Work Text:
The workshop was still, the only sounds the rhythmic clank of tools and the occasional hiss of steam from an overworked machine. The air was thick with the scent of oil, metal, and a quiet, almost unbearable tension—an energy that Viktor felt in his bones, that had been building for hours, days, maybe longer. The machine in front of him was a failure—he could feel it. It wasn't the machine though. No, it was him. Viktor's body, his mind—they were all wrong, and the pressure of it was crushing him.
His fingers were too steady, too precise, but it was a façade. Beneath it, there was only chaos. His leg burned with every slight movement, the injury a constant, gnawing reminder of his fragility, but it wasn't the pain that was tearing at him. It was something deeper, something darker, something he couldn't escape. Viktor's chest tightened with the sensation, the ache only growing as the seconds ticked by.
He tried to focus on the device—turn it, twist it, make it work—but every failed attempt felt like a personal betrayal. He was weak. The machine was weak. Everything was weak, and that word—weak—echoed in his mind, gnawing at his sanity. His grip tightened on the wrench, knuckles white as the frustration clawed at him.
And then, from the corner of his vision, he saw Jayce.
He didn't look up immediately. Jayce was working—his movements smooth, confident, deliberate. The exact opposite of Viktor. Where Viktor's actions were forced, restricted by the weight of his body and his fractured mind, Jayce moved as though the world around him bent to his will. Jayce was everything Viktor wasn't. The thought stung, a sharp jolt of jealousy mixed with something else. Something darker. Viktor watched him, fixating on the ease of Jayce's movements, the fluidity with which he handled tools, the way he never seemed to fail.
Something inside Viktor snapped. The pressure—the need—was too much. And then, without thinking, without even a moment of hesitation, Viktor lurched forward. He moved awkwardly, the strain in his leg making him stumble slightly, but he kept his balance. He was driven by an instinct, an uncontrollable need to act. He felt it build in his chest, tight and choking, and before he could stop himself, he swung his arm. It was an instinct, a reaction—but it wasn't just anger. It was desperation. It was a need to feel something. To make the world around him bend to him, just for a moment.
The wrench collided with Jayce's shoulder with a sickening thud.
Jayce didn't even flinch. He barely looked up, just slowly turned his head, the corners of his lips curling into a smirk, a small glint of curiosity in his eyes. Viktor was still frozen, his fist now hanging up in the air, his entire body taut, waiting for something—anything—from Jayce.
"What was that for?" Jayce's voice was low, his tone amused, but there was something else in it too. Something that made Viktor's skin prickle.
Viktor stood there for a moment, his breath coming in shallow gasps. He hadn't meant it—not in that way. Not in that way. But the satisfaction was undeniable. The strange, raw satisfaction that had bubbled up in him the moment his fist had made contact. It wasn't about anger at Jayce—it was about something else. The need. The desire. The rush that only pain could bring.
"I didn't mean to," Viktor said hoarsely, his voice tight with the weight of something unsaid. His hand dropped and then hovered by his side, still tense, unwilling to release the impulse that had driven him to strike. He stepped backwards ever so slightly, wincing whenever he would lean too much on his bad leg. "It's just..." he sighed.
Jayce raised an eyebrow, standing and stepping closer, closing the space between them with slow, measured steps. He didn't speak at first, just let the silence hang there, thick with something neither of them wanted to face. Viktor's pulse quickened. He could feel Jayce's presence now, the weight of it pressing down on him, intensifying the pressure in his chest.
"You're sure you didn't mean to?" Jayce asked, his voice even, but there was an edge to it now—sharp and knowing. His gaze locked onto Viktor's with an intensity that made Viktor's breath catch. "Because I think you did mean to."
Viktor's heartbeat slammed in his chest. It wasn't just the words. It was the way Jayce said it. It was as if Jayce could see right through him, could see the truth that Viktor had tried to bury deep within himself for so long. That dark truth.
"I didn't want to hurt you," Viktor said, his voice barely above a whisper. He had no defense now, no shield left to hide behind. His chest ached, his throat tight with the weight of his confession. But there was more to it than that. There was the need—the desperate, burning need to feel something other than the pressure crushing him from all sides.
Jayce's lips curled into a grin, but it wasn't the playful smile Viktor was used to. This one was something else—something dark and dangerous. "You didn't hurt me," Jayce said, his tone almost too calm, as if he were savoring every word. "But you wanted to, didn't you?"
Viktor swallowed hard. The words were a knife in his chest, twisting and turning as they made their way through him. Yes. He wanted to hurt Jayce, well maybe not Jayce specifically, but he wanted someone to hurt. He wanted to feel.
The air between them was thick now, charged with something neither of them could ignore. Viktor's hands trembled, his body alive with the tension that crackled in the space between them. Every nerve in his body screamed for release, but he couldn't bring himself to move.
And then Jayce did something that shattered what little control Viktor had left.
Jayce reached out, his hand curling around Viktor's arm, his fingers pressing hard into Viktor's skin, digging in with a pressure that made Viktor gasp. It wasn't gentle. It wasn't kind. It was sharp, unforgiving, like a challenge, an invitation.
Viktor's mind spiraled. He wanted to pull away. He wanted to flee. But there was nowhere to go. The room was too small, too suffocating. All he could focus on was the heat of Jayce's touch, the way Jayce's grip tightened, making Viktor's skin burn under his fingers.
Without thinking, Viktor's fist shot out, landing against Jayce's side with a sharp thud. The sound reverberated in Viktor's ears, and the satisfaction—the release—was immediate, like a dam breaking open. It wasn't enough. It wasn't nearly enough. But the feeling, the rush of it—he couldn't deny how good it felt.
Jayce barely reacted. Viktor could see the faintest smirk on his lips, but nothing else. It was like Jayce was enjoying it—enjoying the way Viktor struggled with this twisted desire. Jayce's eyes gleamed, as if he had been waiting for this, as if he had always known.
"That's better," Jayce murmured, his voice low, a dark undertone in every word. "Now we're getting somewhere."
Viktor's heart hammered in his chest. His body shook with the urge to do more, to feel more. His hand moved without thought, fingers digging into Jayce's arm, pressing into the warm flesh, the blood beneath his skin. The sensation was almost too much, but it wasn't enough. He wanted Jayce's blood under his nails.
Jayce didn't pull away. He didn't shy from Viktor's touch. Instead, he leaned in, his lips brushing against Viktor's ear. "You like this, don't you?" His voice was a whisper, but it burned in Viktor's chest like fire.
Viktor froze. For a moment, his world stopped. He wanted to deny it. He wanted to run from it. But he couldn't. He was trapped in it now. Trapped in the madness. Trapped in the need.
"Yes," Viktor whispered, his voice raw. "I do."
Jayce's laugh was low, quiet, but filled with something Viktor couldn't quite place. "Good," he murmured. "Because I do too."
And in that moment, Viktor realized the truth. They were both insane. But it wasn't the kind of insanity that destroyed them. It was the kind that fed them. That brought them closer, in a way that neither of them could explain.
They didn't need to speak any more. The air between them was thick with understanding, with an unspoken agreement that neither of them had ever dared to voice before. They were two halves of the same madness, and for the first time in a long time, Viktor didn't feel broken.
They didn't need anyone else. They didn't need normalcy. They didn't need to hide. This—this was their release. This was their truth.
"We won't tell anyone," Viktor murmured, his voice rough, his breath shaky. His heart still thudded in his chest, wild and unrestrained.
Jayce's eyes gleamed with something darker now, but there was a strange softness too, something that made Viktor feel like he wasn't alone in this anymore. Jayce confirmed, his gaze steady, almost possessive. "No one else." His voice was quieter now, but the weight behind his words was undeniable. There was a knowing in his eyes, a depth to his expression that Viktor couldn't look away from. It was like Jayce had already crossed this line—had already accepted what they were, what they had become, and he wasn't afraid of it.
Viktor's breath was still shallow, his mind spinning in the aftermath of their unspoken agreement, the rawness of it all pulsing through him. The tension that had built between them over the years had finally snapped, and for the first time, Viktor didn't feel like he was carrying the world on his shoulders alone. Jayce was there—beside him, in the madness, in the chaos. Together.
He took a step back, though his body was still trembling with the intensity of what had just happened. His fingers were still tingling from the pressure, from the rush of feeling, but something else lingered. Something that felt too much like an anchor, too much like a promise. The insanity was there, still hovering just beneath the surface, but now it wasn't something to fight. It was something they shared.
"I don't think we can go back," Viktor muttered, his voice still rough, the words barely leaving his throat.
Jayce's lips quirked into a smile, the kind that was far too knowing, far too dangerous. "No. We can't. And frankly, I don't want to." He stepped closer, the space between them charged with something almost palpable, something that stretched the air too thin. "But we don't need to. Not anymore."
Viktor's heart beat faster, and the madness crept back in, but this time, it felt like it had found its place. Viktor had always been at war with himself—his body, his mind, his desires. But Jayce... Jayce understood. He was part of it now, as much a part of this chaos as Viktor was. And that thought, that realization, both terrified and exhilarated him.
"Good," Viktor said, his voice barely more than a whisper. He met Jayce's eyes, and for the first time, the uncertainty in his chest seemed to settle, just a little. "Good."
Jayce didn't say anything more. He didn't need to. The room was heavy with the weight of their shared understanding, and Viktor knew—without a doubt—that this was only the beginning. The madness, the need—it was something they both craved, and together, they could feed off it, live in it, let it consume them.
And maybe that was the only thing that made sense anymore.
The pair both found their way back to their seats and tried to continue on their work. It wasn't late, so neither of them could leave the lab and make an excuse of being tired. They had to suffer through the thoughts that they could be near ripping each other apart.
Jayce dropped his screwdriver.
Viktor's eyes flickered down over to Jayce as the tool clattered to the ground, his chest tight with anticipation. Jayce let out a sound, one between a sigh and a whine, and bent down, grabbing the screwdriver. Viktor wanted no more than to plunge that through his shoulder. Maybe he'd angle it just right to wedge it in the glenohumeral joint. He wonders if Jayce would scream. He wishes he would.
Viktor's fingers twitched, his mind racing with the aftermath of their agreement. The truth they had discovered about each other, barely even thirty minutes ago. The shared insanity. There was a hunger in him, a gnawing need, and it wasn't something he needed to bury anymore.
Jayce stood up, chucking the screwdriver over some loose sheets in his notebook, and took a few steps closer to Viktor. Just close enough for Viktor to easily see the way his chest rose and fell as he breathed. Viktor's breath hitched.
Jayce's smirk twisted into something darker, more dangerous, as he grabbed the back of a chair and dragged to close to where Viktor sat. His laugh was low as he sat, his voice starting to drag heavy with hunger. "You still want to hurt me, don't you?"
"I—" Viktor's words faltered, the weight of his confession strangling him, but Jayce didn't give him time to finish.
Jayce reached out, his fingers brushing against Viktor's jaw, the touch was light, but there was a pressure in it that made Viktor's skin burn. His hand trailed down Viktor's neck, fingertips pressing into the muscles, "Because I want to hurt you so bad, V. So fucking bad."
Viktor's body responded before his mind could catch up. He closed the distance between them, his hand shooting out, gripping Jayce's arm with a strength that surprised them both.
Jayce sucked in a sharp breath, his grin widening with both excitement and control. His fingers that were still lazily rested on Viktor's throat twitched, tightening just slightly before he dragged his nails down the side of Viktor's neck, slow enough to let the sting settle in, to let the pain bloom beneath his skin.
Viktor shuddered, his grip on Jayce's arm tightening, nails pressing in, threatening to break skin. He could feel Jayce's pulse thrumming beneath his fingertips, steady, strong. It was intoxicating. The way Jayce let him do this, the way Jayce wanted this. The realisation sent a sharp, almost dizzying rush through Viktor's veins.
"Do it," Jayce whispered, voice low, almost pleading. His hand left Viktor's throat, only to curl around his wrist, guiding Viktor's nails deeper into his skin. He hissed at the sensation,but the smirk never left his face. "Don't hold back."
Viktor didn't.
His fingers dug in hard, hard enough that he felt the skin break under his nails, warm blood welling up in thin, crimson lines. Jayce let out a sharp breath, tilting his head back slightly, exposing the curve of his throat. Viktor wanted to sink his teeth into it.
He settled for something more brutal.
Viktor wrenched Jayce forward by his arm, dragging him off balance, and when Jayce stumbled, Viktor struck. His fist connected with Jayce's ribs, hard and fast, a sharp burst of force that made Jayce grunt and stagger, his breath hitching. He doubled over slightly, but his laughter—low and breathless—sent a thrill through Viktor's chest.
"Oh, fuck," Jayce exhaled, half a groan, half a laugh. His free hand shot out, gripping Viktor's thigh—not for balance, but for control. His fingers curled, pressing hard into the muscle just above Viktor's bad knee, applying a cruel, steady pressure that made Viktor's breath stutter.
Pain shot up his leg as Jayce pressed harsher, sharp and immediate. Viktor gritted his teeth, his nails dragging out of Jayce's arm as his body jolted from the sudden spike of sensation. His vision blurred for a second, his breath coming out in a ragged gasp, and yet—God, it felt good. His whole body was alight with it, buzzing with something raw and euphoric.
Jayce was watching him, eyes dark, hungry. "You like that? never would have thought you liked pain from something you complain about constantly." His voice was barely above a murmur, teasing, but there was something in it— something desperate.
Viktor let out a shaky breath, his grip shifting to Jayce's wrist, forcing his hand away from his leg before Jayce could press any harder. He hated the pain his leg brought, but when Jayce made it hurt, he loved it. He wanted the pain, craved it, but he wasn't about to let Jayce use his weakness against him. Not yet.
Instead Viktor moved fast, he stood and dragged Jayce up, twisting his arm behind his back in a sharp, controlled motion that forced Jayce down onto the work bench. He leaned over him, his breath heavy against Jayce's ear.
"I should break your fingers," Viktor murmured, his accent thicker, rougher, his words curling like smoke between them. His weight pressed down against Jayce's back, pinning him, his grip firm around Jayce's wrist. "Or maybe just dislocate your shoulder. See how well you work after that."
Jayce laughed, the sound muffled against the cold metal of the table, but there was some breathlessness to it now, a rawness that sent a shiver through Viktor's spine. "You talk big, V," Jayce rasped, shifting slightly under Viktor's hold. "But i don't think you'd actually do it."
"Don't test me," Viktor whispered, and prone to his point, he twisted Jayce's arm just a fraction further, just enough to send a sharp spike of discomfort through his shoulder.
Jayce groaned, his body tensing beneath Viktor's, and that sound— that sound— shot straight through Viktor, coiling deep in his stomach. It wasn't a sound of pain, not really. It was something else. Something darker.
Jayce turned his head just enough to glance at Viktor, his eyes half-lidded, his breath uneven. His grin had softened into something almost desperate. "You're enjoying this way more than i thought, fuck V, you are crazy," he gasped.
Viktor exhaled a quiet laugh, his grip steady. "So are you miláčku."
Jayce didn't deny it. He just shifted, pressing back against Viktor, testing his strength. "You're gonna have to let me go eventually," he mused, voice still laced with amusement.
Viktor hummed, considering that. His fingers loosened slightly, though not enough for Jayce to pull away. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the shell of Jayce's ear as he spoke.
"You are right," Viktor murmured, his voice a breath of heat against Jayce's skin. "But not yet."
His free hand slid over Jayce's side, fingers pressing into the tender spot where his ribs ached from the earlier hit. Jayce sucked in a sharp breath, his body jolting slightly, and Viktor smiled.
Not yet.