Chapter Text
“Get it together, Talis!”
Dmitri yells the sentence while sprinting across the court, after a member of their opposition manages to slap the basketball out of Jayce’s hand.
Jayce exhales sharply, pivoting with a horrible squeak of his shoes and chasing after the flash of dark blue.
He, barely, catches up to the person he’s marking, jumping up to intercept a three-pointer. The blonde dude on his team yells for a pass, and he chucks it with a tad too much force before running to the frontcourt. He vaguely hears the crowd cheer under the thrum of his heart in his eardrums, electricity coursing through veins terrifyingly close to his skin.
His eyes flit between swift passes of his cyan-clothed teammates. Left, right- the score’s tied, there’s about eight seconds left of the game. His pulse screams, becoming crazed, reverberating through his skull and shaky limbs.
He receives a pass after a ball fake, palms sweaty as he calculates the best route for a lay-up. Step once, step twice and–
He scores. Quicker than he has time to process. The relief curls up comfortably in his chest, soothing like lukewarm medicine.
The crowd is ecstatic, reduced in his mind to nothing but a cult of avid fans.
What happens after - it’s a blur. He’s grinning wide, high-fiving his pumped teammates, wiping sweat from his forehead. It’s a routine, recurring, ingrained into muscle memory.
The scoreboard reads “61:59”. The end of the game approaches like a breath of fresh air.
“AND THE CROWD GOES WIIIIIIILD!” Vi motioned exaggeratedly, turning to walk backwards and nearly knocking Caitlyn’s drink out of her hand. “You in the finals now?”
They strode down the hall with a confident air, brandishing an established sense of victory. Jayce shook his head, chewing on an obnoxious mouthful of protein bar, crushed from residing at the bottom of his bag. Caitlyn huffed amusedly and shifted her latte over to her left hand.
“They’re in the quarters. My team, however, has secured a place in the finals of our tournament.”
Jayce swallowed down and half-assed glared at Caitlyn. Vi went “Ooooohh”, which served to instead crack a grin on his face.“Sibling rivalry,” they muttered, and Caitlyn’s arrogance too softened into a smile.
“I’m happy for you, jokes aside. It’s not easy to beat Erenton College–” A few fellow second years interrupted to congratulate him, one particularly tall man patting him on the back hard enough for him to choke. “...And that lay-up at the end was perfectly executed. Finally acknowledging my advice?”
He chuckled, playing along with a shrug. “I learn from the best.”
He scrunched up the wrapper of his protein bar, pretended to shoot into a distant bin. It bounced inside, like a basketball hitting the rim. “Show off,” Vi snorted.
Jayce hardly had time to roll his eyes before a door right beside him swung wide open like a mechanism to end his life. He stumbled back, barely avoiding a broken nose, ready to be met with someone careless that was likely to be Professor Heimerdinger.
Instead, a slender man slipped out.
Lithe, graceful, completely unashamed. Eyes softly piercing and hoodie perfectly baggy around his limbs, like a compliment. He spared a glance at Jayce before slowly shutting the door with the ferrule of his intricately painted cane. An elongated creak filled the newfound silence between the group.
It was that attractive student who occasionally attended the university’s robotics society. The one always sat in the first row, middle-left of Jayce’s mechanics lectures.
The student had always stood out to him, no matter his unbothered persona. He harboured a nature that was silently confident - two ear piercings, band tees, bleached highlights on sharp hair. An art of self-expression. A muted spotlight, visible to the scarily observant. Like all his outfits were carefully crafted under copper chains, personality exuding through the cracks like satin.
Jayce had been itching for an excuse to talk to him, after spotting a Deftones t-shirt under one of his ragged flannels.
The door shut with a loud slam, the thick atmosphere froze time for a split second. The man simply averted his gaze and walked away.
Jayce stared at the back of his head in disbelief.
He scoffed, yelling after him, “Aren’t you gonna apologise!?”
The man turned. Dim lighting caught the reflective silver of stacked necklaces, over an unironed Star Wars t-shirt and a plain brown satchel adorned with badges. He sucked in a breath through his teeth in sarcasm and raised his eyebrows.
“Be polite next time, and I will consider it.”
He offered pursed lips before he drifted away, leaving a comical expression on Jayce’s face.
Vi scoffed, turning to walk forward again.
Caitlyn nudged him in the side. “Not worth it.”
They resigned to continue their aimless wander around the college.
“Why… are people so entitled?” Vi muttered, pondering out loud, maneuvering as to not trip over Jayce’s undone shoelaces.
He shrugged. “That guy’s in my mechanics lectures.” His voice dropped to a mumble. “He’s… kinda hot.”
The other two gasped in synchronisation. Vi chuckled and Caitlyn shook her head.
After a long day consisting of a 9am basketball match, attending a couple lectures, ditching robotics society once again - Jayce finally trekked to his dorm. He unlocked the door with a click, stepping inside with a sigh. He half-slammed it shut with the lethargy of an overworked miner.
He plopped his rucksack down, surrendered in a heap onto his bed, emitting an embarrassing noise of satisfaction when met with the extraordinary comfort.
His eyes closed for a godsent two and a quarter seconds before he heard a loud laugh from across the room.
“The fuck was that noise?”
He startled, however unmoving from the position on his stomach. He would roll his eyes under his glued eyelids, if he could.
“Shut up,” he croaked in reply.
The voice laughed again, and footsteps approached his bed. Gradually, reluctantly. It ceased.
Jayce peeked through his eyelashes. He was greeted with lucent green irises, hair undone from the usual ponytail. A wide smile, smooth and crinkled skin, undeniably warm.
“You did great in the game today,” the voice softened. A scrunch of the nose. “Maaayybe I’m a little hard on you. Sometimes. Occasionally.”
Jayce shifted onto his back, facing his roommate. He failed to feign aggravation and instead cracked into a tired laugh.
“Always, is the word.”
Dmitri was the captain of Runic College’s basketball team. Of course, he must automatically be all of the above - athletic, charismatic, intelligent, a painfully incredible person overall.
And of course, Jayce must automatically be agonisingly jealous.
Despite his efforts, he was always the slightly weird and out-of-place one on the team. Sure, girls asked him out, yet solely regarding his looks. They pursed their lips in silent disapproval when he inevitably ranted about Dungeons and Dragons, after being questioned about what he does in his free time.
His grades last year were immaculate, earning him the “nerd” title, replacing “geek” when he stopped wearing gemstone jewellery and t-shirts with designs of intricate fungi. He’d replaced his fashion sense with simplicity, stud earrings and bland hoodies, much to Caitlyn’s disapproval.
It didn’t bother him. He ached to be seen as something more pleasant than what he is. Preferable than the freak he’s accused of being by the highest social status of their university. Preferable than the rumours replicating like bacteria, like a creature insipid.
He couldn’t afford to live through the loneliness and horror of high school again. University needed to be a place where he crafted friendships, no matter if it cost half his personality.
“Am I that detrimental to your self-esteem, Talis?”
Jayce rubbed a heavy hand down his face.
Maybe, he hypothesised.
“Yes,” he huffed sarcastically. “And for the last goddamn time, just call me Jayce.”
Dmitri hummed, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, wood creaking under his weight, socked feet stretched out in front of him.
“But it’s fun calling you Talis. It sounds like talisman. Like you’re a charm that’ll keep me safe wherever I go.”
Jayce exhaled sharply, not quite a laugh.
Dmitri was right. He felt like an accessory, leashed to his owner’s wrist bearing red tension marks all over his throat. The strange best friend, battling the queer allegations on a weekly basis to protect his dignity. If anyone found out about his month-long crush on Dmitri in first year - fuck, he’d never hear the end of it.
He was unsure if he adored or despised him at this point.
His roommate was so casual, so placid, unaware of the psychoanalytical lens Jayce viewed him through on a daily basis. Blissfully ignorant on how much he craved to replicate his personality, his thoughts, his phenotype.
“Go do your fucking homework, Dmitri,” he grumbled, curling up on his undone bed.
The man laughed, head thrown back. He swung off the mattress, uncannily cheery for a random Tuesday in late November.
Jayce barged into the hall about fourteen minutes after the lecture had begun. Professor Heimerdinger took one look at his heavy breathing and scruffy hair, sparing him with a simple nod.
He swallowed down the horror of hundreds of students his age, the nightmare of being stared through the thin layers of his skin.
He took a seat that differed from his usual. First row, middle-left.
He pulled out his stationary and notebook, all the necessities while he attempted to pay attention to the Professor’s every syllable.
All the while, he felt a pair of eyes on his temple. His pulse raced, both adrenaline from running and the anxiety. His lips twitched and he set his bag under the desk, glancing to his right.
“...Is this because I did not apologise?” the man next to him whispered sharply, thick-accented.
Jayce let an awkward smile form on his face.
“I just wanted to tell you that Deftones are my favourite band,” he whispered back.
His muscles were tight, watching as the man’s expression turned exceedingly confused.
His bright eyes were rimmed with kajal, hair calculatedly messy so a few thick strands swooped across his forehead. Bleached blonde spiked behind his ears, of which at closer glance beared earrings of wasps and four-pointed stars.
Jayce admired him already. It seemed as if he wore whatever he wished to, did whatever he wished to.
“You are… sitting next to me, for the sole purpose of telling me that you enjoy Deftones.” he stated slowly, somehow still writing a few notes down from Heimerdinger’s intriguing ramblings. “...because, I assume, you saw me wearing a t-shirt of the band.”
Jayce nodded enthusiastically. What the actual fuck is he doing.
The man turned his full body to Jayce, blunt knife eyes and vintage t-shirt and all. His gaze was still puzzled, painstakingly analytical, as if tracing every curve and dent of his visage to evaluate his true intentions.
“And… it did not seem like an odd thing to do?”
The whisper seared through Jayce’s skull, and he felt a neon flush crawl up the length of his neck. He looked away briefly, fingers subtly moving to fiddle with his childhood bracelet under his hoodie sleeve.
“I- I mean, I don’t know anyone in real life who likes Deftones,” he began, whispering more timidly than before.
The other’s eyes calmed, as if deducing that the interaction meant no harm. He nodded slowly, lips turning into a line.
“A shame. They’re incredible.”
Jayce felt a sense of comfort soothing his nerves once the man became more casual, the relief dripping like honey on his cold skin. He smiled and picked up his pen for no apparent reason, writing the date out of need to move his hands.
“I know, right? I-”
“Name five songs.”
Jayce looked over and gaped at him. The classic demand, to determine whether the person in question was a real fan or not.
“You’re challenging me?” He scoffed quietly. “Dude, I don’t even know your name.”
The man’s lips curled, sly and amused. It suited him wonderfully.
“It’s Viktor. Now, name five songs.”
Jayce stared blankly, slightly irritated. He was certain he could recite their entire discography.
“Change, Digital Bath, Mascara, Root, Cherry Waves.”
He studied the man’s, Viktor’s, expression. He raised his eyebrows, dryly unimpressed. “You’ve done your research. Well done.”
Jayce huffed, drawing a small star in the corner of his notebook. “It’s not research. I’ve been singing tracks from Around the Fur since I was nine.”
Viktor clicked his teeth, clasping his hands on top of the desk.
“What is your favourite song?”
Jayce clenched his jaw. It sounded basic, but, “Be Quiet and Drive.”
The other man’s smile widened, fingertips drumming together like an evil plot device of a cartoon villain. “Fake fan.”
Jayce’s jaw dropped, whispering harshly in reply. “Excuse me? Just because my favourite song’s popular, does not mean that I’m a fake fan–”
They were interrupted by a loud clearing of a throat, whipping their heads around to be met with Professor Heimerdinger raising a bushy eyebrow at the two students. They both straightened their posture, Jayce whispering a “sorry”, which echoed in the silence of the hall. The lecture progressed.
The two were silent for the rest of the lecture, too afraid to interrupt Heimerdinger again. Jayce had made a few A4 pages of scrawly notes, like always, glancing over to Viktor’s notebook - an intriguing mix of immaculate handwriting and a few atrociously illegible sentences.
Viktor swiftly grabbed his cane and rose after the lecture had concluded, having already packed up his belongings. Jayce stuffed his notes into his bag and swung it over one shoulder, hurrying to catch up to him.
“Mr Talis!”
The voice caused a jump of his heart, a halt in his tracks. His shoulders hunched, and he internally winced.
The memory hit him like a loaded truck. He’d never submitted that report on his individual project. Janna, he completely forgot.
Viktor took one fleeting glance at Jayce, a slight upturn of his lips as he exited the room.
Jayce turned on his heel, inhaling as he plastered a wavering toothy smile on his face. He dodged past the rush of students, approaching the expectant Professor.
“You've surpassed the deadline for your prototype report.”
Jayce’s smile tightened to a line and he bounced once on the balls of his feet.
“It’s- um- I’ll get it to you soon, Professor.”
Heimerdinger gave him a slightly disbelieving look, watching as the last of the students filed out the hall. He stepped closer to Jayce, staring sternly up at the man despite their comical height difference.
“This is nowhere near the first time a deadline has been missed by you. If you maintain this routine, I’ll have no choice but to lower your grades for this term.”
Jayce’s heart dropped to his feet, lungs tightening. He nodded slowly, lips still tight. Heimerdinger’s serious nature turned into a heavy sigh, a shaking of his head.
“I don’t know what’s happened, my boy. You were extraordinarily bright last year, in many different aspects.”
Jayce’s heart ached at his resigned words. He must be referring to his faltering academic performance, dullened fashion sense, emerging eyebags, lack of participation in lectures–
“I’ve read all your independent theories about three times by now. You have such potential. Please, do yourself a favour. Harness it.”
When Jayce failed to answer, defeatedly staring at the floor, Heimerdinger gave him a small pat on the shoulder and shuffled past towards the exit. Abruptly, he snapped his fingers.
“Oh! And I want that report in my office by Monday.”