Work Text:
The lab hummed with the quiet symphony of academia: the soft whirring of cooling fans, the rhythmic tapping of a keyboard, and the occasional scratch of pen against paper. It was the kind of afternoon where time blurred, the weight of research heavy on their shoulders, but neither Jayce nor Viktor spoke. They didn’t need to.
A well-worn rhythm had settled between them, one built on familiarity and the quiet efficiency of two minds in sync. Jayce, brow furrowed in thought, reached for a wrench on the cluttered workbench, only to find Viktor already holding it out to him without looking up from his screen. Jayce took it with a murmured "Thanks," and Viktor only hummed in response, his fingers continuing to fly over his keyboard.
Minutes passed, filled only with the rustling of papers and the occasional clink of metal. Jayce scribbled out a half-formed equation, frowning as he hit a snag, and without a word, slid the page across the table. Viktor glanced at it, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips, and turned the page around, adding a correction with a quick flick of his pen before pushing it back. Jayce exhaled, part frustration, part appreciation, before making the adjustment and nodding his thanks.
This effortless exchange of tools, solutions, and silent understanding was an unspoken language between them.
That was until Jayce’s phone rang.
He barely glanced at the caller ID before answering, his voice shifting into something softer, smoother. “Mamá, ¿cómo estás?” (How are you?)
The warmth in his tone was immediate, melting away the edge of the stress he usually carried. Viktor, hunched over his laptop across the room, didn’t look up, but his fingers hesitated over the keyboard.
“Sí, sí, estoy comiendo bien, te lo prometo.” (Yes, yes, I’m eating well, I promise.) A pause. “Dormir? Claro, duermo suficiente.” (Sleep? Of course, I sleep enough.)
Jayce chuckled at something his mother said, his voice turning indulgent, affectionate. Viktor didn’t understand much after that. His knowledge of Spanish was rudimentary at best, but it didn’t matter. He could feel the tenderness in Jayce’s voice, the way his words stretched and curved like sun-warmed honey.
It was home.
Viktor kept his eyes on his screen, fingers idly scrolling through his code, but he wasn’t reading. He was listening and letting the cadence of Jayce’s Spanish settle into the space between them. It suited him, Viktor thought absently. That warmth, that care was something so deeply woven into Jayce’s very being. He wouldn’t say it aloud, of course, but it was nice.
When Jayce finally ended the call, he stretched, arms reaching high above his head as his spine popped in a satisfying crack. He rolled his shoulders, sighing before settling back into his work, but not before catching the way Viktor’s fingers had stilled over his keyboard.
Viktor cleared his throat, pretending he hadn’t just spent the last five minutes wholly distracted. “That was your mother, yes? Ximena?”
Jayce grinned, clearly pleased that Viktor remembered her name. “Yeah. She wanted to make sure I was eating and sleeping well.” He let out a short laugh. “Which, you know, I totally am.”
Viktor shot him a flat, unimpressed look. “Liar.”
Jayce chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Alright, maybe not as much as I should. But she also asked about you.”
Viktor blinked, clearly caught off guard. “She did?”
Jayce nodded, his expression warm. “She wanted to know how you were doing. Said you work too hard.” He smirked, nudging Viktor’s arm lightly. “Guess she knows talent when she sees it.”
Viktor huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. He looked down at his hands for a moment before allowing a small, genuine smile to cross his lips. “That is… kind of her. I appreciate her care.” His voice was softer now, thoughtful in a way Jayce rarely heard outside of their work.
Jayce watched him for a second longer before leaning in conspiratorially. “She also told me to make sure you eat, so if I’m going down, I’m taking you with me.”
Viktor rolled his eyes but couldn’t quite hide his amusement. “Then I suppose I have no choice.”
Jayce grinned, satisfied, and with that, the two returned to their work. Viktor’s fingers tapped over his keyboard once more, and Jayce, now with a little more lightness in his chest, flipped through his notes.
_____
The café was packed, the low hum of conversation blending with the steady hiss of the espresso machines. The scent of freshly brewed coffee curled through the air, mixing with the distant scent of rain drifting in from the open doors. Jayce had only stopped by for a quick caffeine fix—just a shot of espresso to keep him going through the afternoon slump—but as he stood in line, waiting for his turn at the register, a familiar voice caught his attention.
"Well, well, if it isn’t Mr. Muscles," Jinx drawled from behind the counter, her bright blue eyes sparkling with mischief as she leaned onto the register. "Didn’t take you for the ‘café stop in the middle of a work bender’ type."
Jayce snorted, rolling his eyes as he tapped his order into the screen. "Yeah, yeah. Some of us need caffeine to survive." He glanced at her name tag half hanging off her apron, the ‘J’ scribbled over with a sharpie doodle of a bomb, and raised an eyebrow. "Didn’t take you for the ‘gainfully employed’ type."
Jinx gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to her chest. "Excuse you! I am a model employee. A treasured asset. A—"
"A single write-up away from being fired," a voice from the kitchen called out, followed by muffled laughter from another barista.
Jinx made a face, then shrugged. "Eh. Semantics."
Jayce chuckled, slipping his card into the reader before nodding toward the café. "You here alone today?"
Jinx perked up. "Nope! My dads are here. Came to check in on me and Vik." She jerked her chin toward the corner of the café, where a familiar figure sat by the window. "Speak of the devil."
Jayce followed her gaze and felt his breath hitch. Viktor, tucked into the corner near the rain-slicked glass, was speaking. But not in English. Not in the dry, calculated tone he used in the lab.
Czech.
Jayce had never heard Viktor speak it before. He’d known, of course, in the way one knows arbitrary facts about their friends. Viktor was from Zaun, he had a different first language, but knowing and hearing were two different things entirely.
Viktor leaned forward slightly, his expression relaxed, lips curving into a small smile as he gestured with his free hand. Across from him sat two older men, both exuding a presence that made them impossible to overlook. One of them, broad and weathered, with a thick beard peppered with gray, leaned forward as he listened, nodding along to Viktor’s words. The other, lean and sharp-eyed, sat back with an air of quiet observation, his gaze flicking between Viktor and the café like he was assessing every possible threat.
Jayce barely understood a word, but he didn’t need to. It was the way Viktor spoke so animated in a way Jayce rarely saw, his usual sharpness softened into something more intimate. His lips curled slightly as he said something that made the bearded man laugh, his eyes glinting with amusement as he leaned into the conversation.
Jayce had seen them before, in passing, but never like this. Never like family.
He couldn't understand most of it, but he could hear the ease in Viktor’s voice, the way he let the words flow, how they softened when the gruff man—Vander, if Jayce remembered correctly—gave him a hearty pat on the back. Silco, the quieter of the two, smirked at something Viktor said, his sharp gaze fond despite its ever-present calculation. Viktor responded with a roll of his eyes, shaking his head in exasperation, but there was something affectionate in it, something light.
Jayce barely recognized him like this. No sharp wit, no exhaustion pressing at the edges of his words. Just Viktor, unguarded.
The sight sent something warm curling in Jayce’s chest. It wasn’t just the language—though it was striking, hearing Viktor’s words flow so naturally, so freely. It was the feeling. The way he belonged here, in a way Jayce had never seen in the lab.
He hadn’t meant to stare, but when Viktor turned slightly, he caught sight of Jayce lingering near the counter. His brows lifted in mild surprise before something unreadable flickered across his face. Jayce caught, cleared his throat, and hastily grabbed his coffee.
Viktor smirked. "Spying, Jayce?"
Jayce lifted his cup in mock defense. "Just getting coffee."
"Mm." Viktor studied him for a moment before huffing a quiet laugh and shaking his head. He turned back to his conversation, seamlessly slipping back into Czech.
Jayce lingered a second longer, taking a sip of his drink, ignoring the way his heartbeat stuttered at the sound of Viktor’s voice as he tumbled back into the lab
It was a mess.
Papers were scattered across the desks, half-erased equations smudged on the whiteboard, and at least three empty coffee cups sat precariously close to the edge of Jayce’s workstation. The air buzzed with the quiet hum of late-night desperation. It was the kind that came with looming deadlines and the knowledge that sleep was a luxury they couldn’t afford.
Jayce leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly. His head was pounding, his muscles stiff from hours hunched over their notes, and he knew for a fact that Viktor wasn’t faring much better.
Across the room, Viktor stood in front of the whiteboard, marker in hand, scribbling down formulas with precise, quick strokes. His brows were furrowed in concentration, his lips pressed together in thought as he adjusted a variable, then stepped back to analyze his work. He didn’t even seem to notice the exhaustion clinging to him, the way his hair had started to slip from its usual neatness, a few stray strands curling against his forehead.
Jayce did.
Jayce always noticed.
His gaze softened, something warm and aching curling in his chest as he watched Viktor work. So brilliant, so relentless, pushing through his own exhaustion like it was nothing. Of course he was still standing, still working, even as the clock inched past the ungodly hours of the night.
Jayce exhaled, dragging a hand through his own hair, messing it up further, and letting his tired mind wander for just a moment too long.
"Si supiera lo mucho que lo amo…" he muttered under his breath, his voice low and reverent.
Viktor, still focused on the whiteboard, didn’t react. At least, not in the way Jayce feared. He didn’t turn, didn’t flinch. But his grip on the marker tightened ever so slightly, his breath hitching in his throat.
Because Viktor had heard. And while he didn’t understand the words, he understood the tone. The way Jayce’s voice had softened, quiet and reverent, like something delicate held between his hands. It made something twist deep in Viktor’s chest, a feeling he had no name for, but one he recognized all the same.
His fingers curled against the marker, and before he could stop himself, before his own tired brain could filter his words, he sighed—soft, wistful, barely more than a breath—
"Je nemožné se do něj nezamilovat…"
Jayce didn’t react.
Viktor, watching from the corner of his eye, convinced himself that was a good thing. That Jayce hadn’t caught the way his voice had gone unbearably fond, hadn’t noticed the way he lingered on the words like a confession he could never say aloud. But if Viktor had looked closer—if he had turned around, just a fraction—he would have caught the way Jayce’s fingers twitched, the way his lips parted, the way his eyes softened just a little too much at the sound of Viktor’s voice.
Instead, they returned to their work, both unaware of how dangerously close they were to being found out. Neither realizing that the only thing keeping their secrets safe was their own blind faith that the other would never understand.
Mel Medarda had learned long ago how to navigate the chaos of this particular lab. She had seen every stage of its disorder—from the caffeine-fueled late-night breakdowns to the triumphant, half-delirious celebrations when something finally worked. Jayce and Viktor were brilliant, dedicated, and hopelessly stubborn, which meant keeping them on track was equal parts mentorship and babysitting. She strolled in, her heels clicking softly against the tile, carrying an air of effortless authority.
“Tell me you have something to show me,” she said, directing her words to Jayce, who was closest.
Jayce startled slightly like he’d been caught off guard. “Huh? Oh, yeah, yeah. We’re making progress.” He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly very aware that he hadn’t actually moved in the last several minutes.
Mel arched a perfectly shaped brow, unimpressed. “You better be.”
Viktor, seemingly too engrossed in his work to acknowledge her, was hunched over a circuit board at the far end of the lab. His long fingers moved with precise efficiency, adjusting delicate wiring and tapping out lines of code with an almost thoughtless grace. The faintest furrow of concentration lined his brow, his lips pressing together in thought.
Jayce wasn’t looking at Mel. He wasn’t even listening to Mel.
He was staring completely and helplessly as the soft afternoon light filtered through the window, catching in Viktor’s hair and turning the usual mess of golden-brown strands into something almost ethereal. Dust motes danced in the glow around him like the world itself had decided to pause in quiet admiration. The light traced the precise slope of his nose and the delicate lines of his jaw, and Jayce felt the sudden, aching weight of it settle in his chest.
He’s too beautiful. It’s not fair.
A soft sigh escaped before he could stop it, his voice slipping into the language that felt safest, most natural in moments of unguarded thought. "No creo que mi corazón pueda soportar más de su belleza." (I don’t think my heart can take any more of his beauty.)
Mel’s lips curled into a knowing smirk. Jayce didn’t notice, but she had. She leaned against the table beside Jayce, crossing her arms, a glint of mischief sparking in her eyes.
“Well,” she said, in a voice just loud enough to make him blink and finally turn to her, “that’s certainly one way to confess.”
Jayce frowned. “What?”
Mel’s smirk widened. “I wasn’t aware you two were already professing your undying love for each other,” she said, tilting her head toward Viktor. “But, honestly, I expected it to take a little longer.”
Jayce froze. His brain caught up all at once, realization crashing down like a bolt of lightning, and his face burned so red he thought for a second he might actually die. Because Mel Medarda was a polyglot. And Mel Medarda had just heard everything.
Jayce was still in the middle of processing his impending doom when Viktor, entirely oblivious to the slow-motion train wreck unfolding just a few feet away, pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with an absent-minded sigh. His golden eyes flickered over the screen, fingers tapping in subtle frustration as he reviewed the latest data set. His expression softened just barely, the tiniest hint of exasperated fondness settling on his face as he tilted his head toward the window, toward where Jayce sat bathed in golden light, looking every bit like a painting come to life.
"Samozřejmě, že Jayce musel vypadat ještě dokonalejší než obvykle." (Of course, Jayce had to look even more perfect than he already does.)
Mel inhaled sharply, pressing her lips together to suppress her delight. Jayce, still caught up in his own catastrophic realization, was too busy gaping at her like a man waiting for the ground to swallow him whole. But she had heard. She had understood.
Mel turned her gaze to Viktor, who remained completely engrossed in his work, utterly convinced that his secret was safe. And then she looked back at Jayce, whose mortified expression was quickly shifting from oh god she knows to wait, what did Viktor just say? The corners of her lips curled into something wickedly amused. This was so much better than she expected.
“Well,” she said, feigning casual interest as she leaned back against the lab bench, crossing her arms, “this is adorable. ”
Jayce whipped toward her, panic flashing in his eyes. “You— wait —you understood that too?”
Mel smirked. Viktor, still unaware of the impending disaster looming over him, merely let out a soft sigh, adjusting his code. “If you two are done whispering, I would love it if someone could check these calculations.”
Mel barely held in her laughter. Oh, this was so much fun.
Jayce cleared his throat awkwardly, attempting to regain some semblance of professionalism as he pushed his mortification aside. He shuffled toward Viktor, pretending to focus on the data. He hovered beside Viktor’s workstation, leaning in just enough to check the calculations that Viktor had painstakingly entered into the system. But as his eyes moved over the numbers, his attention kept drifting to Viktor. He couldn’t help himself. He caught the way Viktor’s fingers brushed the keyboard with ease, the faint furrow of his brow, the way his lips pursed in concentration, almost unconsciously. There was a kind of quiet grace to it all. And the warmth in Jayce’s chest, the one he had been fighting to suppress, crept back up.
Viktor, too, wasn’t entirely oblivious. His eyes flickered over to Jayce, catching the fleeting look of admiration in Jayce’s gaze. The way Jayce’s expression softened, the way his lips parted slightly like he wanted to say something but couldn’t. Viktor didn’t let himself linger on it for too long, but his heart did skip a beat.
For a moment, there was a kind of unspoken understanding between them. It was subtle, just the briefest exchange of glances, but there was so much in it. A fondness that neither was prepared to admit but which was clear in the way their gazes connected. Viktor’s usually sharp, calculating eyes softened slightly, his chest tightening with that same feeling he had grown far too familiar with. Jayce’s eyes lingered a little longer than they should have, the warmth in his chest spreading, blooming. An undeniable affection.
It was only when the sound of Mel’s voice broke the spell that they both turned, startled. "Am I interrupting?"
Jayce, almost embarrassed by how stupid he must have looked, straightened up and backed away from Viktor’s desk. "Right," he muttered, clearing his throat again. "Calculations check out."
Viktor nodded, eyes darting back to the screen, though there was still a trace of that softened gaze that hadn't fully disappeared. The distance between them felt heavier now, laden with everything unsaid. As the two of them returned to their work, Mel, who had been watching the entire exchange with amusement, blinked slowly. She looked from one to the other, a sly smirk tugging at her lips.
“You two do realize I speak Czech, right?” she asked casually, her tone light but filled with knowing.
The words hit Viktor like a cold splash of water. His body stiffened, the muscles in his back locking as he turned toward her, his expression hardening in an instant. His jaw clenched tightly, and his gaze narrowed with a mix of suspicion and a touch of panic. For a moment, Viktor's mind raced, trying to calculate his next move. The last thing he wanted was for anyone, even Mel Medarda, to get the wrong impression or, worse, share his secret with Jayce.
He straightened, stepping closer to her with an air of quiet menace, his voice low and dangerous in Czech. “Pokud se odvážíš říct Jaycovi něco, co jsem řekl, přivedu celou Zaun na tvou hlavu.” (If you dare tell Jayce anything I said, I will bring all of Zaun down on you.)
His words were clear, cutting through the air with the weight of a threat that was as real as it was chilling. Mel’s smirk never faltered, though. She leaned against the desk nonchalantly, crossing her arms and tilting her head with that same mischievous gleam in her eyes.
“Oh, Viktor,” she said, her voice teasing but underpinned with amusement, “you’re a real charmer, aren’t you?”
Viktor’s glare intensified, but he could see it in her eyes. She wasn’t afraid. In fact, she was enjoying the whole situation. His warning hadn’t fazed her in the least.
Mel’s smile only widened. “But don’t worry, I’m not the type to spill secrets,” she added, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm. “Though I’m sure Jayce would be fascinated to know just how soft you are.”
Viktor couldn’t help the deep sigh that escaped him, his glare softening into something almost defeated. Damn it.
Mel’s smirk deepened, and with a small wink, she turned to leave the lab. "Keep up the good work, boys," she called over her shoulder, leaving the two of them to stew in the uncomfortable tension she had so expertly created.
As the door swung shut behind her, Jayce and Viktor were left in a silence that felt far too heavy, the unspoken words between them now an undeniable weight pressing down on both their chests. Neither of them was quite ready to confront what had just happened, but Mel had already planted the seed, and it was only a matter of time before the truth would find its way to the surface.
_____
A few days had passed since Mel's little surprise visit, but the tension in the lab hadn't faded. If anything, it had grown thicker, more palpable. The normally fluid collaboration between Jayce and Viktor had become stilted—every glance felt loaded, every word spoken just a bit too carefully. Neither of them could look at the other without the weight of that conversation lingering in the back of their minds. The silence between them had become suffocating, even as the deadlines for their project loomed closer.
Jayce could barely focus on the equations in front of him, his thoughts drifting away every time Viktor adjusted his glasses or shifted slightly in his seat. He caught himself glancing at Viktor more often than he should, and when their eyes met, they quickly looked away, both of them just as guilty as the other.
Viktor, on the other hand, seemed more agitated than usual. His calculations were sharp, but his movements were erratic. His hands would tap against the desk or his cane, his gaze darting to the screen only to look back to Jayce. It was as though something inside him was about to snap, something he couldn't quite put his finger on.
Finally, after a long stretch of silence, Viktor slammed his palm onto the desk, breaking the stillness.
“Jayce,” he said, his voice tight with frustration. “What is going on? You’ve been avoiding me for days. Is it the work? You’ve always been able to focus under pressure before. What’s different now?”
Jayce stiffened, startled by the sudden directness of Viktor’s question. He tried to brush it off with a half-hearted shrug, but Viktor wasn’t having it. He leaned forward, his gaze unwavering as he pinned Jayce with his attention.
Jayce's heart raced, and he cleared his throat before speaking. "It’s... nothing. Just tired, I guess." His voice sounded more defensive than he intended.
Viktor raised an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing. "Lying is a terrible habit, Jayce," he said, the words quiet but sharp. "I’ve known you long enough to recognize it."
Jayce clenched his jaw, unwilling to meet Viktor’s eyes. The words that had been eating at him for days now bubbled to the surface, despite his best efforts to suppress them.
"Mel," he muttered, the name slipping from his lips almost reluctantly. "She understands Spanish."
Viktor paused, blinking as if he hadn’t expected the topic to shift in that direction. His brow furrowed, and he pushed his glasses up his nose, his voice low and almost too calm. "She understands Czech, too."
Jayce froze. His heart thudded loudly in his chest as he slowly turned his head toward Viktor. Their eyes met—unspoken understanding flickering between them. Neither of them had dared acknowledge it out loud yet. The unspoken truth was that Mel had heard their confessions. That she knew.
The silence stretched on, the weight of it thickening with every passing second. Viktor opened his mouth, then closed it again, as if unsure what to say next. His gaze flickered to the side, avoiding Jayce's.
Finally, Jayce sighed, his breath shaky. "What did she tell you, Viktor?" The words were heavy, loaded with the frustration, embarrassment, and fear that had been swirling inside him for days. "What did she say?"
Viktor’s face flushed, an unexpected warmth spreading across his cheeks. He opened his mouth to speak, but his words faltered as if they had been caught somewhere deep in his throat. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably, tapping his cane lightly against the floor.
His fingers tightened around the handle of the cane, and he looked up at Jayce, his expression softening, though his eyes were still filled with that uncertain vulnerability. "She… she didn’t say much, Jayce," he murmured. "But I know that look she had in her eyes. The one who said she knew more than she should. But she didn’t say anything about what she overheard."
Jayce swallowed, his gaze dropping to his hands. He felt a sudden, inexplicable ache in his chest, like something was breaking inside him. A part of him had been afraid—afraid of what Mel might have told Viktor, afraid of what might happen if they both acknowledged what was between them.
Without warning, Viktor stood up, his cane tapping against the floor with a soft click. His gaze softened, and a faint blush crept onto his face, as if the vulnerability he was feeling now mirrored Jayce's.
"Come on," Viktor said, his voice low and gentle, as if attempting to smooth over the tension. "Would you like to take a walk with me to the courtyard? Maybe some fresh air will clear our heads."
Jayce stared at him for a moment, the tension still thick in the air between them. His heart pounded in his chest, and he was uncertain about how to respond. But there was something in Viktor’s eyes—the faint softness, the invitation of it all—that tugged at him.
He nodded slowly, pushing himself out of his chair. "Yeah. I think that sounds good."
They walked side by side in silence, the only sound of the soft click of Viktor’s cane and the quiet hum of the university building. As they passed through the corridors, the world outside seemed distant, as if nothing existed but the space between them and the weight of everything they hadn’t said.
When they reached the courtyard, Viktor gestured toward the benches, and the two of them sat down. The air was crisp, and the autumn leaves rustled in the breeze. For a long while, neither of them spoke. They simply sat there, close enough to feel the other’s presence but far enough apart that the space between them still felt like an unspoken barrier.
Viktor glanced at Jayce from the corner of his eye, noting the way his fingers twitched, the faint blush on his cheeks, and the subtle tension in his posture. The silence stretched, and Viktor, unable to keep the question bottled up any longer, broke it with a soft, curious voice.
"Why were you so worried about Mel understanding Spanish?" he asked, his gaze gentle yet probing. "You know it’s just a language, right?"
Jayce froze for a moment, the question catching him off guard. His breath hitched, and for a few seconds, he couldn’t form the words to respond. The truth hung heavy in the air, but Jayce wasn’t ready to let it out—not yet. He stared down at his hands, suddenly fascinated with the way his fingers played with the hem of his sleeve, as if that could distract him from the pressure in his chest.
He could feel Viktor’s gaze on him, patient but waiting. After a long beat of silence, Jayce finally let out a shaky sigh, his voice almost too soft to hear.
"Because," he began, his voice breaking slightly, "I... I was embarrassed." His words tumbled out before he could stop them. "I said things about you, Viktor. Things I didn’t think anyone would ever hear." He shifted, uncomfortable, his eyes darting over to Viktor only to quickly look away, as if the words themselves were too much to bear. "I said that I... like you."
The confession hung in the air between them, quiet but undeniable. Jayce’s chest tightened as he anxiously waited for Viktor’s response, unsure of how his feelings would be received. He stole a quick glance at Viktor, his heart pounding in his throat.
Viktor, stunned, blinked a few times, the words sinking in. His gaze softened, and a faint blush spread across his cheeks, though his usual calm demeanor didn’t waver. Jayce couldn’t help but notice the way Viktor’s hands clenched at his cane, as if trying to hold himself steady, but there was an undeniable warmth in his eyes.
The silence stretched again, but this time it felt different. It wasn’t tense—there was something unspoken between them, a quiet acknowledgment. Viktor’s lips twitched at the corners, and then, unexpectedly, he let out a quiet laugh. The sound was soft, almost incredulous, but filled with warmth. It caught Jayce off guard, and he blinked in confusion, his face flushing a deeper shade of red.
"Why are you laughing?" Jayce asked, his voice a little breathless, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Is something funny?"
Viktor’s smile grew wider, and there was a playful glint in his eyes. His expression softened as he met Jayce’s gaze, his voice low but filled with a fondness Jayce hadn’t expected.
"I was just thinking," Viktor said, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips, "I was also worried about Mel understanding Czech." He paused for a beat, and Jayce tilted his head, unsure where this was going. Viktor’s smile widened further, revealing the slight gap between his canine and incisor, something Jayce had never noticed until now but found strangely endearing.
"I was confessing how much I love you," Viktor continued, the words flowing out with surprising ease, though there was a slight flush still coloring his cheeks. "I suppose we both have some embarrassing confessions to make."
Jayce’s heart skipped a beat, the weight of Viktor’s words sinking in slowly, and for a long moment, he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. The tension he had felt for days—this unspoken barrier between them—suddenly felt like it was crumbling but in the best possible way. A shy smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he looked over at Viktor, his chest lighter than it had been in ages.
"I—" Jayce started, but he was cut off by another soft laugh from Viktor, the sound warm and affectionate.
"Shy now, Jayce?" Viktor teased, though his voice was still gentle. "I thought I’d be the one blushing, not you."
Jayce’s heart was still racing, the realization of Viktor’s confession lingering in his chest, but there was something else now. The air between them felt charged, as if the world had paused just long enough for them to see each other—really see each other. The walls that had kept them apart now felt so flimsy, like they could finally let them fall.
He shifted slightly, the warmth of Viktor’s presence overwhelming in the best way, and his fingers lightly traced the edge of his neck, brushing over the skin there as if searching for something, anything, to steady his trembling hands. His heart pounded, but now it was in anticipation, not fear. Viktor’s words echoed in his mind— "Je nemožné se do něj nezamilovat…"
Jayce took a deep breath and, with a faint tremor in his voice, finally asked, "What did you say in Czech?" His eyes searched Viktor’s face, hoping for an answer, craving the intimacy that his words hinted at.
Viktor hesitated for a fraction of a second, a flash of something unreadable passing through his gaze before he answered quietly, "I said it’s impossible not to fall for you." His voice was steady, but there was a raw sincerity to it that made Jayce’s chest tighten. Viktor’s eyes softened as he met his gaze, a silent understanding passing between them.
Jayce felt a warmth spread through him at the simplicity and depth of Viktor’s words. But there was still something he needed to know, something that had been lingering in his own chest. "And what did I say in Spanish?" he asked, voice softer now, almost shy.
Viktor raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a faint smile. "You said, 'Si supiera lo mucho que lo amo...' "
His accent was perfect, his tone rich with emotion, and Jayce felt the meaning of the words settle deep in his heart. It was too much, too beautiful, and Jayce suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe properly with how his chest swelled with feeling.
"What did that mean, Jayce?" Viktor asked.
Jayce swallowed, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. He glanced down, unable to meet Viktor’s gaze for a moment. But his heart was pounding too loudly now to ignore it, and he lifted his eyes again, catching Viktor’s gaze. "If only you knew how much I loved you..." Jayce hesitated, his voice almost lost in the space between them. He wasn’t used to this vulnerability, this openness, but for some reason, with Viktor, it felt so natural. "Did... Did you mean what you said?"
Viktor exhaled, his eyes flickering with a mix of tenderness and resolve. He leaned just slightly toward Jayce, his lips curling upward, and his voice was a soft rumble as he answered, "Did you?"
The question hung in the air, and Jayce’s chest tightened. The vulnerability in Viktor’s eyes mirrored his own, and for a moment, neither of them said anything. Jayce let out a quiet laugh, almost a sound of disbelief, before stepping closer, closing the gap between them. His hands found their way to Viktor’s arm, fingers brushing over his sleeve, the contact electric.
"I don’t think my heart can take it anymore," Jayce confessed, his voice barely above a whisper, but it was enough. It was all the answer Viktor needed.
Viktor’s smirk softened into something far more tender. His gaze darkened just slightly, filled with an unmistakable hunger and warmth. "Then let’s fix that, engineer."
Jayce didn’t need any more words. His pulse was erratic, his breath shallow, and before Viktor could say anything more, Jayce closed the distance between them with a kiss.
It was slow at first, tentative, as if they were both still uncertain in some way, but as their lips met, everything felt right. All the tension, all the words they had left unspoken, all the fears had melted away in that moment. Jayce felt Viktor’s hands move, steady and sure, as they slid around his waist, pulling him closer. The kiss deepened, slow and deliberate, a silent conversation that spoke louder than anything they could say.
And for the first time, neither of them needed another language to say what they meant. They didn’t need to speak in code, didn’t need to hide behind words that weren’t their own. In that kiss, in the heat and the closeness, they had everything they needed. Just them, finally free to be exactly who they were.