico stray he had taken care of. More than once he had caught his mom talking to her while she gardened.

“Ne, nenávidím ji. Tvůj dědeček ji miluje,” She insisted, he could tell she was smiling, “Krmí tu zatracenou věc každý den. Mimochodem, taky se jim daří dobře. Babička trochu upadla, ale už se dobře zotavila. Naštěstí jen s modřinou. Chybíš jim! Dnes jsou venku s kamarády, ale zavolej později a můžeš si s nimi promluvit.”

“Můžeš mi taky zavolat, víš,” He reminded her. Her lack of contact with him wasn’t out of malice or neglect, it was just who she was.

“Jsem si jistý, že jsi hodně zaneprázdněn studiem, nechci tě rušit,” She said, he heard the slide of a chair on the floor. In his head he could see her sitting in her usual spot, a black cup of coffee and the paper splayed out in front of her, glasses down the bridge of her nose, and phone pressed to her ear with her shoulder, “"Raději se soustřeď na studium. Ne večírkům a tak.”

“Nikdy matka” Viktor rolled his eyes, catching your free hand and idly playing with your fingers, “Všechno, co dělám, je učit se a chodit do třídy. Nic jiného.”

“Doufám, že lžeš, abys mě potěšil,” She deadpanned, “Nevychoval jsem nudného syna. Doufám, že těm Američanům děláš trochu problémy.”

“Ano, samozřejmě, už jsem byl zatčen třikrát,” He returned the serious tone.

“Dobře,” She huffed, then added, “a doufám, že i ty lámeš srdce.”

“Matka,” he scolded.

“Myslím to vážně, můj syn je hezký,” She insisted, “Ty americké dívky mají štěstí, že tě vůbec vidí.”

“Mami, přestaň,” He felt his face go red, embarrassed in a way only she could embarrass him.

“Proč? Máš přítelkyni?” She asked, he could see the look on her face.

“Ehm,” was the only way to respond.

“Jak se jmenuje?” Sophie asked with familiar enthusiasm, “Je hezká?”

Viktor debated for a moment, unsure how much he wanted to give away to his mother about something not set in stone, “Je nádherná,” He admitted, glancing up at you, eyes closed breathing slow, movement of your hands laced with his and fingers in his hair giving away that you were still awake, “Ještě není moje přítelkyně.”

“Ještě ne?” She scoffed, he heard the clunk of her coffee cup being set down, “Co to znamená?”

“Je to zodpovědná dívka,” He insisted, pressing his cheek back against your chest.

“Hm, a doufám, že jsi zodpovědný muž?” Her voice was wary, accusatory.

“Co tím myslíš?” He frowned, eyebrows pulling together.

“Jsem příliš mladý na to, abych byl babičkou, to myslím, Viktor,” She scolded.

“Matka!” He gasped.

She continued, “Poslouchej, já vím, že jsi chytrý kluk, ale-”

“Matka, přestaň prosím,” He was fully red now, nervously chuckling as he begged her to stop.

“Jen tě žádám, abys neotěhotněl s Američankou,” She insisted innocently.

“Mami, prosím,” He begged, hiding his face against you, he could feel you laughing at his reaction underneath him, fully unaware of what was being said, “Neplánuji nikoho v nejbližší době otěhotnět.”

More like ever, but she didn’t need to know that.

“No, plány ne vždy vyjdou tak, jak byste chtěli,” She defended, he heard the chair scrape against the floor as she stood.

“Já znám mami,” He scoffed, a yawn interrupting the sentence, “Já vím.”

“Věřím ti,” Sophie sighed, “Ale co bych to byla za matku, kdybych ti alespoň občas nenadávala.”

“Za co mi můžeš vynadat, mami?” He fought back another yawn, the feeling of your fingers at his temple pulling him under.

“Za to, že jsi během školní noci vzhůru do čtyř do rána,” She pointed out, “Teď jdi spát, dobře? Musím jít do práce..”

“Hm, dobře,” He nodded, “Dobrou noc mami, miluji tě.”

“Dobrou noc, můj dokonalý zodpovědný chlapče,” She cooed, “Miluji tě, slibuji, že zavolám víc.”

“Ty radši.”

After a reluctant beat the line went dead. He clicked his phone closed, the black screen reflected his tired face and your fingers moving idly above his year.

“Your voice is so pretty,” You hummed, voice soft with sleep, “I like it when you speak Czech.”

“Hm, that so?” He laughed, glancing up at you as he placed his phone back on the counter above your head. 

“Yes, keep talking to me.” You told him, lip curled up in a smile, eyes still closed. 

“Hm, jsi velmi zábavná dívka,” He told you, dragging a hand up over your waist, “Nevěděl jsem, že si můžu tak užít americkou holku.”

“American sounds so lovely in your mouth,” You sighed

“Ha, rád bych měl v puse Američana,” He joked, resisting the urge to bite at your soft flesh under his cheek.

“Keep going,” You urged.

“Zbývá třicet osm dní, než tě můžu pozvat na rande,” He wouldn’t admit to you that he checked that number every couple of days, “Jsem šokován, že se mi někdo tak líbí a... jsem si jistý, že se do tebe zamiluji..”

“Hm…what are you saying?” You muttered, he could tell you were fighting to stay awake at this point.

“Just facts.” He assured you, reaching up again to click off your lamp.

“Like?” You asked in the dark, voice barely audible. 

Viktor laughed softly at your persistence, letting out a sigh as he felt sleep begin to overtake his body.

“Like, the sky is blue.”

Chapter Text

A month away from the last day of classes and a full week after Viktor had fallen asleep in your bed, and you were on the verge of breaking. Every day, you slid closer and closer to the line. For days now, you had been turning the idea of just saying ‘Fuck It’ around in your head. You had kept the thought to yourself. Toyed with it. Weighed the pros and cons. And still came to no conclusion. 

The only saving grace was listening to your friends' problems. Like now, you were stretched out on a couch in the coffee shop on campus, listening to Jinx and Ekko talk about their fall break plans. They were arguing over the logistics of buying used music equipment.

“It’s a fucking steal, Ekko,” Jinx groaned, pacing behind the couch opposite you, “a bass like this goes for thousands, and this kid is selling it for a couple hundred!”

“Not really,” Jinx huffed, stopping behind where Ekko sat on the couch and crossing her arms. She waved a hand around as she tried to reason with him, “I mean, it’d be two days of driving, but we could make a trip of it. Take the van, go snowboarding at Blue Mountain? It’ll be fun…and I get a bass out of it.”

“Jinx.” He deadpanned, looking up at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Ekko,” She returned, looking down at him the same way. Then she stuck out her bottom lip, eyebrows pulled together as she pouted, “please. Please don’t make me go alone.”

He stared at her for a moment, gears clearly turning in his head. “Fuck!” Ekko groaned, tossing his hands up, “Fuck, fine. Yes, we can go to fucking Cleveland.”

“Why are we going to fucking Cleveland?” Viktor asked as he walked into the makeshift cafe living room.

You laughed, “We aren’t,” you inclined your head towards the couple, “they are. Because Jinx wants a bass. And because Ekko can’t tell her no.”

“That is not true!” Ekko defended, looking between you and Viktor. The both of you just stared back, blinking. Ekko groaned, “Fuck you guys.” and went back to working on his board.

You shook your head, looking back up at Viktor. His hair and the shoulders of his sweater were wet with snow. His cheeks and nose were flushed red from the cold, vivid against his pale skin.

“What’re you doing here?” You asked, doing your best to stamp down the heat in your chest, “I thought you were headed home after class.”

“Trying to get work done in the library,” he shrugged the straps of his bag off, “laptop’s dead, though…do you have yours?”

“I do. Get me a coffee, and I’ll let you steal it.” You joked, lifting the toe of your sneaker from the armrest and tapping his thigh with it.

“Already did,” he said, then swatted at your shoe, humming to get you to move. You huffed, pulling your knees in. He sat where your legs had just been, but when you moved to sit up, he stopped you. Instead of letting you drop your feet to the floor, he grabbed your shin, guiding your legs to lie across his lap. 

The motion was so casual. He barely even looked at you as he did it, still speaking to Ekko and Jinx about Cleveland while you short-circuited. You stared at the side of his face. Tips of his hair still wet, nose still red, beauty mark under his eye stark against his pale skin. He laughed, lips pulling back and giving you a flash of that crooked fang that you adored. Your eyes skimmed down to his hand, resting easily on your leg. His lithe fingers pulled absently at the frayed threads surrounding the hole worn into the knee. You didn’t realize you had floated away until the hand you were watching paused, fingers moving up just above your knee and squeezing. He was saying your name.

You flinched, blinking at him as you came back down to earth, “Sorry, what?”

“Hey there, space cadet,” he laughed softly, the smallest glint behind his eyes telling you he knew you hadn’t just zoned out on nothing, “can I have that charger?”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” you shook your head lightly, leaning over and disconnecting the charger from your own laptop. You held it out to him, then pulled it back, narrowing your eyes, “where’s my coffee?”

He rolled his eyes, then glanced over his shoulder. Turning to you with a smirk he said, “Right here.”

You followed his gaze to find one of the baristas walking over, a pair of mismatched coffee mugs in her hand. She had her eyes glued to Viktor, a pretty blush gracing her cheeks. Stepping in front of him, she gently handed over the mugs. If heart eyes were physically possible, she’d be sporting them.

“Here you go, Viktor,” his name came out soft and breathy, all the hopefulness in the world packed into the two syllables. 

“Dekuji, Donna.” He nodded, accepting the mugs with a polite smile. 

Donna’s smile widened, eyes barely blinking as she looked at him. She paused for a moment and then, with a pronunciation that wasn’t quite right, said, “Nemas zac…I’ve been practicing.”

“Ah, I can tell.” He raised an eyebrow, “Good job, Donna.”

She sucked in an excited breath, going to say something else when her eyes fell to Viktor’s hands as he passed you the second mug. Whatever she was going to say died in her mouth before it could come out. She blinked owlishly, looking between you and Viktor and your legs in Viktor’s lap. 

She frowned, then turned to you coldly, “Your shoes.”

“What about ‘em?” You asked, sipping at your drink.

“They’re on the couch,” she huffed, eyebrows furrowing, “your shoes are on the couch.”

“Oh, uh,” you panicked, the childish fear of being scolded flaring in your chest. Scolded by a freshman no less, you began to withdraw your legs, “yeah, sorry.”

“Oh, here,” Viktor cut in, drink set to the side as he leaned forward and stripped off his jacket. He laid it over the arm of the couch, tapping it to have you lay your feet back down, “sorry about that, Donna. Won’t happen again.”

He smiled at her politely. You wondered if he could tell that Donna didn’t actually give a fuck about the couch, or if he was truly just being sincere. 

“It’s, uh, it’s fine,” her shoulders slouched and she forced a smile, “see you later. I hope you have a good day.”

Donna very pointedly did not look at you when she said this.

You scoffed, watching as he took a sip of his coffee, humming in question around the rim of the cup.

“Since when did this place offer table service?” You smirked, handing over the end of the charger.

“She’s being accommodating," he shrugged, not meeting your eye as he balanced his laptop on your shins.

“Uh-huh, sure,” you nodded, leaning back onto the arm of the couch, “I’m sure you can expect those accommodations to end after this little display.”

“She’s already asked me out,” he said absently as he opened up his work, “I told her no, and she hasn’t stopped.”

“You didn’t tell me that,” you said, chewing on the inside of your cheek and pretending to be interested in the chipping polish on your nails.

“I didn’t think I needed to,” he said, turning to you, “she’s a freshman. There’s no chance I’d go out with someone so young.”

You spoke before you could stop yourself, “If she were our year, would you have said yes?”

Viktor let out a heavy sigh, glancing up at the ceiling and shaking his head. He turned to you, expression even, “What do you think?”

You pursed your lips, pretending to think for a moment before saying, “I don’t know,” and going back to your phone. You tried not to smile as you felt him staring at you.

“You two are the worst.” Jinx said from where she was now sitting next to Ekko, her nose scrunched in disgust.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Viktor insisted, turning his gaze to her.

“Okay, sure, whatever.” Jinx rolled her eyes, slouching down into the couch and crossing her arms, “Anyways, are y’all coming to the bar tonight?”

“Probably,” you shrugged, then glanced up at Viktor over the edge of your phone, “you?”

“Oh, yeah,” Viktor laughed awkwardly, “Jayce wanted me to remind you that it’s your turn to DD.”

“Booo,” you whined, then narrowed your eyes at him, “he had you ask me on purpose, right? He knows I’d bail if he texted me.”

  “Yes, exactly.” He nodded, “So…you’ll drive?”

“I mean, yeah,” you scoffed, “I’m not gonna be a dick.”

“Perfect,” Jinx said, clapping her hands together, “Sevika accidentally ordered ten bottles of Malort instead of two, and Dad wants it G O N E, gone. We get to drink as much as we want!”

You snorted a laugh and tipped your knee to the side, knocking him gently in the stomach, “Good luck with that.”

“Don’t insult me,” he scoffed, raising an eyebrow at you, “I’m not intimidated by American liquor.

The snow still hadn’t let up by the time you picked up the residents of the Rune Street house. Fat, wet flakes - more like frozen raindrops - muttered against your windshield and created a layer of slush on the ground. You didn’t bother leaving the safety of the warm cab to knock; instead, you called Viktor.

“Ahoj Mila,” he cooed, warm and soft, “you’re here?”

“Mhm, didn’t want to get out of the truck,” you told him, “are the others ready?” 

He scoffed, “No, I don’t think so.” His voice became muffled as he shouted for the others, a beat, and then he was back, “They say five more minutes.”

“Lame, you wanna come out to get front seat?” You laughed softly, “Mel and Cait will try to bully you and Jayce both into the back.”

“On my way,” you heard the door open on the other line just before he hung up. 

You looked up towards the front door to find him standing in the entryway. The lights from the house backlit him, casting a long glow across the wet front yard. As he made his way down the path, you leaned over, popping the lock to the door. A cold rush of air flooded the cab as he climbed in. 

“Sorry,” he said, assuring his cane was inside before yanking the door closed.

“It’s fine,” you laughed softly, moving your coat to your lap to make room for him next to you. He didn’t need to be told; he just slid into the space made for him. Subconsciously, you leaned closer, breathing him in as he pressed up against you.

“How are you?” He asked, brushing a strand of hair that was blown loose when he opened the door back in place, “Did you put makeup on?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, leaning into his palm, "Lest's mom came by to pick her up for break; she’s lovely but judgmental.”

“Ah, I see,” he laughed, “trying to impress your lover's mom?”

“Yeah, obviously,” you snorted, “no, just trying not to give her a reason to talk shit. She loves to say I look tired, whatever that means.”

“Hm, well,” he narrowed his eyes at you, gaze moving around your face, “she should have nothing to say. I’ve seen you tired, and you're as beautiful as you always are.”

“Suck up,” you rolled your eyes, trying to play off the way your breath hitched, “I don’t need you to call me pretty.”

“Ah, you love it, though,” he said, smirking, “every time I do, you get all spacey for a moment. You chew on your lip, try to look away from me. You’re beautiful, I know you don’t need me to tell you that. I tell you because I like it when you blush. I like that I make you blush.”

You swallowed hard, realizing how close he was. You could feel his breath against your lips. You could almost taste him as he crowded in on you. The heat from his body making you sweat. 

“That’s not fair,” you muttered, wanting nothing more than to kiss him. It’d be so easy, just the slightest lift of your chin and his lips would brush yours. It’s all the permission he would need to really kiss you. To kiss you like you know he wanted to.

“All’s fair,” he breathed out. 

You could feel the way his lips moved when he spoke.

Then he was gone. Pulling back half a second before the truck door was yanked open. The cold dropped you back to earth. You sucked in a sharp breath, whipping around to face the steering wheel. The way Viktor turned blocked your face from view of the others - intentional or not, it was appreciated. You blinked a few times, pulling yourself together before looking over Viktor’s shoulder.

“Took y’all long enough,” you said, “hurry up and get in. It’s fucking cold.”

“Why does Viktor get the front?” Jayce whined as he clambered into the back seat after Cait, “He’s shorter.”

“Because he was on time,” you told him.

“Yeah, I was on time,” Viktor repeated, raising an eyebrow at Jayce, “something you wouldn’t know about.” 

“Hey, it wasn’t my fault.” Jayce scoffed, “The girls were still getting ready.”

“Don’t lie.” Mel said, pushing the seat closed behind Jayce, “You were still getting dressed, too.”

Mel turned to Viktor and you, fake whispering, “He couldn’t decide which jeans he wanted to wear. The dark ones or the ones that make his ass look good.”

“Mel!” He gasped, then tried to defend himself, “That’s not- it was the color, not-”

“Don’t defend yourself to us,” Viktor said, holding his hands up, “how you want your ass to look is your prerogative."

You giggled, Viktor turned your way just slightly and winked. 

‘Well, which ones did you go with?” Cait asked from the seat behind you; you could hear the smirk in her voice.

“I mean, the ones that make my ass look good, obviously.” Jayce said, then leaned on the back of the seat, his chin wedged onto Viktor’s shoulder as he tried to look at you, “Thanks for driving.”

“Ha, it's the best excuse to get out of drinking Malort," you scoffed, putting the truck into drive and pulling away from the curb.

“Oh, it can’t be that bad,” Mel said, fidgeting with the heater.

“No, seriously, it’s awful.” You assured, eyes wide, thinking about the one and only time you had ever tried it, “Like, y’all need to prepare yourselves for the worst possible taste and then maybe it won’t be as bad as you think…maybe.”

“Actually, you can just bring me home,” Cait said.

“Too late,” you shrugged, “it’s already happening, you don’t have a choice.”

The warmth of the cab finally chased away the last of the cold air they let in, letting you relax better against Viktor. He placed a hand on his own thigh, fingertips ghosting against your leg every so often. 

The Last Drop was as warm and inviting as ever. A stark contrast from the bitter, wet cold that seeped past the layers of your jacket. Jayce held the first door. Viktor held the second, bowing his head slightly and holding eye contact as you passed. Just inside the door, there was a coat rack that nobody but your friend group ever felt comfortable using. The five of you stood around, wrestling off heavy jackets and knocking snow off your shoes. Viktor waited a beat, watching as you hung your coat before placing his over it on the same hook. 

He slung an arm over your shoulder, smirking down at you, “You won’t let me make a fool of myself tonight, yes?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” You laughed, walking with him into the bar.

Sevika was seated at the end of the short hall, looking bored and angry as usual. Despite the cold weather, she wore a thick t-shirt with the sleeves removed. Showing off one ridiculously muscular arm and one scarred and tattooed stump where the other used to be. Even after knowing her through two and a half school years, you’d never not be intimidated by the woman.

You smiled politely from under Viktor’s arm while she pretended to check IDs. Your entire friend group had their first legal drink in this bar, she knew how old everyone was. 

“You two are being quite obvious tonight, aren’t you?” Sevika scoffed, making a show of checking your license for the security cameras. You stiffened, trying to pull away. You weren’t surprised by the remark. You should have expected it. Sevika was the first to call Viktor your “little boyfriend” after the show on Jinx’s birthday, scoffing at you when you tried to say you were only friends. 

“Heard about your ordering mishap, Sevika,” Viktor teased as he handed over his license, ignoring the remark and tightening his hold on you.

You elbowed him in the side, “It’s too early for you to be a smartass,” you scolded.

He snorted, taking his license back and turning away.

“Yeah, listen to your little girlfriend, kid,” she huffed as you slid your license back into your wallet, following Viktor. She muttered something about not getting paid enough to put up with brats as the two of you made your way into the main bar.

You glanced up at Viktor, assessing the position you were in. This was innocent. This could be innocent. Jayce had his arm around Cait frequently, walking just like this. Granted, he and Cait had never had sex, but technically, no one knew that you and Viktor had either. Not for sure that was. Not that you knew of, at least.

“You’re tense,” he said, glancing down at you, a hand squeezing the ball of your shoulder.

“I’m fine,” you assured him, shaking your head.

“You know to ignore her,” he said, dropping his voice, “she’s just teasing.”

“Stop, I know. I’m not tense,” you insisted, doing your best to relax your shoulders.

He dropped his arm from you, “Better?”

The space where his arm had been felt ice-cold without it.

“I didn’t mind,” you insisted.

He didn’t make contact again. You had reached the back room where the rest of your friends were gathered. Now he’d just be touching you for the sake of it. The back of his hand brushed against yours. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

You let Viktor break away from you, watching as he greeted Ekko. Jinx and him were already deep into a game of pool. Whoever was stripes was losing badly. You let yourself fall into line with your friends. Grateful for the night with them before everyone fled home for a week.

It didn’t take long for the group to become thoroughly drunk. Vander had put a pause on the flow of liquor when Vi tried to stand on the pool table to fix a flickering lightbulb. Luckily, the door to the back room was closed by then, preventing his daughters from causing him too much public embarrassment. 

Viktor - who insisted that anything made in America paled in comparison to what was distilled in his home country - was more drunk than you had ever seen him. He was loud and boisterous and thoroughly enjoying the company of the other two men. Between drinks, the three of them - the scholars that they were - raved about the latest discoveries they had read about in their one shared class. Any meaning to their words was lost in the slur of alcohol. 

Luckily for you, Viktor was a beautiful drunk. A vision truly, with red cheeks and a smile that was only this wide when he drank. You loved seeing his teeth, loved the excited pitch to his voice as he jumped into conversation. The way he waved his hands, the way his accent grew so thick at times that you weren't sure if he was even speaking in English. The way every so often he’d turn to you with a smile so warm you were sure it was summer again. He’d place a hand on the back of your head and tip his forehead to meet yours. Telling you how drunk he was, how grateful he was for you, how pretty you looked. All quite enough for only you to hear. 

It all felt so… natural. Making sure he didn’t hurt himself in his fun, letting him compliment you and hold you close to him. All of it. It felt like you’d been doing this for years. You knew which way he’d tip if his cane caught on the old carpet. He knew not to crowd you immediately after taking another shot. Always waiting a respectable minute and washing the smell from his lips with a few sips of water before invading your space again. Even when he leaned against a low barstool, half sitting, and pulled you to lean against him. His arms wrapped around your waist from behind, breath warm against your shoulder as he murmured about a headache. Even in front of your friends, it felt fine. Normal. How it was supposed to be. For the second time that day, you wondered what the harm would be in moving that deadline from thirty days to zero.

“Do you want to get some air?” you asked, keeping an eye on the others. Jayce and Vi were playing a game of pool, shit talking each other while Cait and Mel cheered them on. Jinx and Ekko were slowly building a house of cards. Impressively four cards high, even with their drunk hands.

“Ano prosím,” he practically whimpered. You laughed softly at his dramatics, standing and turning to pull him up. 

He trailed behind you as you slipped out the back door. Even with the heaters sparked up and running, the back porch was vacant. You dragged a pair of chairs close to one, offering him the seat. When he sat, he let out a sigh, leaning his head back and feeling the cold air against his face. 

“Better?” You asked, smirking at his closed eyes and parted lips.

“Hm, much,” with his eyes still closed, he lifted a hand, holding it out for you to grab.

“What?” You laughed, taking his hand. He tugged you forward, pulling you down to sit in his lap. You gasped, trying to stand back up and frantically looking around, “What are you doing?”

“Just sit with me for a second,” he wrapped his arm around your waist and dropped his head to your shoulder. You slung your arm around the back of his neck, trying to keep your weight from fully pressing down on him, “Mila, relax, you’re not gonna hurt me.”

You huffed, “Why do you want me to sit in your lap so bad?”

He tipped his head back, cracking a toothy smile up at you. “I mean, if you’d rather sit on my face, you are more than welcome to.”

“Oh my god,” you gasped, fighting back a laugh and slapping your hand over his mouth, “Viktor, don’t say that.”

He laughed behind your hand, hand coming to grab your wrist as you hid your face against the side of his head.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he laughed, prying your hand away, “I’m sorry, it was too easy. I promise I wouldn’t have said that in front of people.”

“God, you are so drunk,” you huffed, face burning. You hated that you didn’t hate the teasing. You hated that it sent sparks down your spine. 

“Hm, very,” he nodded, pressing a kiss to the inside of your wrist, “thank you.”

“For?” You asked, letting yourself relax into him. 

He looked up at you with glazed eyes, reaching up and brushing a piece of hair back behind your ear, “For everything,” he said, voice soft.

“I’m going to get you water,” you insisted, only to keep yourself from kissing him. Again, you thought about your rule. Thought about if it was even worth bothering with at this point.

“If you must,” he sighed dramatically, laying a hand over his forehead.

You giggled, prying yourself from his grasp and standing up, “Don’t freeze while I’m gone.” 

“Yes ma’am,” he saluted with one hand and produced a pack of cigarettes from his pocket with the other.

Inside, you caught Mel and Cait whispering to each other, little glances thrown your way. You narrowed your eyes at them. The little gossips that they were.

“We’re gonna smoke outside if y’all wanna join,” you told them, raising an eyebrow. See, you thought, nothing happening out there at all…not really, at least.

“It’s too cold,” Mel grimaced, sitting up and shaking her head. She scoffed, “make it warm again, and we’ll join you.”

“Ha, yeah, I’ll get right on that,” you laughed, rolling your eyes at them before making your way into the main room of the bar. 

In the time that you had been secluded away in the back with your friends, the bar had filled up. There was a game of some kind on. Locals were crowded around tables, anticipation and nerves wavering off of them like heat as they watched the flatscreens. You squeezed through people. Bumping and mumbling apologies all the way to the bar top.

Vander met you, tossing a rag over his broad shoulders and leaning his palms on the varnished wood. Older men weren’t your thing…Except for Vander. Vander could fucking get it. 

“Hey, Kid,” he greeted, grinning down at you, “how’s it going back there?”

“Well, I’m cutting Vik off,” you laughed, “and the others are getting close to their limits, too, I’m sure. So if that’s an indicator.” You shrugged at him.

“I trust your judgment," he agreed, then raised an eyebrow, “how many bottles did you take off my hands?”

“Like, two and a half,” you told him, “a good portion of that did end up on the floor. That was Vi’s fault, I swear.”

He let out a warm laugh, rubbing a hand over his forehead, “Yeah, I don’t doubt that. Guess Malort is gonna be the special for quite some time.”

“How much do you buy the bottles for?” You asked him, tilting your head.

“Since we got them in bulk,” he sighed, “about 25 bucks a bottle.” 

“Fuck, you spent 500 dollars on Malort?” You gaped, “That…that’s rough. But hold on.”

He watched you curiously as you dragged your fingers on the bartop.

“Whatcha doing, Kid?” He laughed as you worked.

“Math, hold on.” You told him, holding up a hand and going back to your invisible calculations. “Okay, a suggestion if you're willing. Buck Fifty Malort shots. You could, at a minimum, make back what you spent, plus a couple of extra bucks a bottle. Or, if you do shots for two bucks, you’d make about 9 dollars a bottle and wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore.”

He blinked at you, glancing down to the bar like you had actually written on it and then back to you, “You need a job, Kid?”

“Ask me again in the summer," you laughed, “also, that was very simple math. Isn't your husband a business professor? You don’t need me, of all people, to solve Malort problems.”

“He is, and I keep him out of bar business,” Vander told you, “man’ll work himself to death if I let him.”

“I don’t doubt that,” you had heard from Vi and Jinx about how both their fathers were hard workers to a fault. 

“What’re you getting to drink, Kid?” Vander asked, hands going back to the bar, “On the house in exchange for your ideas.”

“Thank you, but I’m driving tonight. I’ll remind you next time, though,” you laughed, “but could I just get a glass of water? No ice.”

“No ice?” Vander asked you, raising an eyebrow, “Tap doesn't get too cold, are you sure?”

“It’s for Vik, he doesn’t like ice,” you explained, then shrugged, “it’s also freezing outside, he won’t notice.”

“Ah, I see,” he drawled, nodding to himself as he pulled a glass off the shelf.

“You too?” You scoffed, rolling your eyes, “Does anybody in this town mind their business?”

“I own a bar,” he shrugged, holding the glass below the tap, “I couldn’t mind my business even if I wanted to.”

You rolled your eyes, taking the lukewarm glass from him. “Keyword if?”

He nodded, “Key word if.”

You both laughed as you turned away from the bar. Working here wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. You wondered how flexible Vander would be with the hours, If it were something you could do while going to school to get some extra cash. All the summer internships you were looking into didn’t pay well, if they paid at all. You cringed to yourself, deadlines for those applications were going to be due at the start of next semester. You should ask them how their applications are going. 

You were lost in thought about application deadlines and where your friends may end up over the summer. So lost, you didn’t notice the body in front of you until you were already smacking into it. You hissed an apology as you recovered your balance, luckily only spilling a few drops of water. 

You wished you could retract the ‘sorry’ as soon as the person turned around. A face you knew far too well turned to look down at you. Your stomach dropped, and adrenaline flooded your body as soon as you made eye contact.

Aaron.

Your ex-boyfriend, Aaron.

Knew everything about you, Aaron.

Has met both your parents, Aaron.

Aaron, who you loved years ago.

Aaron, who you fucking hate now.

Aaron, who, despite the fact that he was the one who broke up with you, smiled like you hung the stars in the sky when he saw you. You saw his lips form your name. His teeth were still perfect. One was a veneer. He had knocked it out skateboarding at fourteen. You’d never be able to tell. 

Despite the proximity, his voice didn’t reach you. Everything else was louder. The crowd. The music. The TVs. Your own blood rushing through your ears.  You blinked up at him as he continued to speak to you, clearly not catching on to the fact that you weren’t pleased to see him. It wasn’t until his hand came to rest on your shoulder that you were able to move. 

You jerked away from his hand as if the contact alone burned you, managing a few steps backwards. You could feel your mouth move, but were sure you weren't saying anything coherent. Anything other than ‘no’. You didn’t even see his reaction to yours before you were practically running away. Taking a long arc around him, you made your way towards the room where your friends were.

You walked on shaky legs to the back door as it all came rushing back to you. The study dates that always ended with you under him in his twin bed. The projects you did together. The saved seats. The days when you’d ditch. The night, three days before the final in your only shared class. The three days of crying so hard, Lest and Mel almost called your dad to pick you up. The failing grade on your final test because how the fuck were you supposed to focus with the boy who said he ‘fell out of love with you’ five feet away. 

You looked down at the glass in your hand. The water inside too warm without ice to wet the outside. Here you were, doing it again.  Risking it again. You had one rule for yourself, and you were fucking it all up. You had let yourself create loopholes, particulars with terminology, and ambiguous behavior as if that was any better than calling it what it was. As if it were the labels that were going to break your heart and ruin your GPA. 

You steadied your breath as you reached the back door. You were being childish. You were being weak. You felt shame creep up the back of your neck, embarrassed by your lack of self-control. 

You found Viktor exactly where you left him. Leaning back in the metal chair and breathing out smoke. You didn’t let yourself look at him for longer than a second. Instead, you bypassed his open arms, setting the glass of water down on your way to the other side of the table. The cold metal of the chair bit through your clothes, uncomfortable even through the layers of fabric. You crossed one leg over the other, hands in your lap.

“Mila?” You swallowed hard at the sound of his voice, finally looking up at his face, “Why are you so far away?”

“What are you talking about? I’m right here?” I’m not your girlfriend, Viktor. We aren’t together. I can’t sit on your lap, I can’t kiss you. I can’t be weak.

“Well, you should be here.” He held a hand out to you, “Come here.”

“No,” you shook your head, “I’m fine here.”

“Mila, are you okay?” He tilted his head. You could tell he was still drunk, but was sobering up, “Is something wrong?”

“No, everything is fine.” Nothing is fine.

“Mila, wh-” he tried.

“Stop calling me that!” You snapped, cutting him off, “You said you were fine waiting for me, and you haven’t been waiting. I can’t date you. You know that. I told you that.”

He stared at you, eyebrows pulled down and mouth in a flat line.

“Fuck you.” The words were laced with hurt, less angry than you’d expect.

“What?” You flinched, gaping at him.

“Fuck. You.” He said, slow and measured, before pushing himself to stand. He trembled as he rose to his feet, alcohol and emotion throwing him off balance, “You are such a hypocrite.”

“Excuse me?” You stood as well, skin simmering with defensive anger.

“Why are you doing this to me? Fuck,” your name fell from his lips like a cherry pit - sweet until it wasn’t, “what am I to you?”

You blinked at him, “You’re my friend.”

“Really? I’m your friend?”  His voice broke on the word, “Because this isn’t how I’d treat a friend.”

“Vik, I-” you felt your throat tighten up.

“Don’t fucking Vik me,” he snapped, voice rising, “I don’t fucking understand. Tell me, why is it fine for you to kiss me when you're drunk? To lie in my bed and practically beg me to fuck you. But when I want you, it’s a problem? Do you only want me when you drink? Is that what it is? Because that’s what it seems like.”

“That is not true,” you growled, fists tightening at your side.

“Isn’t it? Every time you drink - Halloween, Jinx’s birthday, fuck even that day on the water,” He listed, face hard as he stared you down, “I’m sick of wasting my time. I’m sick of being your drunk decision.”

You felt your bottom lip waver, biting down to hide it and nearly choking as you tried to speak, “Wasting your time…”

Despite your best efforts, tears spilled over. Instantly, Viktor froze, eyes going wide as he caught sight of the silent tears rolling down your cheeks and dripping down your chin.

“No, Mila,” he gasped, trying to take a step towards.

“Stay away from me,” you yelped, stumbling back.

You stared at the ground as you rushed past him, his voice calling after you. The heat inside nearly suffocated you as you pushed the door open. Mel was already there on the other side, so close you almost smacked her with the door. Concern was all over her face, eyes wide and hands out as she tried to approach you. You shied away, a sob catching in your throat as you tried to get out. 

Your vision was a watery blur as you stumbled through the bar. Dodging people, ignoring concerned voices. You snagged your jacket from its hook, folding it over your arm as you made it to the gravel parking lot. You were burning up, hot everywhere in the worst way. A heat you couldn’t escape.

You didn’t realize that you had been crying out loud until Mel grabbed you by the shoulders, spinning you around and begging you to breathe. 

“Please, honey,” she begged, hands wiping the tears from your face, “please, you’re going to faint. I need you to calm down. What happened?”

You tried to do what she asked, sobs still racked your body as you shook your head. She pulled you into her arms, cradling you against her shoulder.

“It’s fine, it’s going to be fine,” you could hear her voice shaking.

“I…I want to go home,” you told her, forcing the words out.

She pulled away, hands on your shoulders as she nodded, “You can go home, honey. I’ll get us an Uber home or something. Just breathe for me, I’m not letting you drive until I know you're not gonna steer yourself into a ditch.”

She took a long breath in, you did your best to mimic. After a couple of solid inhale exhales, she dropped her hands, “Do you want me to come with?”

You shook your head, pulling your keys from your jeans pocket. She nodded, giving a sad smile and stepping away, allowing you to walk away to your truck. You didn’t let it warm up. Just turned it on and pulled out of the lot. The cold finally reached your muscles. You shivered as your truck tried to cough up as much hot air as it could with a cold engine. You reached for your jacket in the passenger seat, regretting not putting it on. You had tossed it to the side in your haste to get away. 

It took less than a second for you to realize that your jacket was still hanging on the hook back at The Last Drop. Instead, Viktor’s coat was lying across your lap. Cold and soft and far, far too familiar. A fresh round of sobs seized your body. Your vision blurred, forcing you to pull off the road. You cried in your parked truck until you couldn’t anymore. 

You, like most people, moved faster than Viktor. Not held back by femoral anteversion or a hip to ankle brace, or a cane that more often than not slipped on snow and ice. He called your name, the type of adrenaline that comes with a really bad fuck up, making the muscles in his chest tighten up. He slipped, cursing whatever there was left to curse as he caught himself on the edge of the table, the cold metal biting into his palm. 

He realized as he took another off-kilter step, that not only did you have the physical advantage in the moment, you also had the sober one. By the time he made it to the back door, you were gone. Swallowed up past the door of the main bar. Viktor huffed, a hand on the door frame, and realized that all of his friends - aside from you and Mel - were staring at him with wide eyes.

He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He didn’t know what to say. Even if he did know what to say, He couldn’t remember how to say it in a way they’d understand. Too drunk, too angry, too scared to figure out how to turn Czech to English.

“Viktor…”Jayce spoke, voice cautious as he stepped closer.

Viktor avoided his hands, taking an awkward side step around Jayce. Unable to look anywhere except towards where you might be. He moved through the crowded bar. By the time he finally pushed his way out to the parking lot, you were gone. Only Mel stood in the gravel, shivering with her arms crossed over her chest. He couldn’t even see your taillights on the road.

“What the fuck is going on?” Jayce asked from behind them as he pushed out the front door. 

Viktor swayed on his feet. Lights around him blurred as the sky began to spin. He blinked, only realizing what his body was doing when it was already too late. Doubling over, he retched. Gagging up all of the nasty midwestern liquor onto the gravel. He heard Jayce curse from behind him, footsteps crunching as he jogged up to Viktor. He watched as red began to drip down his face, mixing with the stomach acid on the ground. Only a beat, and the drip was a flow, streaming onto the ground. He barely had time to reach for Jayce before the ground was rushing up to meet him.

You had planned to stay on campus for most of fall break. To study, work on finals, and… spend time with Viktor. But without the latter, the others didn’t really seem worth it. So instead, you frantically packed. Thanking God that Lest wasn’t there to witness the pitiful display, or attempt to talk you out of making the four-hour drive in the middle of the night. You haphazardly shoved what you needed into a duffel bag, deciding whatever you forgot you could buy or steal from your dad. 

When you made it back to your truck, you hopped in and drove away before you had the chance to hesitate. You knew you should tell someone, Mel or Jayce, or even your dad. You knew whoever you texted would try to talk you out of it. There was only one person who’d actually be able to change your mind, and he had just told you to fuck off.

When Viktor woke up in a bed instead of on the ground, he had one thought first. I hope to God Jayce didn’t carry me here. He blinked up at the lights above him. Something was familiar about them; blinding light from his childhood. These lights weren’t blinding. They were dimmed low, but they weren't soft, still sending a sharp sting to the center of his brain. He closed his eyes, trying to gather information without sight to determine where he was. Funnily enough, he instantly recognized where he was with his eyes closed. The metronome of heart monitors and hum of machinery. The smell of antiseptic and cleaning solutions doing their best to erase bodily fluids. The clamp of a pulse oximeter on the index finger of his right hand. The cold plastic of the cannula under his nose and against his cheeks. He’d been to the ER plenty of times as a child. It had been years, though, since an unplanned hospital visit. 

He listened to his own heartbeat, steady as he knew it should be, and forced himself to open his eyes. A curtain the color of sunbleached Scheele’s green to his left, and to his right, Jayce. It always shocked Viktor when Jayce managed to make himself look small, and right now, he looked tiny. Normally broad shoulders, hunched, his elbows resting on his knees, and face buried in his hands. Slow breaths, raising and lowering the curve of his spine.

“Jayce?” Viktor’s voice came rough and dry.

“Viktor!” The other man gasped, head jerking up. His eyes were rimmed with red, handsome face puffy with tears. He stood quickly, taking a step towards Viktor, hands outstretched like he was approaching a wounded animal.

A wounded animal. Viktor resisted the urge to laugh.

“I’m fine.” He tried to wave him off, hand held back by monitors.

“You are not fine, Viktor.” Jayce shook his head, eyes wide and corners of his mouth pulled down in disapproval, “What is going on? What the fuck was that?”

“Jayce, please.” Viktor brought the free hand up to cover his eyes, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

He could hear the way Jayce recoiled, the shuffle of the chair as he dropped his weight back down, “I’m sorry, I just…I don’t know what’s happening.”

“Neither do I.” Viktor scoffed, taking his hand off his eyes, his words only partially true, “I did just wake up, remember?”

“Fuck, man, I’m sorry.” Jayce slumped back in the chair, “You’re right.”

“I normally am.” Viktor joked, smirking at him.

“Do you remember… anything?” Jayce asked, looking at him expectantly.

Viktor thought for a moment. He could remember the look on your face that shattered his insides to a thousand pieces. He remembered you rushing past him. He remembered the feeling of gravel against his face. He reached up, touching the right side of his forehead and, sure enough, found a row of butterfly bandages holding split skin together.

“I remember up to this, I guess.” Viktor told Jayce, “I’m assuming someone drove me here? What time is it?”

“It’s two in the morning,” Jayce told him, and then cringed as he admitted, “we called an ambulance.”

Viktor blinked at Jayce, letting out a heavy sigh, “You called an ambulance because I fainted?”

“No,” Jayce said firmly, “we called an ambulance because you threw up, started bleeding from your nose, passed out, and split your damn forehead open. All while we were too fucked up to drive you here ourselves and trying to figure out why our designated driver left crying.”

“I’m sorry,” Viktor pushed his head back against the paper-thin pillow, heels of his hands digging into his eyes until he saw colors that weren’t there, “fuck, I’m sorry... I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.”

“Viktor, stop.” Jayce tried, “C’mon, V. It’s fine, please.” Jayce stood, reaching over and grabbing Viktor’s wrists. He pulled his hands away from his face, looking down at Viktor.

“V, please, man, please just tell me what’s going on.” Jayce begged, “No one is upset with you. Either of you. We just want you to be okay.”

Viktor let out a shaky breath, trying to keep himself from crying again. The way Jayce looked down at him was heartbreaking. He hadn’t seen that look since they were both teenagers. Since the last time Viktor had a complete and total breakdown. Since the first time Jayce was worried what Viktor would do to himself.

“Jayce,” He choked out his name, “J, I really fucked up, man.”

Hours after you left campus, the headlights of your truck finally swung across the front of your childhood home. Wet gravel crunched under your tires as you pulled into the vacant spot beside your dad’s truck. When you shut the truck off, you sat for a moment in the dark. It was a concerningly warm November; instead of snow falling softly against the roof of the cab, it was rain. Tapping, even and gentle, against the metal. Your grip tightened on the steering wheel, eyes squeezed shut as you told yourself this was the right thing to do. That space was what you needed. That space would fix this.

Without letting yourself spare a glance at the stolen jacket next to you, you slipped out of the truck. Hauling your bag over your shoulder and moving quickly through the cold rain to the front door. As you stuck the key into the lock, a recurring nightmare from your first year of college came flooding back to you. One where you’d come home at some random time of day to find your dad's truck gone and your key not matching the locks on the door. 

Luckily, this was a different kind of nightmare. So your key worked, letting you into the home that was so familiar that its unfamiliarity made your chest ache. You closed the door, holding the latch to keep it from clicking loudly into place, and toed off your wet boots. Despite your attempt at stealth, a muffled woof came from the back of the house. You froze, cringing as you waited for the dog to hopefully fall back asleep. No luck. After another soft bark, the door to your father's bedroom creaked open, followed by the sound of nails clicking against the hardwood floors. 

The big long-haired mutt came bounding up to you in the dark. Tail wagging so hard it pulled her hips back and forth. She turned, leaning her heavy body against your legs. 

“Hi Sadie,” you whispered, hands in her fur as she bounced around, “good girl, I missed you too.”

Your dad’s voice was filled with sleep and confusion as he spoke your name from the dark. You looked up at him, barely able to make out his broad form.

“Hey,” you said, voice shaking as a fresh round of tears threatened to spill, “I’m sorry, I should have called.”

“No, Buddy, don’t apologize,” he said, walking over and wrapping you up in his arms without hesitation, “what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

That question was enough to tip the tears over the edge. A sob tore itself from your throat as you buried yourself against your dad's chest. You felt like a kid again. Small with big feelings. Running back to your dad, unable to get words out amidst the tears.

He rubbed a hand over your back, holding you close like he did back then. Gently, he ushered you towards the couch. Helping you sit and settled himself next to you. He pulled away, smoothing your hair out, the other hand on your tired face, wiping away tears.

“Shh, baby, please,” He hushed, “can you tell me what's happening? You’re scaring me a little bit.”

Sadie hopped up onto the couch next to you, settling her head against your thigh with a gentle whine.

“See, Bud, even Sadie’s worried about ya.” He told you, hands moving up and down your arms.

“I-” You tried, clearing your throat when the words stuck, “I fucked up so bad, dad, I really did.”

He sat back more, hands cupping your jaw and looking in your eyes. Your eyes that were his.

“Is someone dead?” He asked.

You blinked at him, taking in a shaky breath and shaking your head ‘no’.

“Okay, good, are the police after you?” He asked, hint of a smile pulling at the corner of your lips.

You sniffed, shaking your head, “No.”

“Okay, good, that’s good.” He nodded, then paused, a nervous look crossing his face. He pulled in a slow breath through his nose, blinking once before asking with a cautious voice, “Are you pregnant?”

You let out a wet laugh, dropping your head against his shoulder, “God, no.”

He sighed in relief, hand coming to the back of your head, “Thank god. See, everything else we can handle. Honestly, we could handle all of those, too.”

“You could handle me being pregnant?” You teased, not a doubt in your mind that he would.

“Of course, Buddy,” He assured, “it wouldn’t be ideal, but I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.”

“Good to know,” You sniffled again.

“That isn’t an encouragement to get pregnant, by the way,” he said, head resting on your chin. You laughed, eyelids getting heavy with sleep, “I’m too young to be a grandfather, give me another five years at least.”

“Only five years?” You laughed.

“Don’t want to be too old,” he said, “someone’s gotta teach them to fish, and Lord knows you couldn’t teach a dog to dig.”

“Rude.” You said around a yawn.

“It’s two AM, buddy,” he told you, “you wanna get some sleep? You can explain what the hell is going on in the morning.”

“Yes, please.” You nodded as he stood, hands outstretched for him to haul you off the couch.

“Want Sadie?” He asked, leading you down the hall, the big dog trailing behind.

“Sure,” You stepped into your room, exactly as you left it months ago, only colder and staler. 

“‘Kay, Buddy,” he held the door open for Sadie, who trotted in and hopped up on the foot of your bed, “sleep tight, love you.”

You nodded, “Love you.”

He closed the door behind him. You didn’t waste a second in stripping off your jeans and old socks, your bra pulled from under your t-shirt. As soon as you climbed into bed, Sadie crawled up closer. Chasing away the cold and letting you hold onto her as you fell into a restless sleep.

Jayce sat quietly as the doctor broke the news that Viktor was anemic. The disease, on top of the anxiety, alcohol, and panic Viktor had experienced, caused him to faint. Luckily, it was mild. Nothing supplements and attention couldn’t handle. When the doctor dubbed Viktor good to go after some paperwork was filled out, Jayce stopped being quiet.

Viktor sighed as Jayce asked again, “What’s going on?”

“You heard him,” Viktor deflected, frowning down at the pages stacked on a clipboard, what seemed like a hundred empty boxes begging to be filled in, “I’m anemic.”

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about.” Jayce said.

“How are we getting home?” Viktor asked, scribbling his information into the boxes, using his regular swooping handwriting in protest of having to fill it out at all.

“Mel and Cait dropped off my car.” He said.

“I’ll tell you on the way home,” he said, looking up and around the room, “can we just get out of here first?”

“Fine,” Jayce huffed, then stood and grabbed the clipboard from Viktor. He separated out half the stack of papers and gave the rest back to him, “Let me help. Damn thing needs the same information a hundred times over. I know your name, we live at the same address, and I have your phone number memorized.”

Jayce began rifling through the drawers built into the wall. Searching until he found an extra pen to fill out the papers with. 

“You have my number memorized?” Viktor asked, pen stalling on his page.

“Of course I do,” Jayce shrugged, not looking up from the papers, “yours, Mels, and my mom's.”

Viktor hummed to himself, drugged up and overwhelmed with emotions and doing his best not to let the small fact make him cry again. He made a mental note to thank Jayce for being a good friend. He was sure he didn’t do it enough.

With Jayce’s help, the paperwork was wrapped up, and they were on the road home before three. In the car, Viktor spilled his guts - metaphorically this time. He told Jayce everything. That first night in the garage. The lack of a proper introduction. You showing up in his class. You turning him down. All the moments since then. His long-term plan to ask you out as soon as classes were done. How he was sure he fucked it all up tonight. How he felt like he was being sucked through a black hole when he made you cry.

For the first time, probably in his life, Jayce sat in silence. Viktor watched his face as he finished speaking, trying to understand what he might be thinking. Jayce opened his mouth, words poised on his tongue, before his jaw snapped shut. He took another breath, blinking ahead at the road.

“So, are you…” Jayce said nervously, afraid to say it, “Do you think you’re…”

Viktor dropped his face into his hands, voice muffled as he responded, “Yes. Without a doubt.”

Jayce let out a low whistle, “Fuck, man.”

Viktor groaned, shaking his head, still buried in his hands.

“Does she…feel the same way?” Jayce asked, still dancing around the terminology.

“I have no idea!” Viktor yelped, voice cracking as he tossed his hands up, “I mean, up until tonight, I’m sure she felt something. Even if it was half of what I felt, it was enough. Now, though? I wouldn’t be surprised if she hates me.”

Jayce scoffed, “She doesn’t hate you. Trust me.”

“How can you be so sure, Jayce?” Viktor huffed, sending a sad look towards Jayce.

“If she hated you, she would’ve hit you.” Jayce assured him, glancing over and catching Viktor’s dubious look, “I’m serious, three years of knowing her and she only hates a handful of people. All of which she made very clear with an impressively solid right hook.”

“So you’re saying I didn’t completely fuck it up?” Viktor asked.

“No, not yet,” He shrugged, “just talk to her. It’ll be fine. Everything will be fine.”

Viktor leaned his head against the cold glass of the window, watching the rain slide along the glass. He hoped Jayce was right. That he actually knew you well enough to know that a conversation would fix this.

You were relieved to find that retreating to your hometown wasn’t a horrible idea. Your dad babied you over the weekend, and you let him. He cooked for you, brought you coffee, let you have control of the TV, and most importantly, didn’t pry. He took ‘a fight with a friend’ as a good enough answer over breakfast on Saturday morning. He didn’t question why you had shut your phone off and hid it in the kitchen drawer. He didn’t say anything when you’d get teary and try to hide your face. Instead, he’d just pull you closer, hold you like you were ten again, and let you cry.

Best of all, he knew when to stop babying you. Monday morning, he shook you awake, asking for an extra pair of hands out on the boat. You didn’t waste a second in falling into the familiar routine. Dressed in warm clothes with bitter coffee, swaying sleepily in the passenger seat of your dad's truck on the way to the harbour. The overexcited greeting from the crew that had known you since you were an infant. The less enthusiastic greetings from the rookies who were wary of a young girl they hadn’t met. 

It came so naturally, the work you’d been doing since you were a teen. It felt like slamming the reset button. Final papers and relationship status, and designated drivers all fell to the wayside. Instead, it was about hauling lines and sorting fish and proving going away to university hadn’t made you soft. Most importantly, you were completely cut off from anything on land. Cell service was non-existent this far out. You didn’t even bother to bring your phone. 

You had sent a cursory well-being text to Mel, assuring her that you had made it home safe and would be back in Piltover on Monday. She had tried to ask for details of what happened, you pretended not to see the text. Just like you pretended not to see the several missed calls from Viktor. Your brain couldn't land on what to feel, so you did your best to feel nothing. 

It was easy, in the stress and work of the boat, to forget about him. Easy until crew members you hadn’t seen in months asked if you had a boyfriend. Easy, until the young bucks who didn’t catch on that their captain was your father started hitting on you. Easy until one of the girls you went to high school with brought Viktor up. 

“Is that the new guy you post your boyfriend or what?” She had asked, tone playful and teasing. She flinched when you snapped a harsh no and stormed off. Luckily, she accepted the embarrassed apology you offered during downtime.

When the day was done, your dad made up plans as everyone packed up to head to the bar. Insisting you go on ahead and catch up with everyone. That he’d see you at home. You had been to the bar after work with your dad plenty of times, but he wasn’t dumb. He knew you were freer without him hovering around. That you’d drink more, dance more, probably flirt more, too, when he wasn’t around. He trusted the others to keep you safe and in line. 

You hesitated when one of the young bucks, who introduced himself as Charlie, offered you a ride to the bar. You stood to the side as he threw clutter from the front seat of his shitty Toyota Corolla to the back. During the ride, you came to several conclusions about Charlie. He was sweet. He was handsome. He was boring. He would suffice. You let him buy you drinks and pull you into swing dances out on the floor. You smoked a cigarette with him in the parking lot, let his hands slide down your back. You let your blood fill with enough alcohol to make all decisions seem like good decisions. You let Charlie press you to the cold bricks of the outside of the bar. You let him kiss you, and you let yourself imagine you were kissing someone else. You let him go as far as a hand under your sweater. When he pressed his thigh - too wide to belong to the man you were imagining was kissing you - between your legs, you gently pushed him away. Some comment about it being late slipping past your lips.

When he drove you home, he didn’t get the door for you. Instead, he leaned in for a kiss that you pretended not to notice. 

“Goodnight, Charlie.” You said opening the passenger side door.

“Goodnight,” he said steal leaning towards you, then he sighed and said your name.

“Yeah?”

“I wasn’t going to say anything, but,” he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “I gotta know, who’s Viktor?”

Your heart seized up. Without responding, you stepped out of his car and shut the door behind you. Not looking back as you walked up the drive. You hadn’t made it to the door before you heard tires crunch over gravel as he pulled away.

That was the only day you worked on the boat that week.

On Monday, when the time came for Viktor to drop off Jayce and Mel for their trip to visit Ximena, whatever semblance of composure he had was beginning to crack. It had been over forty-eight hours since he had heard from you. Over thirty-six since you apparently told Mel you were home safe in Winter Harbour. Jayce asked repeatedly if Viktor wanted to join them in Texas. ‘Mom would love to see you’ is what he kept saying, and as much as Viktor would also love to see Ximena. The idea of anyone seeing him in the state he was in made him want to bury himself.

The last time he slept for more than two hours straight was in the hospital after fainting. It would be easier without Jayce home. He wouldn’t have to pretend to be okay. Alone, he could wallow in peace. No one would be there to ask if he’d taken his meds or had water today. As much as he appreciated the concern, right now all he wanted to do was wallow in peace. So, when Viktor idled in the departure lane at the Boston Logan International Airport, he had no problem lying to Jayce about his well-being. He’d be fine. He just needed a couple days of not being fine, first.

Instead of heading North on the 95, Viktor detoured south. You always told him how bad Boston traffic was, how you’d prefer to spend money and wait for the bus rather than drive. Viktor never found that to be a problem. He didn’t mind traffic, never had. He found it soothing in a way. Having something to focus on, like roundabouts and one-way streets. He had always pictured that a drive through Boston would include you in the passenger seat. Instead, it was just him, a tab of molly, and a ticket to the Museum of Fine Art.

The cold November Monday wasn’t particularly busy, still, he popped the tab in the safety of his car. He timed the onset of the high, only starting to feel the effects once he was well into the gallery. He took slow steps, finding himself admiring the intricate frames more so than the paintings within. He had to hold back a laugh when he came face to face with John Brewster, Jr’s Child with a Peach. The figure's blue eyes seemed too intelligent for the composition. He stared at the painting, amused at the uncanniness of it. He could imagine you next to him, a soft elbow into his ribs as you held back a laugh. Your quiet voice telling him to get it together as your teeth clamped down on the inside of his cheek. 

Imagining you in that moment was a mistake. Once the vision of you was in his head, you wouldn’t go away. He began to see you everywhere. In the casual lean of the figure in John Singer Sargeant’s A Capriote, in the deep, cold colors of Edward Steichen’s Moonlit Landscape, and the curved body in William Merritt Chase’s A Modern Magdalen. The woman’s bare figure drew him in. The tired rest of her head against the back of her hand. The way she curled in on herself. Bare and bold and yet still hiding yourself away. Shielding yourself from… whatever it was that you were so afraid of. 

He let himself view you in her figure. Let himself think about you. The exposed back of her neck, the slope of her shoulder, the swell of her breast. All the way down to the delicate shape of feet. One ankle hooked over the other. His fingers twitched, the desire to touch burning over his nerves. He wanted to feel your skin under his hands. The fascia ligament, taut under the skin of your soles. The ball of your ankle. The soft skin behind your knee. He wondered if you’d flinch and laugh if he touched you there. He wondered if he’d ever get the opportunity to find out. He pictured dragging his fingers up the sides of your legs, pressing his face against your hip. He imagined the blush across your body as he nosed against the crease of your thigh, breathing in the scent of you. 

The sharp smack of an object hitting the floor broke him from the daydream. He looked behind him to find a woman on the other side of the room, sheepishly picking up her cellphone that had slipped from her hand. With his focus broken from the painting, he became aware of how tight the denim of his jeans suddenly felt. Doing his best not to panic, he carefully moved his cane, holding it in front of him with both hands against the pommel. He evened his breathing, trying to look casual as he glanced around the room. Luckily, it only took a few moments for the small crowd to move to the next room. With only the security guard present, and the poorly timed hard on giving now signs of going away, he shuffled awkwardly toward the restroom. He used his cane and an exaggerated step to hide the real reason for his stiff movements. 

He locked himself in an accessible bathroom. Grateful for the privacy. He leaned against the sink, hands braced behind him as he tried to will the blood back into any other part of his body. Every thought circled back to you. To your body. Your voice. Your taste. He couldn’t help the pathetic sound that slipped past his lips as the restriction of his jeans became painful. 

He sucked in a sharp breath, undoing his jeans and pushing them down, boxers going with. He was leaking already, hard against his stomach, “Ah, fucking molly.”

He gasped as he wrapped a hand around himself, the other still braced against the counter. He couldn’t believe how much of a mess you made him. Just the thought of you and he was rubbing one out in public. God, how he wished you were here. Bent over the sink or on your knees in front of him. He wanted you. Your mouth. Your hands. Your cunt. He whimpered, teeth clamped down on his bottom lip as he dragged his fist up and down his length. Moving his other hand down his torso, cupping his balls, and making himself shudder. He swiped his thumb over his tip, imagining it was your tongue gathering precum. His hips gave an involuntary buck as he sped up the movements. The drugs in his system wanted him to go slow, to think about you, laid out in front of him. To think about you keening for him, writhing in his sheets, begging him to fuck you. The Fine Arts Museum bathroom wasn’t the place for that, though. He sped himself up, curling over himself and breathing heavy as he fucked his fist. Your name filled his lungs, choking him as he came. He barely had time to rip a paper towel from the dispenser and save his clothing from cum stains. His shoulders trembled as he tried to regain composure. 

When he was sure he’d be able to stand without tipping, he tucked himself away. Tossing the evidence into the bin and turning around to face himself in the mirror. He was barely able to make eye contact with himself as he washed his hands. He was paler than normal, even with the flush across his neck and cheeks. The circles under his eyes had become severe over the weekend. He looked tired. 

Every year during the holidays, you learned more and more how bittersweet growing up was. When you were a kid, the worst part of holidays was the stuffy dresses your mother would shove you into. Now you had responsibilities. Make sure the windows and floors were clean. Make sure you had everything needed to avoid a stressful last-minute grocery run. Make sure the dog was out of counter-surfing range. 

It wasn’t all horrible, though. Along with the responsibilities came the feeling of being a part of things. You had forever been the only kid in the family, which meant no kids' table to be banished to. Instead, you were crammed between your mother and father, stuck between them while they argued and pretended to love each other. No voice of your own allowed unless it was asked for. By the time the divorce was finalized, you were old enough to really help out. 

Your dad handled turkey and pie, an odd combination that required the type of patience he had perfected. You handled sides and table settings. Your grandparents - Rose and Mark - would arrive early with wine and homemade bread. Your uncle - Kris - would arrive late with whiskey, a board game, and work stories. These things all fell into place when your father deemed you old enough to drink. It was a funny thing, how the ability to hold the stem of a wine glass in your hand suddenly made you an adult. Tonight, you wielded that wine glass like a weapon. 

Luckily, your uncle managed to be the center of attention tonight. He had moved to New York City the past year and had plenty of stories. All of which your grandparents ate up. You were grateful to be spared the questions. Perfectly happy to eat and get drunk on rosé and listen to your grandparents grill your uncle about his new life in the city. Main plates were cleared, and pies were cut by the time the real attention turned to you.

“How has school been?” Your grandmother asked, passing the sweating bottle across the table to you.

“Good,” You told her, filling your glass, “super busy, this year. I have a STEM-heavy schedule. Lots of labs, lots of homework.”

“That’s good to hear,” She told you, “have you decided what you’re majoring in?”

That was something you had told her plenty of times. A decision that was made before college even started. You caught the warning look from your father, reading ‘I know, just drop it.’.

“Marine bio,” You told her, keeping yourself pleasant, “the U of P program is small, but has good connections.”

“Piltover’s a good school.” Your grandfather chimed in around a bite of pecan pie, then gestured to his eldest son with his fork, “Shame never graduated from there, Erik.”

“Mark,” Your grandmother scolded.

“Ma, it’s fine,” Your dad waved her off, “I don’t think it’s a shame at all, actually. I own a business, I own my house, have no debt, and a perfect daughter. Did it all without a degree from the University of Piltover. Graduating wasn’t necessary.”

He leveled your grandfather with a look. Old enough not to be bullied by his father anymore. Then he turned to you, finger and eyebrow raised.

“Except for you,” He said pointedly, “you don’t graduate and your ass is grass, ya hear?”

“What the fuck?” You laughed, “How’s that fair?”

“Because I said so.” He said, holding back his own laugh at the same time as your grandmother scolded you for your language at the table.

“Rest assured, I’ve put in too much work to quit now,” you snorted, taking another sip of your wine.

“Well, sometimes it’s not a choice,” your grandmother said, sipping at her water and glancing away, “sure wasn’t for your father.”

“Come on now,” Your father scolded, “might not have been a choice, but I wouldn't change a thing.”

“I’m just saying!” She defended, throwing her hands up, “Not like she can keep going to school if she gets pregnant.”

You gasped, “Jesus Christ."

“Mom,” your father snapped, “stop.”

“Oh please,” She scoffed, “it’s something every parent worries about, don’t pretend it isn’t.” She turned to look at you, “The only way to not get pregnant is to not have sex, you know that, right?” She whipped towards him, “You told her, right?”

“Oh my god, mom.” Your dad covered his eyes with a hand, “Yes, I’ve had safe-sex discussions with my child. Now, can we please stop talking about my daughter having sex at the dinner table?”

“I’m killing myself,” You muttered, dropping your head into your hands, elbows pressed firmly into the table.

You heard the telltale pop of a bottle uncorking and peeked through your fingers to find your uncle and grandfather tipping whiskey into their glasses. Silently, you picked up your own empty glass, extending it down the table towards them. The glass dipped with the weight of the drink. 

“I’m sorry!” She said, shrugging, “But things happen, okay. You can’t control God’s plan, but you can control what you do with your body.”

You tossed back the shot, brain lighting up at her words. Immediately forming the perfect ‘political fight at Thanksgiving’ starter response. You were milliseconds away from dropping your well-rehearsed ‘my body, my choice’ speech when your father's hand came down hard on the table.

“Mouth. Closed. Now.” He said, stern look on his face. He knew you too well. Your jaw snapped shut with an audible click. 

A beat, and then, “Man, this pie is great!” Kris said into the awkward silence, fighting back a laugh, “You should start a bakery as a side business, Erik. Call it Fish n’ Pie or something.”

“Fish and Pie?” You scoffed, “That’s so uncreative.”

“Well, college girl, you got a better idea?” He asked, jabbing a forkful of apple pie at you.

You thought for a moment, narrowing your eyes at him, “Not yet, but it will come to me.”

“Sure,” His voice muffled with a mouthful of food.

It was enough to break the tension and move the evening along. In no time, you were armed with a third glass of wine and a tiny pewter cat. You were losing, consistently stuck in jail, and only 3 lots to your name. Your dad and grandfather were, like always, being far too competitive. Your grandmother and uncle took turns throwing cheater allegations. 

You were idling in jail when your phone began to buzz in your pocket. The do-not-disturb timer had apparently come to an end, allowing your notifications to come through. It was Jinx mostly, spamming you to answer her. You cringed as you read the messages under the table. You hadn’t done your section of the lab, and Jinx was rightfully pissed about it. You sent her a text apologizing and promising that you’d head back to campus tomorrow to finish the work over the weekend. That it would be done when it was due. She replied immediately.

I was straight up about to track down your house phone number if you didn’t text me back.

You snorted a laugh at her dramatics. Rolling your eyes and tapping out a quick reply.

Dude, what is 2008? We don’t have a landline.

Before you could see her response, Kris was nudging your foot under the table. You glanced up, eyebrow raised. He inclined his chin, nodding towards your hidden phone and smirking.

“Who ya texting?” He asked.

“A friend,” you rolled your eyes. Clicking the phone closed and sliding it into your pocket.

“A friend?” He asked, eyes narrowing, “Sure it’s not your boyfriend?”

Your heart sank. Of course, someone would have to say the fucking word. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Sure you do,” he scoffed. The rest of the table had gone silent, watching the exchange, “that skinny guy you’re always posting with.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you insisted through clamped teeth, nails digging into your palm. The only person in your family to have social media, and he had to bring it up.

“Ha! Yeah, right!” He continued, “You two did that couple clown costume for Halloween. Super cute, by the way.”

“See, I told you,” your grandmother said, chin lifted at your father, “things happen.”

Your chair scraped loudly against the hardwood floor a you stood. Hands in fists at your side. You didn’t say anything as you turned and walked away, ignoring the appalled protests from your grandparents as you left. You stormed out the front of the house, yanking the door of your truck open and scrambling inside. You didn’t have the keys. You weren't sure you’d go anywhere even if you did. 

You looked down into the passenger seat. Viktor’s coat was still there, crumpled and cold. Your bottom lip began to tremble, threatening you. You reached out, grabbing it and pulling it into your lap. You half expected it to be warm. You’d never felt it cold before. Always warmed by him before being handed over. You leaned your forehead against the steering wheel, pulling the coat to your chest as tears began to silently drip down your face. Even after sitting for nearly a week, cold and abandoned in your truck, it still smelled like Viktor. You pressed your face to the collar, cheek against the red thread of his name. You jumped when the passenger door cracked up. Sitting up, you found your father standing in the open door.

“Can I come in?” he asked, as if the truck were your bedroom.

You sniffed and nodded. He slid in, keys jangling in his hand as he reached over and jammed them into the ignition. Instinctively, you pressed your foot to the brake as he started up the truck. He adjusted the heaters.

“I’m sorry I walked out.” You said, testing your voice.

“Don’t be.” He said, leaning back in the seat, “The way I see it, it’s better to walk out than freak out.”

“I guess.” You hummed, hands tightening on the jacket.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“Not really.” You admitted, pouting.

“This guy is he…” Your dad asked, unsure.

“Viktor isn’t my boyfriend.” You told him, you barely believed yourself.

“Ah, Viktor,” he said his name, clicking his tongue, “your…friend.”

“Don’t say it like that.” You snapped.

“Like what?” He asked, hands up in defence.

“Like you don’t believe me,” you sniffed again, fighting more tears, “everyone says it like that. Like I’m lying.”

“I’m sorry, Buddy,” he cringed, “you’re right. That’s not fair.”

You huffed in response, turning to look out the window.

“But he is the reason, right?” He asked slowly, “that you came home early. That you’ve been so upset.”

You could hear him trying to hide that protective anger you were so used to.

“Yes.” You said firmly.

“What is he to you, then, to make you feel like this?” The dad voice mixed with that old therapist voice he never got to put into practice.

“He’s…I don’t know.” You shrugged, unsure how to explain the fucked up situation, “He’s my friend. Sometimes I acted like he was more than a friend…and sometimes I didn’t. Which is,” your voice cracked, “really fucked up.”

“Do you want him to be more than a friend?” 

“Yes,” you admitted, holding his jacket closer, voice shaking, “I really, really want him to be more than a friend.”

“Do you know…how he feels about you?” He asked, hesitant about what the question would bring up.

“I know he wanted to…go out with me.” You said, the use of wanted instead of wants made your chest ache, “he asked me out forever ago.”

“And?” He urged.

“I told him no,” you said, thinking about the dry heat that day. It felt like so much longer ago than just a couple of months, “I told him to ask me again at the end of the semester.”

“Why?” He was trying to fit the pieces together.

“Because we have a class together.”

“Ah, I see. You’re still doing that?”

“Yes, and there's a reason I do it.” You huffed, frowning at your hands, “He said he’d wait, but I think…I think I became impatient, which made him impatient. I started to forget why I was doing it in the first place, then I…” You choked on a sob as you saw your ex’s face in your mind again.

“Take your time, Buddy, what happened?” He grabbed your hand, squeezing your palm.

“I saw Aaron. It was like tearing open stitches.” You gasped, eyes wide as you looked at your father, “God, seeing him hurt so bad. I freaked out. I pushed Viktor away. I was so mean.”

“Take a breath,”  He rubbed his other hand across your back.

“He said,” you hiccuped a sob, sniffing as you tried to speak, “he thinks I only care about him when I’m drinking. That I’ve been hypocritical.”

“Why would he think that?” Your father shook his head, watching you.

“It’s my fault. I’m more…affectionate, I guess, when I drink.” You told him, more heat rising to your already red face.

“Oh.” 

“Not like that.” A half lie, but your father didn’t need to know that, “I just forget to care about all the stuff that I think I’m supposed to care about. So I drink and I forget this rule I’ve made and I let myself do what I want. I let myself be closer to him.”

“But when you’re sober?”

“I mean, lately I’ve been close to him sober, too.” You thought about the past school week. Waking up to him in your bed, head resting on your shoulder, lines of his face smoothed out as he breathed softly. “Wherever we are, we’re sitting next to each other. And he…he does this thing with my hair and… oh my god, dad, I miss him so much.”

 “Have you talked to him?”

“No…but he’s called a few times,” you admitted, looking away shamefully, “I couldn't pick up. I didn’t know what to say. I still don’t.”

“Well. What do you want to come of this?” He asked, always the logical one between the two of you.

“I want to say sorry without having to admit I did something wrong.” You huffed, rubbing the cuff of his jacket sleeve between your fingers.

“Not how it works, Buddy,” he said softly, offering a sad smile.

“I know, it sucks.” You scoffed a laugh, rolling your eyes.

“You want to know what I think you should do?” He raised an eyebrow, face gentle as he asked.

“Well, you’re gonna tell me either way, right?” You squinted at him, lips pursed.

“I think you should start by deciding if you want to stick to this rule or not.” He said point-blank, ignoring your sarcasm, “If it’s what you want. Either tell him he will have to wait for you, or tell him he doesn’t. There isn’t a right answer. 

“What if he doesn’t want to wait for me anymore?” Your heart seized at the thought, “or fucking worse. I tell him I don’t want to wait any more, and he still doesn’t want me.”

“Then you have to be okay with letting him go.” He squeezed your hand as he told you this.

“I can’t.” You shook your head, looking to your dad as panic rose in your chest, “I can’t, Dad. I can’t lose him. It’s more than just wanting to be with him. I can’t even explain it. It’s like, when he’s around, everything is just… right. All the noise and clutter in my brain just…goes away, like dust settling.”

“Oh, Buddy,” your dad sighed, leaning forward and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. You felt him lay his cheek on the top of your head, “you know I love you more than anything in the universe, but you’re going to have to figure this one out on your own.”

Without the adrenaline that had propelled you forward Friday night, the drive back to campus was borderline painful. Your dad had made you breakfast and coffee. You sat with him for an hour, almost two, slowly sipping and asking him about anything and everything to drag out your time at home. It wasn’t until he finally called you out on your procrastination, hugging you tightly and shooing you out the door, did you finally leave. 

You were halfway through the drive, the solitary confinement of your truck sending you up the wall. You tried distracting yourself with music, cranking the volume of your stereo as loud as it would go, to no avail. Instead of singing along or thinking about the chords of your favorite guitar lines, your thoughts pulled elsewhere. You didn’t realize how much you were dreading going back to campus until it was actually happening. You kept thinking about the scene you made. Crying in front of your friends. Running away from Viktor. Packing up and fleeing home without a word about it. You regretted the dramatics of it. You began to wonder how much people knew. You didn’t tell anyone about running into Aaron. Not even Lest. You weren't sure she even knew you went home.  You had barely looked at your phone over break, but you knew there were plenty of missed calls and messages waiting for you. Carefully, you opened your phone and clicked on the voicemail box.

“You have seven new voice messages,” The automated voice told you through the Bluetooth rigged up to your stereo. You waited as it began to play.

“New Message: Hey Honey, It’s Mel. I saw A- I saw him here. I’m so sorry, baby. Please call or text me when you're safe. It looks like you’re driving up to Winter Harbour. I really wish you’d just stop and stay somewhere for the night. I’ll pay for a hotel for you or something if you need. Call me if you can, or text me. Drive safe, I love you.”

“New Message: Hey, babe, it’s Lest. I just woke up to, like, a hundred texts from Mel about you leaving and Viktor making you cry. What happened? Are you okay? Did he hurt you? I swear to god, I will kill him. I have your location, but if you could call me or text me or something.”

You sighed as guilt began to shimmy itself in next to embarrassment. It wasn’t fair of you to let your friends worry about over their break. You marked the message for deletion, making note to yourself to call her back.

 “New Message: Hey. It’s Lest again. I know you’re home, but I’m still worried about you. Please call me or text me or something. A sign of life would be nice. You know how I get. Love you, bye.” There was a beat of silence and then, “And if you still want me to kill him, I will.”

You cursed to yourself. Carefully, you pulled your phone off its hook, holding it in your lap as you sent a quick text to Lest - Driving, will call when @ UoP. Sorry. Love you. It was sufficient enough for now. 

“New Message: Mila, I’m so sorry. I can’t even say how sorry I am. Please call me.”

You froze as Viktor’s voice bloomed around you. Hands tight on the steering wheel and vision blurring with tears. You sucked in a harsh breath, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand.

“New Message: Please, Mila, please call me back. I was a fucking dick, and I’m so sorry. I should never have said that to you. I’m so sorry. Please, Mila.”

You pulled the truck over onto the shoulder. Leaning your head against the steering wheel and trying to slow your breathing as the next message played. 

“New Message: Mila, please…” His voice was slurred and heavy, “Please, I’m at a fucking loss. This is killing me. I need you to call me. Please, Mila, please.”

You clenched your teeth, holding back a sob at the way his voice sounded. You let tears roll down your face as the most recent message played.

“Moje láska,” Viktor breathed, eyes closed as he lay in his bed, fist held tight around the first gift you gave him, “… I’m sorry.”

He hung up, dropping his phone onto the sheets next to him. He held the pearl over his face, rolling its asymmetrical form between his fingers. Gray and pink, and just as beautiful as the day you gave it to him. He closed his eyes, bringing the pearl to the line of his lips. He could practically feel how that day felt. The sun and the water and you… Your hands on his face on the boat. Your chest to his in the cave. Your lips, fleeting, against his cheek just after you gave him the pearl. He’d give anything to live that day a hundred times over again. 

He flinched as his phone began to ring. His fist closed tight around the pearl as he lurched up, brain lighting up with hopes of you. You. You. Hopes that were dashed as soon as he saw ‘JINXXXX’ as the caller ID. He groaned, declining the call only for it to instantly begin ringing again. He groaned, deciding to answer only because he knew she wouldn’t stop until he did.

“What?” he snapped down the line.

“Whoa, first of all, watch your tone,” Jinx said. He could practically see the look on her face, “and second, out of curiosity, have you done even a second of work on our project that's due Monday? Huh?” When Viktor remained silent, she continued, “Yeah, didn’t think so.”

“Listen, I’m sorry, Jinx,” He found himself apologizing a lot recently, “I just have a lot going on right now.”

“Bullshit,” She snapped, “You have one thing going on. Just because you and Lovergirl are going through a divorce doesn’t mean you can risk my fucking GPA, got it?”

“We’re not-” Viktor cut himself off, coming to terms that arguing with Jinx was a losing fight, “I’m sorry, you’re right.”

“Yeah, I fucking know,” she told him, “I need you to get this shit done, Viktor. You have three days to do a week's worth of work. Get to the lab. Right. Now.”

She didn’t wait for a response before hanging up. Viktor dropped his phone next to him. She was right. He knew she was right. He needed to get it together. He groaned, sitting up and placing the pearl back into the dish that lived on his bedside table. It clinked softly against the ceramic, settling between his rosary and grandfather's watch. 

Stolen jacket clutched to your chest and shoes dripping snow, you stood outside the door to the lab. Your heart was pounding, telling you to run rather than face this. Your dad's voice told you something else. Lest’s told you a whole other thing. 

There was no right answer but yours. 

No right answer but yours.

You pushed open the door, trying to still the shake in your hands. He was there. Like you knew he would be. Like his cellphone location told you. Crisp lab coat smoothed to his shoulders. Half leaning, half standing against a tall stool. Head bowed to the lens of a microscope. Wired earbuds, tucked down the back of his shirt. Ends of his dark hair pulled in odd directions by his fidgeting hands. The door closed heavily behind you, making him still. 

You watched as he pulled an earbud out, head tilting as he listened. Slowly, he turned his head, hesitant as if he was afraid to look. His eyebrows furrowed, the saddest look you’d ever seen on a man gracing his face. Still so beautiful, despite the lack of sleep and apparent torment you’d been causing him.

“Hi,” was all you could think to say, watching as he reached for his crutch and stood on shaky legs.

He opened his mouth to speak, closing it. His hesitation broke your heart. You took a step closer to him.

“Viktor…” You shook your head, lips parted as you tried to come up with anything to say.

“I’m so sorry,” he finally said, taking a step closer, hands raised slightly, “I’m so so sorry.”

“Vik,” You shook your head, matching his step, “I’ve been awful.”

Your voice broke on the last words, tears threatening to fall.

“I shouldn’t have said those things to you,” He blurted out, eyes wide as panic rose to the surface, “Oh my god, I can’t believe I ever spoke to you the way I did. I am so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“You were right, Viktor.” You told him, moving closer again, “You were fucking right. I was being horrible. I was being hypocritical. It wasn’t fair, but I… Vik, I… I care about you so much. I’m sorry I did anything to make you feel otherwise.”

“No,” He shook his head, another step, “It was unfair of me to expect more from you than you were ready for. You told me what you wanted, and I couldn’t control myself despite it. I'm so sorry. I’d endure decades of just being your friend as long as it meant I could be around you. It’s not a waste of time. God, Mila, you are never a waste of time. Never.”

He was close enough now to touch. Without thinking, you lurched forward, wrapping your arms around his middle and burying your face in his sweater. He smelled like himself. He felt like himself. He made you feel more like yourself. He froze for half a second before responding, arms wrapping around your shoulders and cheek resting against the top of your head. 

“I’m so sorry,” He muttered, I’m so sorry, moje laska.”

“I’m sorry that I went so cold,” You said, turning your head to speak, ear pressed to his chest, “It wasn’t fair, and I’m sorry I did it.”

“It’s okay, Mila,” He smoothed a hand over your hair, “It’s fine. It’s over.”

“I…I was going to cut it short.” You admitted.

“What?” He asked.

“The whole ‘not letting you ask me out thing’,” You scoffed, “I wanted to end it.”

“Wanted,” he repeated sadly, “Past tense.”

“Yes, past tense.” You leaned back, looking up at him, “I’d forgotten why I was doing it in the first place. It felt dumb.”

“But?” He encouraged, fingers moving against your face as he brushed your hair back. Just like you knew he would.

“The reason showed up Friday night.” You admitted,  “The reason looked at me like he did nothing wrong. The reason reminded me why I’ve been making us both miserable for the past 3 months.

“I’ve never been miserable because of you,” He assured, though you knew that wasn’t really true, “You’ve never told me about it…Do you want to?”

“Not right now.” You shook your head, “I will, but not now.”

“That’s fine, Mila.” He chewed on the inside of his lip, laughing bitterly, “I imagine this is your way of telling me I still need to wait.”

“One more month,” you said, tilting your head up at him, “not even, actually. Like, two weeks and some change. Think we can manage?”

“Anything for you,” he sighed, pressing a kiss to your forehead. They laughed softly, “Did Jinx demand you work here today as well?”

“She didn’t explicitly mention bodily harm,” you laughed, pressing your cheek back to his chest, “I wouldn’t be surprised if that gash on your face was from her, honestly.”

“It was a… whole thing,” He scoffed a laugh, thinking about the incident.

“You can tell me about it later.” You assured him, leaning into the way his chest moved under you when he laughed.

“So, should we start working?” He asked, unmoving.

You tightened your arms around him, shaking your head. Not ready to let go, “Yes, just in a minute. If that’s okay.”

“More than okay, Mila,” he sighed, bowing his head to press his nose to your neck. You could feel his breath against your skin. “More than okay.”