Chapter Text
Jayce Talis believed in love.
Like, really believed in it. The heart-pounding, earth-shattering, fairytale kind of love. The kind that made people do absolutely ridiculous things, like commissioning elaborate skywriting proposals or hiring a full string quartet for a dinner date. Love was grand, love was powerful, and most importantly, love was his business . Literally.
Which was why, at this very moment, he was sitting across from Caitlyn Kiramman and Vi—Piltover’s most iconic power couple—trying very hard not to lose his mind.
"So let me get this straight," Jayce said, rubbing his temples. "You want a wedding that’s, and I quote, 'classy as hell' but also 'totally sick'?" He looked between them, waiting for one of them to realize how absurd that sounded.
Vi just grinned, arms crossed behind her head. "Yeah."
Caitlyn sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "What she means is that we’d like something elegant yet personal."
"With explosions," Vi added.
"Absolutely not."
Jayce scribbled something down in his notebook. "Okay, so… compromise is gonna be a big theme here. Got it."
The Kiramman estate’s sunlit parlor was almost offensively refined, all polished marble and antique furniture that Jayce was terrified to breathe on too hard. Meanwhile, Vi sat slouched in her chair like she was in a back-alley bar, one boot propped up on the expensive upholstery. Caitlyn glared at her, but Vi just winked.
Jayce was starting to understand why they’d hired a wedding planner.
"Alright, first things first." He straightened his notes. "Venue. Have you thought about where you want to—"
"Underground fight club," Vi interrupted.
Caitlyn exhaled so sharply it could’ve shattered glass. "We are not getting married in an underground fight club. "
Vi groaned. "But think about it—dim lighting, a real sense of danger, that raw, gritty energy…"
Jayce cleared his throat. "So, I’m just gonna put 'underground fight club’ down as a maybe ."
Vi shot him a finger gun. "Smart man."
Caitlyn, visibly resisting the urge to strangle her fiancée, turned to Jayce with the patience of a woman who had put up with so much. "We were actually thinking of something scenic. Maybe a grand hall or an outdoor garden. Something timeless."
Jayce nodded, a faint smile coming to his face. Finally, some sense. "That sounds beautiful. I know a few places that would be—"
"Orrrr," Vi drawled, "we get married in the middle of a heist. Real dramatic. Real memorable."
Jayce groaned, letting his head thunk against the table.
-💍💍💍-
Three hours, two near-breakups, and one threatened homicide later, Jayce finally stumbled out of the Kiramman estate with a semi-coherent plan and his sanity hanging on by a thread.
He took a deep breath, stuffing his notes into his satchel. This was going to be his most challenging wedding yet, but Jayce was nothing if not an optimist. It’s fine. Everything’s fine. This will be a beautiful, perfect wedding.
His next stop was checking out potential venues, and to do that, he needed to gather some materials. Which was how he ended up struggling under a mountain of fabric samples, floral arrangements, and decorative swatches, all piled precariously in his arms as he attempted to make his way up a ridiculous set of stairs.
"Alright, Talis, you got this," he muttered, shifting the weight of the load. "One step at a time—"
His foot caught on the edge of a stair.
Oh no.
Time slowed as he felt himself tilt forward, gravity betraying him in the most spectacular way possible. The pile of carefully arranged samples exploded into the air like a tragic confetti cannon, fabric fluttering down like mocking little parachutes.
"Shit!" Jayce swore, trying—and failing—to regain balance.
And then he heard it.
"Need help down there?"
It was a voice, smooth and dry, tinged with amusement.
Jayce groaned, preparing to curse his own clumsiness, but then he looked up and—oh.
A man stood at the top of the stairs, leaning casually against the railing, cane in hand. Messy auburn hair, sharp golden eyes, an expression that hovered somewhere between entertained and unimpressed.
Jayce’s brain short-circuited.
Because holy shit.
"Are you alright? Nasty spill you took." the man continued, lips twitching in clear amusement rather than actual concern.
Jayce scrambled to pick up the now-ruined samples, his face burning. "Yeah—yep—totally fine—this happens all the time—"
The man tilted his head. "That so? Must be quite the hazard."
Jayce barked out a laugh, despite himself. "You have no idea."
The stranger stepped closer, offering a hand. "Viktor."
Jayce blinked. Stared. Definitely for too long. He took the hand, swallowing against the inexplicable knot in his throat. "Jayce."
The handshake was brief, but it left Jayce’s pulse a little unsteady.
Bad. This was, decidedly, bad .
Viktor smirked, like he’d noticed. He probably had. Jayce was never the best at hiding his feelings. "Well, Jayce ,” he had to hold back a shiver as his name rolled off of Viktor’s tongue with that velvety accent. “It seems you’ve had quite the disaster. Would you like assistance, or would you prefer to wrestle the wind for your linens a little longer?"
Jayce groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Please help me."
Viktor hummed, bending down carefully to pick up a swatch of fabric. He inspected it with a critical eye before glancing back at Jayce. "Tell me, are you usually this coordinated?"
Jayce exhaled sharply. "I promise I’m not always a walking disaster. Just… sometimes."
Viktor chuckled. "Good to know."
Jayce cleared his throat, desperate to regain composure. "So, uh—what are you doing here? Getting married?" ( Has someone already swept you off your feet or can I do it please, his unwarranted intrusive thoughts (un)helpfully supplied.)
Viktor’s expression remained amused, but something wry flickered in his gaze. "Haha, no. I don’t believe in love, actually."
Jayce blinked.
Error. Does not compute.
Viktor, entirely unfazed, twirled a fabric sample between his fingers. "I’m Vi’s best man. And also the only one with any design prowess." He pursed his lips, turning it over. "I’m an engineer." A pause, and he didn’t even glance at Jayce before tossing the sample into the wind and letting it float away. Jayce let out a cry of protest, but Viktor only shrugged and said, “Flawed design. Would not have worked.”
Jayce gawked at him, torn between horror and dumbstruck fascination. “You can’t just—just chuck things into the wind ! I—Wait, what do you mean, ‘flawed design’?” He had made it himself.
Viktor finally looked at him, unimpressed. “Do you truly wish for an explanation? Because it is a long one.”
Jayce opened his mouth, then closed it. Then opened it again, but the way Viktor arched a knowing brow made him hesitate. “...Maybe later?”
“Smart choice,” Viktor hummed, smirking before stepping past him toward the entrance.
Jayce was left standing there, still holding the rest of the samples but utterly distracted, his gaze helplessly trailing after the sharp lines of Viktor’s frame, the sweep of his amber hair, the confidence in his stride.
Jayce stood there, rooted to the spot, heart pounding in his chest like he’d just run up the entire flight of stairs instead of tripping at the bottom like an idiot. Viktor disappeared inside, but Jayce barely noticed the weight of the samples in his arms anymore. All he could think about was the flash of gold in Viktor’s eyes, the curve of his smirk, the way his voice curled around his words like he was always in on some joke no one else could hear.
And that hair. That stupidly soft-looking, tousled amber hair that caught the light just right.
Jayce exhaled sharply, tilting his head back toward the sky as if divine intervention would strike him down for being this much of a simp within five minutes of meeting a guy.
“Oh, I am so doomed,” he muttered under his breath.
Then, as if waking from a trance, he jolted back into action, nearly tripping again as he hurried after Viktor, completely abandoning any thoughts of wedding samples in favor of honey eyes and a sharp smirk.
-💍💍💍-
Jayce stumbled into the venue, barely registering the lavish décor or the way Mel was already waiting for him, arms crossed, eyebrows raised. He dumped the samples onto the table without ceremony, completely missing the way Mel’s lips twitched in amusement.
“You’re late,” she drawled.
“Uh-huh,” Jayce replied absentmindedly, still craning his neck slightly, like he could catch one last glimpse of amber hair if he just—
Mel’s eyes narrowed. “Alright, who is it?” She was stupidly good at reading people. Or maybe Jayce was just horrible at being subtle. Probably both.
Jayce snapped back to reality so fast he nearly got whiplash. “What? No one. I mean, nothing. I mean—what were we talking about?”
Mel smirked. “We weren’t. But now I really want to.”
Jayce groaned, dragging a hand through his hair and down his face. “There is nothing to talk about. Can we focus on the wedding?”
Mel hummed, skeptical but merciful—for now. “Fine. But when you inevitably crack under pressure, I want details.”
And oh, did he crack.
It happened days later, during a full-blown meltdown over centerpiece arrangements of all things. Caitlyn had barely sat him down, put a cup of tea in his hands, and told him to breathe when it all came spilling out.
So now, Jayce was slumped over Caitlyn’s kitchen table, hands buried in his hair, sobbing into the wood like it held the answers to his problems.
“I’m doomed, Cait,” he groaned, voice muffled. “I met this guy—”
“Oh no,” Cait deadpanned.
“—and he’s gorgeous and brilliant and so out of my league, and I tripped in front of him, Cait. Tripped. Like a clumsy idiot. And then he just looked at me with his stupidly pretty golden eyes and his stupid accent and his stupid amber hair— ”
Caitlyn’s eyebrows shot up. “Amber hair?”
Jayce froze.
Cait tilted her head, eyes narrowing like a hawk that had just spotted its prey. “Golden eyes?”
Jayce sat up too fast. “No.”
Caitlyn’s smirk was dangerous. “Oh my Gods. ”
“ NO. ”
Cait grinned like she’d just won a shooting competition . Vi was getting to him. “You’re in love with Viktor. ”
Jayce made a strangled noise. “I am not —”
“Oh, you so are.”
Jayce groaned, face-planting onto the table again. “Why am I like this?”
Caitlyn patted his shoulder, barely containing her laughter. “I don’t know. But if it helps, I heard he’s gay.”
Jayce smiled into the table. “ Fuck yes . ”
But his victory was short-lived.
Because the next day, Caitlyn walked in, looking entirely too pleased with herself, and said, “So. Bad news.”
Jayce stared at her, heart immediately dropping. “No.”
“He’s bringing someone to the wedding as a plus one.”
“ FUCK. ”