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In the year since they arrived, Jayce has only been to the local school once. The main boiler needed fixing at the time, and Jayce had made it his mission to accept any odd repair job in town in order to secure as much money as he possibly could.
The way feels only vaguely familiar now, many months later.
The school sits on a hillside at the edge of town, by a trail that leads to woods and vineyards. The slope isn't that steep, but enough for Jayce to curse his bad leg on the way up. Still, he doesn't slow down. He's on a mission this time too. A significantly less dire one for sure, but not any less important.
Viktor left home without his lunch this morning. Jayce found the paper bag in the kitchen, filled, ready to go. And though he'd love to say it's the sole reason he is climbing that hill in the middle of the day, there's also a certain curiosity to him.
He's never visited Viktor at school before. That's his space. His job, for a good few weeks now. Jayce didn't want to make him feel like he was hovering. Still, he can't help wondering what it's like. What he's like. When Viktor talks about his day, Jayce keeps picturing his own classroom from when he was a child, filling the gaps however he can. Do classrooms still even look like that now?
The hum of playing children grows louder with each step, until it becomes a healthy ruckus of voices and shouts. The playground comes into view behind a stone fence. Jayce looks around for any sign of Viktor, but he's nowhere to be seen. Lunch bag in hand, he enters the fray, narrowly avoiding two kids running at full speed, who barely notice his presence.
Locating the nearest adult isn't much of a challenge when most kids aren't taller than the fence. A woman is standing by a tall oak tree, keeping watch over the playground. She looks vaguely familiar, like someone he may have seen around town a few times. He's been spotted before he even opens his mouth to get her attention. It's not hard to stand out amdist a herd of six-year-olds when you're Jayce Talis, after all.
"Hi", he waves awkwardly, flashing his friendliest smile as he walks up to her. "I'm Jayce. I'm looking for—"
"Viktor," she finishes, her face lighting up with a smile of her own. "You're Viktor's Jayce."
Viktor's Jayce. There is no describing the feeling that bursts in his chest in that moment. Viktor's Jayce. Does he... talk about him? At work? Curiosity gnaws at him at the thought. Viktor is not one for small talk; Jayce would know. So for him to mention the existence of a partner, let alone make him recognizable at first glance...
"In the flesh," he beams, caught off guard by the racing of his own heartbeat.
"I figured. He's catching a break in his classroom."
She points at the school's main entrance and its big whitewashed doors.
"Second corridor to the right, then last door on the left. Can't miss it."
She mimes the way with her hands as she describes it, no doubt the result of years of guiding kids and parents alike around the building.
Jayce nods appreciatively.
"Thank you."
The inside of the building is pleasantly cool, the stillness of it clashing with the distant shouts and voices coming from outside. Following the woman's directions, Jayce turns right at the second corridor. The walls are lined with little pegs from which hang children's cardigans and jackets. Each one bears a child's name accompanied by a drawing of their own making.
The last time Jayce stood in a place like this, he could hardly reach the hanger to put away his coat, much to his classmates' cruel amusement. Now he feels oddly overgrown, the off scale of everything around him somewhat comical.
The last door on the left was left ajar, a ray of light streaming into the corridor. There is no sign on it. No number, no name. Jayce stands by the opening. Hesitates. Knocks.
"Come in."
Jayce smiles at the familiar inflection. Sunlight floods his vision as he gently pushes the door open.
Viktor is sat behind a―his desk, wearing the reading glasses they got him a few months back. His attention slowly peels away from whatever he's working on, his gaze trailing upwards. Something in him shifts as it lands on Jayce, like a layer slipping off. He blinks at him, brows drawn up from surprise, gaping ever so slightly. The corner of his mouth quirks up.
"Hey."
"Hey."
Viktor leans back against his chair, seemingly taking Jayce in, as though he can't quite believe he's standing there.
"I'm not taking any more students, I'm afraid," he teases.
"It's a shame. I hear the teacher is pretty good."
Viktor breaks into a huffed chuckle, unable to contain a quiet, pleased smile.
"Flattery," he tuts as he removes his glasses and sets them down on the desk.
It has only been a little over a month, but the space already carries undeniable hints of Viktor's presence. Hangings plants set on various shelves. Neat stacks of papers on one end of the desk. Stationary strewn across the other half. Nigh illegible reminders taking up the bottom left corner of the blackboard.
Jayce's chest pangs at the sight from bittersweet nostalgia. Other notes. Another board. Another life. However tainted, some memories only carry fondness in his heart. A night of solving equations on a half-blown board, fuelled by a heady mix coffee, wine, and stubborn, unshakable idealism strong among them.
He can feel it in his fingertips, the itch to pick up a piece of chalk and just write. To feel the familiar friction against the slate. To let his mind unfold.
His fingers flex around the crisp paper bag. Oh, right.
"Forgot this on the counter," he tells Viktor, holding up the bag.
Brows furrowed in confusion, Viktor's gaze travels from him to a table behind his desk, where he presumably usually keeps his lunch.
"So it seems."
"You didn't notice?"
Viktor shrugs. That, also, is achingly familiar. Old habits die hard, even half-way across Runeterra. Jayce sets his lunch on the desk, sneaking a kiss on his temple as he leans over.
"Snuck out of the forge to bring me lunch?" Viktor asks, fishing a sandwich and a chocolate bun out of the bag.
"I'm on my lunch break, actually."
Viktor shoots an appraising look at him, an impish spark in his eyes.
"Mmh. With no lunch of your own. A bit hypocritical, don't you think?"
Jayce scoffs at that, but can't help his amused smile.
"I'll figure something out."
"Nonsense," Viktor waves off. "We'll share."
He points at a spare chair―the only one in the room Jayce could fit on, anyway―at the corner of the classroom, and scoots his own chair over, so they both sit comfortably behind the desk.
Jayce sits with a relieved grunt, his bad leg begging for a break. Between his morning at the forge and the walk over here, there hasn't been much opportunity for one. No standing for long periods of time, the doctor said. Unfortunately, moderation has never been Jayce's strong suit. Old habits, and all that.
He idly massages his knee as he observes the spread of food on the desk.
"What's in this?" he nods at the sandwich, which gives off a distinct sour smell now that it's out of the bag.
"Smoked herring and pickles."
Jayce wrinkles his nose. Viktor snorts quietly and slides the chocolate bun across the desk towards him.
"You're missing out," Viktor says, taking a generous bite of his unpalatable creation.
"Oh, I'm sure."
The bun is blessedly unaffected by its brown bag neighbor, and as delicious as it should be.
They eat in companionable silence, the muffled sounds of playing children in the background. Jayce takes a proper look at the classroom. The walls have been decorated with various posters and students' creations. There is a large set of shelves at the back for beakers, flasks and test tubes, high enough that kids can't reach for them on their own. The windows open to the edge of nearby woods, where foliage dances lazily to the breeze. He doesn't remember any of his classrooms ever having so much character.
His gaze unavoidably falls on the rows of assorted tiny desks and chairs.
"I can't believe I was ever that small," he muses, still chewing on his bun.
"I can't believe you were ever small, period," Viktor retorts with a smile.
"You'd be surprised. Talises are late bloomers."
"Mmh. And what bloom would that be? Gigantus Pectoralae?"
"More akin to the 'Genius Cognitus' genus, I reckon."
"Oh, of course. From the 'Humblus' family."
Jayce gives his shoulder a playful nudge, laughter quickly covering the noises from outside.
With lunch out of the way, he stands to explore further. There is so much to see, somehow. Parts of the walls have been dedicated to specific themes. Biology with botanical illustrations, cross-sections of flowers and fruits decorating one part of the classroom. Chemistry with assorted symbols, some of them clearly drawn by the kids themselves. Physics with a rainbow and a prism hanging from a shelf which, Jayce guesses, must be hit by sunlight at some point during the day as to display and demonstrate the range of spectral colors.
"Did you do all of this yourself?"
"Most of those were in boxes back in storage. I guess I just... put it together."
"V, it's incredible!"
Jayce looks over his shoulder. His compliment is met with a mild shrug, but the faint blush on Viktor's cheeks doesn't go unnoticed.
One portion of a wall has been left blank by the door.
"What is this one going to be?"
"Mathematics. Geometry."
Viktor's cane taps gently against the floor as he joins Jayce by the empty stretch of wall, standing next to him.
"They didn't have a poster of the golden ratio," he says. "So I thought I'd make it myself, but I haven't had the time yet. When winter comes, I'll have the kids make paper snowflakes to study symmetry, too."
"You're really good at this."
Jayce sneaks a fond glance at him, a warm sensation kindling inside him. Pride. Not the selfish, self-centered kind. It's the kind that roars for others, from the sheer joy of being a witness to someone else's achievements. The past year hasn't exactly been soft on them. Lots of mending. Lots of pieces to scrape together back into who they are, and who they can't ever be anymore. Scars etched in the flesh and deeper still. So for them to stand there, clothed, fed, together and fulfilled... Jayce couldn't ask for more.
"Ever thought of doing that yourself?" Viktor asks softly. "Teaching?"
"Not really. I figured I'd never have the patience."
All throughout his studies, Jayce had always been single-mindedly reaching for the next thing. For crystals. For man-made magic. For Hextech. Never satisfied, always ploughing ahead. While teaching requires hindsight and critical distance, he kept throwing himself in the other direction. Not exactly ideal.
"Teaching kids... It's nothing like teaching adults," Viktor says, almost pensive. "There is something immediately rewarding to it, the way they react to knowledge when learning is still a source of joy."
"You've taught adults before?" Jayce furrows, confused.
"At the Academy. Subbed in for Heimerdinger for some of his classes."
"What was that like?"
Viktor half-chuckles half-sighs.
"Frustrating, mostly. Grown adults have a way of acting more childish than the average six-year-old, I'll tell you that."
"Was... I there?"
Viktor looks at him, both tender and playful.
"I would have noticed a fine specimen of Genius Cognitus among weeds, Jayce."
I would have noticed you too, Jayce means to say, but a shift in Viktor's expression catches him off guard before the words can take form.
"What?"
"Nothing, it's just... You've got a―Here."
He wipes the corner of Jayce's mouth with his thumb in one smooth motion.
"Chocolate," he explains, leaning away before Jayce can even form another coherent thought.
"Oh."
He stands there for a second, dumbfounded. Only a second, though. As soon as his brain rewires, his arms are around Viktor's waist, another sort of warmth creeping up his chest.
"Sure you got it all?" he leans in, pretending to show Viktor his mouth.
Viktor's smile could eclipse stars.
"Mmh. One can never be too careful."
This time, when Viktor reaches for Jayce's face, it's to cup his jaw. To pull him close. Smoked herring and pickles isn't that bad, Jayce finds out. Anything tastes like heaven on Viktor's lips, anyway. He can't get enough. Won't get enough. Ever. If nothing else, he knows that to be true. And he would gladly stay like this, sustained by tender brushes and gentle nips, were it not for the hammering of feet growing closer and closer.
"Viktor!"
"Viktor!"
"Viktooooooor!"
They come apart as a gaggle of children barges into the classroom, winded and red-faced. They immediately freeze upon noticing the presence of a second, strange adult in the room.
"Who's that?" one of the kids blurts out eventually, sparking a firework of reactions from the rest of the group:
"It's Viktor's husband!"
"What?!"
"Viktor's married?"
"They don't have rings, dumb dumb!"
"You're married, Viktor?"
"He's the blacksmith! He fixed mom's wheelchair!"
"What is he doing here?"
"Fixing things!"
"They were making kisses!"
"Ew!"
"Shut up" one of the kids shouts, efficiently getting everyone to quiet down. She turns to Viktor, her face going from annoyance to excitement at warp speed. Her hand is covering her arm like she's hiding something, or, rather, covering something there. "I found a weird bug Viktor!"
Jayce and Viktor share a glance. Jayce can see his mouth twitch, as though he's fighting a fit of laughter, his lips still delicately swollen.
"It's not a bug! It's just a weird branch," another kid rolls his eyes, his arms crossed.
"It moved, Mathy! It's a bug!"
"Now, now," Viktor cuts through their bickering. He gives Jayce another amused look before he lowers himself on the nearest desk, hands tight on his cane until he's sat. "How about we take a look at that bug, eh? Raneem?"
The melody of his voice is new to Jayce's ears, in a way that is nothing short of fascinating. A teacher's voice, imbued with patience and kindness. Not that different from his usual tone just... deliberate.
The kids gather around Viktor, suddenly focused and eager. Jayce watches intently. He's quite sure the children have forgotten he's even there.
Slowly, the girl, Raneem, uncovers her arm, revealing a twig-like creature clinging to her skin. The group erupts in gasps.
"You got yourself a stick bug," Viktor smiles.
"See? Told you it was a stick!"
"It's not a stick," he corrects patiently. "It's an insect. They come in many colors, but yours happens to mimic wood. That's how they trick predators, they blend in. Become invisible."
Raneem sticks out her tongue to Mathy, for good measure.
"Can we keep it?" another boy suggests, pointing at an empty terrarium near the beaker shelves.
"Oh yes, Viktor! Can we?"
"It's not meant to live in a cage. Nothing is. It belongs outside."
"I found it in a bush," Raneem says, her face serious.
"Then maybe we can put it back, while we talk about stick bugs a little more?"
The group immediately and enthusiastically gets on board with that plan, some kids already running out of the classroom. Most of them have streamed out by the time Viktor stands up, pushing against his cane.
"Sorry," he gives Jayce an apologetic smile.
"Learning waits for no one. I should get going, anyway."
He reaches for Viktor, stroking the back of his arm down to his elbow.
"You're not going to kiss again are you?"
They freeze, heads turning as one to find Raneem still standing there, her brows furrowed at a displeased angle.
"I'll be right with you, Raneem."
"Mmh. Kissing," she wrinkles her nose, covering the bug as she carefully walks out the classroom.
"Thank you for lunch, Jayce," Viktor says once they're definitely alone, and the look in his eyes has Jayce wishing lunchtime was five hours longer.
"Of course. Can't have you impart wisdom on an empty stomach, can I?"
"See you tonight."
"Tonight."
Jayce isn't sure kisses on the cheek count in Raneem's book, but he makes himself guilty of that nonetheless. By the time he leaves, walking down the trail that leads back to the heart of town, Viktor has joined the kids outside, his hair swaying in the light breeze.
Jayce smiles to himself all the way back to the forge. If his mind is full of golden-eyed children with tousled dark hair and a couple moles, who's to say anything about it?