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The first months are focused solely on surviving. They find shelter, they find food, when they're able to face other humans, they find work. At night they hold each other close and say nothing. Sometimes they fuck and that feels like survival too.
Jayce isn't sure either of them even care to survive, but he does want Viktor to survive and that's enough to keep him going. Viktor is more often than not silent for long stretches of time. That's fine, because he's eating and working and sleeping and fucking. Those are the essential tasks of their lives now.
Six months in, Jayce wakes in the midst of a storm to an empty bed. Panic sets in when Viktor is nowhere in their small, run down cottage. The door is wide open and rain blasts in off their porch.
Panic courses through Jayce as he rushes onto the porch. Viktor stands, facing out onto the darkness of the storm. The rain blasts his face, cold and insistent. He allows Jayce to navigate him back inside, to one of their two unbroken chairs. There is no fire and their only blanket is the one on the bed.
“What in the hells were you doing out there?” Jayce asks. This is a new shape to Viktor's melancholy.
“I've ruined everything, Jayce,” Viktor speaks as Jayce swipes a drenched lock of hair out of his space.
“What are you talking about?” Jayce asks. “Back in-” The word catches in this throat. They don't discuss their guilt, deserved or not. They've danced around it successfully for half a year.
“No.” Viktor shakes his head, his tone calm, despite everything. Jayce only realizes then that his partner is crying. “Here. I've ruined everything, what little we have here.”
“I have no clue what you're talking about, V.” Jayce sinks to his knees in front of him. God, his left leg aches.
They had a good day before this. It was a Saturday and they worked together on some floorboards in the cottage in the afternoon. Jayce made them a simple dinner that they ate on the porch steps and Viktor suggested they go to bed early. Mundane, yes, but a good day nonetheless.
“I didn't think I could but-” Viktor shakes his head, trying to vanquish something. “I'm sorry, Jayce. This was not my intention.”
“You're scaring me.” He takes one of Viktor's hands in his, rubbing a soothing thumb on the back. “You didn't ruin anything. You'd have to do a lot to ruin our life together.”
Their life so far held no labels, no pretense. Jayce hadn't even gathered the bravery to say how he feels, but he'll get there. That's the beauty of it, the fact that the two of them have this time together, alone with each other.
Viktor hangs his head, a small trickle of tears landing on their hands. Jayce realizes that Viktor doesn't wipe his tears away then. Before he can ask, though, he notices the protective curl of Viktor's other hand against his lower stomach.
Some time later
Jayce has been repeating the one syllable so much his jaw has started to hurt. He’s nothing if not determined, despite the fact that the child in front of him seems more interested in her stuffed bunny at the moment. Despite humbling himself to sit on the floor, she refuses to meet him at his level.
“Pa-pa,” Jayce speaks as though it’s solemn business, as though he’s reciting one of his lessons back at the academy. Those days are far, far behind him. “Reenie, can you say papa?”
The aforementioned Reenie, legal name Irena, has shown great developmental progress in the past few weeks and yesterday managed a singular “tata”- quite the feat. Jayce is immensely proud of her, but he’s always been a rather jealous man, and he’s hoping his due comes soon. Children don’t care about benchmarks or that they have spurned one parent in favor of the other, at least not when they’re a long way from being able to even hold a sentence or run across the room.
The source of Jayce’s jealousy, one tata, makes his appearance then, the delicate click click of his cane preceding him. The familiar sound is enough to make his daughter’s face light up and she starts to babble something that always feels on the verge of coherence. Viktor is balancing two cups of tea with his free hand.
“I don’t even think she can repeat what she said last night, Jayce,” Viktor says, depositing one of the mugs on the small table next to Jayce. “It was surely an accident.”
Jayce eyes him for a moment, always a moment too long and yet not long enough, as he sips his tea. Viktor always pretends it’s not still too hot, that he doesn’t burn his tongue on that first saccharine sip of his black tea with at least three heaping cups of sugar.
“She said it with intention, though,” Jayce defends his concern, his jealousy twisting in his gut. Of course Viktor deserves to be first, but he would like to be a close second. Honestly, it’s a testament to his love that he’s able to concede this much ground in the matter at all.
Viktor deposits himself in his arm chair, his tea joining Jayce’s on the small table. They’ve managed over the past almost two years to amass enough furniture for a real home. Most of it was damaged pieces from neighbors, brought to their home in a borrowed cart and fixed up in their makeshift studio. Jayce attempted to make a few things and Viktor succeeded at making a few more. It’s better than the early days when they chose between the kitchen table or the bed.
Then again, they seemed to want to spend more time in bed then, or have the luxury to do so.
Irena scoots herself over to Viktor then, using some straps of his brace to anchor herself to stand. She really should be told not to do this, but she does it to both of them and neither seems to have the heart for reprimanding. If they have another they can-
But no, that’s not likely. Jayce looks over at Viktor, the way he’s supporting their daughter as she more or less bounces, a facsimile of dancing. Viktor smiles at her, warm and unbidden. He loves Viktor to the point of distraction, always has even when he didn’t know the name for the love he held for him. Viktor doesn’t seem particularly interested in their life resuming the romantic undertones that held it together those first few months, or the months after when he carried Irena and needed the support and comfort of a partner.
Jayce has tried to be a good man, tried to be understanding of the choices being made. All he knew is that it hurt. It was impossible to voice that hurt, both for the selfishness of it and the depth. He couldn’t simply approach Viktor and say “hey, I thought when a rune spit us out here together, we could build something together. I thought we were lovers, I thought everything was worth it because I could have that with you. I thought you loved me.”
Viktor looks down at him then, catching his eye as if by accident. The smile on his face shifts, not quite a frown, but something more serious.
“Are you alright, Jayce?” Viktor asks. “You can go rest if you need to, I was going to read to Irena and put her down for a nap.”
“I-” Jayce opens his mouth to speak then closes it. He can’t allow himself to say something foolish.
Jayce is surprised when he feels the bed dip beside him. He was half asleep enough that he didn’t realize anyone else was in the bedroom besides him. Laying still, he allows Viktor to adjust himself comfortably, to settle into the mattress. There’s a moment of hesitation, a hand skirting at his waist before Viktor retreats.
“What if we had another child?” Viktor asks, his voice low enough that Jayce isn’t sure he expects an answer.
“Another-” Jayce all but shoots up. His first instinct is that Viktor is announcing something again, at least less terrifying than the first, but then he remembers that it’s unlikely. They fuck rarely and usually with protection. Usually at night, under the covers.
“I didn’t realize you were awake.” Viktor shrinks back on himself. “I didn’t mean anything by saying that, it was just idea.”
“Do you want another child?” Jayce asks. He doesn’t turn to face him, he doesn’t dare.
“Not particularly,” Viktor admits, and Jayce can all but feel him retreat further into himself.
“Alright, I’ll bite. So why do you want to know?”
“Forget it, Jayce. It was a passing thought.”
That passing thought haunts Jayce for days afterwards.
Some nights, Jayce dreams about his life in Piltover. Many of these dreams are actually nightmares. On those nights he wakes in a cold sweat and leaves the room to pace across the kitchen. Part of the reason he was so insistent on changing the floors was his fear that he'd wear down the wood.
“Jayce,” that familiar voice calls from the doorway, saying his name as sweet as any term of endearment.
“Viktor, I'm fine.”
It's been some time since either of them have taken a statement such as “I'm fine” at face value. There are too many wounds to reckon with.
“What was it tonight?” Viktor asks as he steps closer.
“The one about hurting you,” Jayce admits. Hurting is not the most correct word, nor is it specific, but clarity feels unbearably painful in that moment.
“I'm right here, aren't I?”
Sometimes he still doubts it, when Viktor appears suddenly or exactly when he's thinking about him. Sometimes he's at the bottom of that ravine wishing for salvation/death/food/sleep/embrace. The Viktor before him today goes for the final option, resting his cane against a chair before folding his arms around Jayce's middle.
He's real, he's real and he's in Jayce's arms. This Viktor has filled out, has been given the privilege to heal, but he's still so small. Viktor will always remain bird boned, a creature that Jayce fears will one day become a flight risk.
“Better?” Viktor asks, a bony chin jutting against Jayce's shoulder.
Jayce presses his face into Viktor's neck, inhaling deeply. He smells of sleep and rosemary, the remnants of the shampoo that felt like a luxury so many months ago. When he kisses the soft skin in front of him, Viktor makes a familiar sound halfway between surprise and pleasure.
That night, Jayce takes him apart on the kitchen floor and they both sleep soundly for a few hours afterwards.
“Why did you decide to keep it?” Jayce asks. They're sitting on their porch, Viktor's head in his lap.
The question is not personal, it's scientific. Or maybe it's both, but Viktor doesn't take offense.
“In the Undercity, we learn quickly that it's selfish to want a child, selfish to have one,” Viktor answers instead.
“Do you think it's a selfish choice?” Jayce brushes a finger against Viktor's cheek. He doesn't know where he stands, which is absurd. It's Viktor's baby, yes, but it's his too. “To have this child?”
“Yes.” Viktor looks up at him then. “And I think it's the last selfish thing I will do, as well as the one that brings the most good.”
Jayce has thoughts on what he's said, but he's afraid of the consequences of his words so for once he decides on silence. If nothing else, he's gotten better at silence from all of this. The difference now is that the rooms he occupies don't feel empty without his voice ringing through them; he can just be.
Viktor is sick for several weeks after Irena is born. Jayce hates him for this selfish act then, wants to pretend the child doesn't exist. The selfless thing is to love the child, even when Viktor hangs on a Gods awful precipice. The doctor, used to rural and outdated care, insists that if- when, when is the only option- Viktor heals, they will have to cut out any future children for his health. Jayce tries to kick the man out, but Viktor insists he stays. Insists it's helpful information.
Jayce thinks he would rather never have Viktor again than risk a single hair on his head. When he attempts to voice this to Viktor afterwards, his partner only gives him a wry smile. It looks out of place with the yellow pallor of his skin and shivering hands.
“What's dying one more time, Jayce?”
This makes Jayce so angry he doesn't talk to Viktor for the rest of the day.
Before he even buys most of the furniture, Jayce buys the ring. It catches his eye, despite being plain, but it's a well crafted silver band embossed with stars. He hopes to propose and then falters, afraid it'll be perceived as an offer contingent on sharing a child.
When Reena is approaching her first birthday, Jayce attempts to build furniture again. He remembers as a child that he and his mother would sit in a metal swing in his family's small garden. As a small, chubby child he would prattle for what felt like hours sitting beside his mother. He's sure his father would join sometimes, or so his mother said. Jayce didn't remember his father much.
Irena watches from a safe distance as Jayce works in the yard. Or she alternates between that and plucking flowers in small fistful where she sits. Viktor has been using his engineering genius to craft a crown that can withstand the chaos of a near toddler. He refuses to be defeated by the power and ingenuity of simply not caring, of taking the world as it is handed to you.
They both were, from what Jayce gathers, children that didn't understand other children. Now they're taxed with interpreting the world to a small child creature that's starting to form questions. Gods help her when they send her on to school and she has to explain her fathers.
Jayce, bored of his task, joins them on their small blanket in the grass. He's pleased when Irena scoots to him, makes herself comfortable in his lap. She's got dirt under her nails from her hard work.
“We should think about getting her a haircut,” Viktor comments, brushing some hair out of her forehead. They trim each other's hair and it's a passable job. Usually. Viktor's is pulled half back today, a style that Viktor insists is for practicality and Jayce insists is enticing.
“I can do it,” Jayce offers.
“Without crying?”
“I welcome the tears if it means she's growing up.” Jayce kisses the crown of her head. “Do you think you can do it without crying?”
“Hardly, but I didn't offer.”
“Next time we go into town, then. We can both cry safely away from the scissors.”
Viktor frowns. “We can let it grow longer.”
That's how it goes with these things, Viktor barely likes the doctor touching his child. This is a whole other stranger and it's not necessary. And it involves a trip into town; at least with the doctor, he can do house visits.
“V, sweetheart-”
“If you are going to condescend to me, we can stop the conversation now.”
It's not like either of them are great with crowds or strangers or people generally. But Jayce has, within him, the desire to be around humanity. He has that ego that can never fully be buried, as much as he's tried. Viktor never longed for it to begin with and creating a community, surrounding himself with people, only brought ruin.
“I am not condescending you. I just think that at some point you have to accept that she will want to be out in the world.”
The she in question starts gnawing on her dirty hand, giving Viktor a perfect chance to escape the conversation.
When Irena is very small, Jayce has perhaps too much unfounded confidence in their ability to parent successfully. After all, they’ve already been the fathers of Hextech, and developing and delivering a whole new technology cannot possibly be more difficult to manage than a baby that weighs less than ten pounds. He’s proven horrifically wrong within the first week.
The baby cries and cries for the first month. At first, Jayce thinks that when Viktor recovers enough to hold her regularly or to help with the care, she’ll be better. Of course the baby would prefer Viktor to him, that’s the most natural thing in the world. However, colicky babies don’t always follow adult logic. Or ever, really, as Jayce quickly learns about his daughter.
“She’s so loud sometimes,” Viktor admits, his voice small, as they both stand over her crib. She’s sleeping, peacefully for once. “How can something so small make so much noise?”
“I suppose when all you can do to express your feelings is cry, you just do that as loudly as you can, right?”
“I wish I had the answers on how to help her, I wish I could make all of her frustrations go away.”
Jayce wraps an arm around Viktor’s waist, steady and firm. They haven’t found their footing yet on how they’re supposed to act now. Viktor’s body is still healing and it’s likely the birth will keep him weaker for a few months still.
“I wish my mama was here,” Jayce says barely a whisper. It would be a help and a comfort, and something to ease Viktor’s burden.
The shorter man stiffens beside him but doesn’t say anything, only continues to watch his daughter in this rare moment of afternoon peace.
Their daughter’s first steps are towards Jayce as he stands in the kitchen. He’s washing the dishes while Viktor sits and peels some potatoes for their dinner. They both miss the moment she decides to be brave, thinking she’s safely playing with some soft toys on the kitchen floor. One moment she’s giggling with a pink bunny in hand, the next she’s on uneasy feet and fumbling her way directly into her papa’s legs.
Gentle and tiny hands tug at his brace when at the destination and Gods, they really do need to discourage this habit, but it’s so hard when it’s so cute. Jayce is so happy he could cry. She loves him enough that she risked maybe the bravest thing of her life to be with him.
“V, look,” Jayce says, not trying to draw enough attention to make her stop.
“Did she wander there herself?” Viktor asks, and Jayce catches the awestruck expression on his face. Jayce has seen this loo before many times, but never over something that, scientifically speaking, would be considered so mundane. Jayce wants to take his face in both hands and kiss him soundly.
Instead, he opts to lift the girl alight, until she giggles with the joy that fills their small cottage so often now.
“Oh look, we have a big girl now!” Jayce crows, proud beyond reason. “Soon you will be running races around the house and helping with all of the housework.”
Irena smiles at him, not fully understanding what he’s saying, but surely able to tell that he’s very happy. And because of her, which is the greatest achievement of all for a child of one. She then turns, practicing her favorite word of the three she’s learned so far.
“Tata!”
Jayce’s smile turns to something slightly more bittersweet. He delivers her to the arms of the tata in question. Viktor has cast aside the knife from peeling potatoes, far out of the reach of eager little hands, and extends his arms for his daughter. He easily drops a kiss to the top of her head, sweeping some of the hair he refuses to have cut out of her eyes.
Jayce takes her in for a moment, in the intentional way where he tries to remember every shift and change of his daughter as she grows. Apparently, she looks more like him and Jayce will concede that she has his complexion, his open expression. But he sees most often, the little tells that remind him that he made this child with Viktor: the curl to her hair, the moles that dot her body, the way she narrows her eyes when examining something of interest, the slight curve of her nose.
It’s not her he has the urge to dote on in those moments, though, but Viktor. There’s a risk to it, Viktor hates being fussed over, or at least still feels he has to pretend he hates it. The affection has also been a nebulous thing in this past year, as though they stand on some sort of uncertain terms now. The logic is not sound, having a child should make it more clear where they stand, but it’s only muddled everything. Jayce thinks of the ring and how he’s had to keep it hidden as their lives entwine, how he knows exactly what he wants and after everything he’s too afraid to ask. Being rejected by a lover is one thing, being rejected by someone who you share a family with is a whole other issue.
Jayce knows, though, that he wouldn’t really survive a fissure like that regardless. The last thing he wants to do is make it Viktor’s problem. So he drops the thoughts of fussing over Viktor, of kissing the top of his head and then his mouth, and instead returns to the task at hand.
Viktor is standing in front of the mirror. It’s a full length feature that Jayce brought home from the market. The glass itself is old but the frame is a thing of beauty. Either way, he got a good deal on it and it’s come in handy for dressing in the near dark while the baby still slept.
Jayce has said his name three times to no response. Viktor must be intent on something, maybe working out some problem in his mind. The fourth time Viktor tilts his head in his direction.
“Do you need something, Jayce?” Viktor asks.
“You seemed a little lost in thought there.”
“I was thinking of the ways I’ve changed. I was much more, eh, appealing before the child.” It’s delivered as a statement. Viktor is not asking for Jayce to refute him, he likely assumes that Jayce would not bother. Because to Viktor, that’s the truth.
Meanwhile, Jayce is trying to keep his jaw from dropping at such an audacious assertation. There is no “before” or “after” of Viktor being appealing, of being desirable or lovable, he simply is. He’s different, yes, the same way he was different when they arrived here than he was before, or different after seven years of partnership. If Viktor is well, that is all that matters to Jayce. The appeal and desire is inherent to Viktor and to how Jayce feels about him.
“That’s not true,” is all Jayce says instead, because he’s afraid that when he says what he really thinks the words are going to pour out with reckless abandon.
“Then tell me what I need to do, Jayce.” Viktor turns to him, a sort of wildness in his eyes. “I’ve lost you and I don’t know what to do.”
Something inside of Jayce breaks, cleft clean in two. He cannot find the words that he knows he needs, he knows it must be simple but the dam is cracking and he's torn between repairing it and letting the water overflow.
“You don't need to do anything,” Jayce answers instead.
“Understood.” Viktor goes silent and then turns. “I think it's best if I sleep in the main room tonight, until I can arrange something more permanent.”
“What the hells are you talking about?”
“I am tired of pretending, Jayce.” Jayce watches Viktor's shoulders slump. “I am very happy with our child, but everything else- it's a half life at best, is it not? Occasionally you remember that I am something you can touch, but it's not enough.”
“Occasionally?” Jayce repeats. “Viktor, I spend far too much time trying to control myself from touching you.”
“And how am I to know that?”
Something clicks in Jayce's head and he's scrambling to his feet from the bed. He needs to touch now, because if he doesn't, it'll be too late. He wraps Viktor in his arms, so wholly that his point cannot be ignored.
“You asked me about having another child because that's- you thought that's why I was with you. It's not. Viktor, I'm with you because I love you.”
“Yes, yes.” Viktor pats his back, perhaps encouraging him to loosen his grip. “I love you too, Jayce, but-”
“No. I love you.” Jayce pulls away. Viktor looks confused, his brows knit together in an adorable furrows.
“I know that.”
“You don't. Viktor, I'm in love with you. That kind of love.”
“Oh.” Viktor's face crumples with something that looks like relief.
“I should have told you- fuck- so very long ago. You- we had a kid together and I didn't tell you. But I was so afraid of losing the only thing I had.”
“You can't lose me, Jayce.”
“I have before.” Jayce presses a kiss to his forehead. “I can't again.”
“I don't think I deserve this.” For a moment Jayce thinks Viktor will pull away, but he doesn't. “I should be punished, not given everything I have always wanted.”
“Is that why you've kept me at arm's length, to punish yourself?”
“At first yes, and then it was because I thought you couldn't reciprocate and if we kept whatever affection we had transactional, I thought it could last just a while longer.”
“And if we had another child-”
“The affection would last longer.”
“The first nearly killed you. We could-” Jayce swallows hard. “We could talk about it if you wanted one truly, but I am not having you risk your life to keep something that I want to give you freely.”
Viktor leans up to press a kiss to the corner of Jayce's mouth. Jayce feels bold enough to know that this deserves to be a proper kiss, so he takes control.
Hours later, Jayce has finally started to doze off after talking about their future. Okay, the talks were punctuated with other, more physical priorities. But they had been talking too.
“Jayce?” Viktor queries, barely above a whisper. When said like this, Jayce loves how Viktor uses his name as if it's a term of endearment.
“Hm?”
“I forgot to say that I'm in love with you too.”
Jayce smiles to himself before he responds. “I know. Thank you.”
Viktor's pregnancy made Viktor treat himself like a human again. He still went moody or silent at times, but Jayce didn't have to remind him to eat dinner or rest. His body demanded those things.
Afterwards, Viktor was recovering and then feeding the baby. Which is to say, he gained some weight and kept it on. Jayce admires this softer version of him, which makes the night before even more absurd. Viktor now lays sprawled mostly naked in their bed. Jayce doesn't have it in him to wake him, even as the morning ticks by.
Instead, he wakes Irena in the nursery, and brings her to her chair while he cooks breakfast. She's content with the baked apples and yogurt she's given, but he wants to bring Viktor breakfast in bed.
Viktor is just waking when he steps back into the room, balancing a plate in one hand and their daughter in the other.
“What's this? Breakfast in bed?” Viktor rubs his eyes.
“Yes, but I need you to watch my little assistant while I grab the rest.” He deposits the food first on his side of the bed and waits for Viktor to extend his arms for the squirming child.
“Did papa wake you up to cook with him?” Viktor asks, smiling at her. She has a small clip pulling the hair out of her eyes.
Jayce returns quickly with coffee and a plate for himself, stacked with the slightly burnt griddle cakes. Viktor's are already doused in sickeningly sweet syrup, and he's feeding a forkful to Reenie.
“I did feed her already,” Jayce comments.
“I don't mind sharing if it's with her.” Nonetheless, he passes her a slice of melon, ideally to occupy her for more than a few moments so he can eat. “What's the occasion? Did I forget a special day?”
“Can't I woo you?” Jayce asks. “I would- I want to talk about marriage, but more than that, I would like to court you first.”
“Jayce, I am not the sort of man one “courts.” Besides, we've already had a child together, I think that time is long past.”
“Has no one ever-”
“No,” Viktor answers plainly. “You are the only man I've ever been with.”
Jayce's fork clatters to his plate mid-bite.
“Romantically or-”
“Both.”
“I'm uh- that's-” Jayce searches for words before he looks at Viktor's face. His expression is playful, cheeky, like he's on the verge of laughter. “You're joking.”
“Not that there would be anything wrong if you were, but there were others before you.”
Admittedly, part of him doesn't particularly like that idea either. He doubts anyone else is capable of appreciating Viktor the way he should be.
Viktor's nightmares are a whole other beast to contend with at times. He has them less often than Jayce, which is a blessing, but will wake up screaming. This not only mortifies Viktor, but brings chaos to the whole household.
He has one about two weeks after Jayce declares his intentions, waking Jayce from a dead sleep. Jayce is quick now to fetch the soothing tea and to rub Viktor's back in a way that is comforting but not suffocating but it took time.
“Did I wake the baby?” Viktor asks, curling his hands around the mug.
“You didn't,” Jayce lies.
Irena was scared, but tired enough to soothe easily. A lullaby put her back to sleep, so nothing else was needed. Viktor didn't need to feel guilty over something so small, something Jayce can fix.
“I can feel them, in my dreams. All those souls,” Viktor explains. “The pain, the fear, the sickness. And then it severs all at once.”
“That must be terrifying.”
Now that Viktor has his tea, the gentle back rubs can start. Tonight Viktor leans into the touch. He's doing more of that generally as of late.
“Much as I want to forget, I believe it's important that I remember. I am the keeper of those memories, of those existences.”
“That's far too much for one man to carry, sweetheart.”
“I can’t share it with anyone and I can’t let it go away.”
Jayce contemplates for a moment, pushes down the instinct to offer to share the load. He can’t, both in the literal sense and because he cannot take on this mental load. This is Viktor’s to carry, or not carry, as he sees fit. All Jayce can do is be there.
“Then I’ll help carry you, when you need the help,” Jayce says, resuming his gentle rubbing.
Viktor snorts in reply. “Thank you, Jayce. That’s, eh, very sweet.”
“But?”
“Also a bit mushy.”
“Oh, I’m a mushy guy, you know this by now.”
Jayce, unable to help himself in that moment, changes tactics. He covers Viktor’s face in kisses, trailing down his neck and rubbing his beard on soft skin. The laughter this earns is one of the most beautiful things Jayce has ever heard, and he’s going to do his best to earn it every day for the rest of his life.
Jayce remembers the exact moment he realized he loves the baby. It's week three of Viktor laid in bed after childbirth, the gaunt appearance of his partner hauntingly familiar. The doctor insists that he's recovering, but Jayce doesn't think he'll be certain of that until he's moving regularly again.
They have a nurse stop by once a day to give Jayce a small reprieve from the double duty of caring for Viktor and the little girl with no name. It's not enough, he's exhausted with feedings and changing diapers and helping Viktor out of bed to wash or relieve himself. He wouldn't dream of hurting the squeamish creature in his arms, but he's just going through the motions.
She spent half an hour crying loud enough to echo through the cottage, denying food and sleep and everything in-between. The nurse left about an hour prior, certain a long nap was ahead. Jayce feels like a livewire ready to ignite any moment, to become an explosion of a man to avoid the noise.
“Jayce?” Viktor calls from the living room, where he's sat up. The doctor insists he makes the walk to the couch at least once a day.
“I'm sorry V, I-” I can't do this, he wants to say. “Dinner will be here in just a moment.”
“Bring her here,” Viktor commands. He asks for so little and Jayce will deny none of it.
“She's screaming her head off, you don't want-”
“She is my daughter, is she not?” Viktor asks. “Bring her to me.”
Jayce obeys the gentle order, relinquishing the child a bit too eagerly. The hand offs are still awkward, a bit too overconcerned with keeping her head supported because it's the right thing to do.
“Do you love her?” Jayce finds himself speaking into the air, not looking at Viktor's face. Or anywhere, really, his impulse to stand respectfully winning over.
Viktor has to adjust himself and the child before he speaks. They do this rarely, to conserve his energy. The bottle and formula is fine, the doctor insists. After making a small sound of discomfort, recognition that the baby has latched, he speaks.
“I do love her,” Viktor continues. “Even if she tried to tear apart my insides and just might tear my outsides.”
Jayce looks down then, takes in the child contentedly holding onto Viktor's pointer finger.
“She just-” Jayce scrubs his hand down his face, “all she does is scream and cry and I don't know how to make her happy.”
“Eh, to her right now, happiness is this.”
“I can't give her that.”
Viktor laughs, hard enough that it makes him cough. Jayce feels himself go on high alert. This is not why Viktor is sick. He will be fine. He has to be fine.
“Sorry, little one,” Viktor says when he stops, his voice low and sweet. “Your papa is very funny, is all.”
“Papa,” Jayce repeats. The doctor or nurse will call him “dad” with an air of casualness, because that's what they call fathers. But this is different.
The creature, the baby, his daughter, squirms in Viktor's arms. Jayce is papa and will do anything to make her happy, even if he continues to fail. This is love, is it not? It feels like it is, blooming across his chest.
“What precisely are you building, Jayce?” Viktor asks, stepping carefully around the wood scattered on their living area. Jayce isn't half sure himself what he's building most of the time, but that's part of the fun.
“Something the family can enjoy together,” Jayce says in lieu of a proper answer. “All three of us.”
“A debatable amount,” Viktor says, ducking his way into the nearby kitchen.
“Vik- what?” Jayce scrambles to his feet, a task easier said than done with his leg brace. He grips the couch to pivot himself and then follows Viktor into the next room. “What do you mean debatable?”
“Well, it will likely be four but it could be five.”
“Four like right now?”
“Not immediately right now, but in eight months, approximately.”
Jayce stands stock still. His only reaction is fear, the warning the doctor gave, the gentle reminder to wait another year. Viktor takes his pill every morning, without fail. Jayce doesn't monitor it, but he's beside him often enough to know.
“Are you certain?”
“The doctor confirmed it yesterday, yes.”
“Are you keeping it?”
“I think I am, yes.” Viktor shrinks into himself as he speaks, suddenly looking smaller. “We are.”
“‘We’ constitutes a decision made together.” Jayce pauses, then reaches out for his partner. “I told you already that you don't need to do this to keep me around.”
“I know that, Jayce.”
“The doctor advised you against this very thing.”
“The doctor said I would not be able to have another child naturally, not that I would be unable.”
“Which is not a risk I want to take, Viktor.”
“I wasn't aware it was a risk you were taking at all, given that it's happening to me.”
“That's not what I mean.”
“Then what do you mean?”
“I don't want you to do this,” Jayce blurts out, before he can stop the words rolling off of his tongue.
“Understood,” is all Viktor says.
“Viktor.”
“I don't think there is anything more for you to say.” Viktor turns abruptly, heading to the nursery where Reenie is napping. It's a tactic to avoid the conversation, so they're not fighting in front of the toddler.
The silence stretches for the remainder of the day. At the very least, Viktor doesn't kick Jayce out of bed. He does, however, shuffle away from him without Jayce even attempting to move closer. It's cool enough at night that Viktor usually moves closer, not further, in these circumstances.
Jayce doesn't have the right words to fix things that night, or the next morning, but he knows he has to try. Viktor has just finished making breakfast for himself and Reenie, both of them picking thoughtfully at eggs and small bites of veggie sausage.
“Viktor, can we talk?” Jayce asks. He barely slept and, by the look of the bags under his partner's eyes, Viktor didn't get much sleep either.
“I can hardly stop you from talking.”
“I'm sorry for the way I reacted yesterday. I am afraid, alright? I have no better explanation or excuse.”
Viktor looks up at him properly, meeting his eye. “I know you are afraid, Jayce. I'm afraid too. But I would like to try this. Again.”
“I haven't even considered the possibility.”
“Neither had I,” Viktor confesses. “But I have thought this over very seriously. I'm sorry, Jayce. I realize this choice I make impacts all three of us. Just as the first time around it changed everything.”
“Did the doctor say anything about risks?”
Viktor nods. “Can we discuss this later, not in front of the child?”
Viktor lays it out as Jayce assembles the swing that afternoon. It's still risky, but Viktor is in better health overall than he was the first time around. His body has recovered well from the first delivery and while he likely cannot have a natural birth, the risks are not high enough the doctor would recommend termination on a medical basis.
When Viktor gives this information, it's clinical, detached, but punctuated by little jokes about screws as he hands over tools or parts to Jayce. What dawns on Jayce then is how at peace Viktor is with his decision. He is not crying in the rain because he's deeply upset, and he doesn't seem to think any decision he makes will send Jayce away. That quiet confidence in him, in them as a couple- as a family- means more than Jayce can say.
Jayce peers in the front window, looking where Viktor and Irena are curled up on the couch reading a book. Well, Viktor is reading to the girl, but she seems more interested in playing with the plush toy in her lap. It's some creature native to their new homeland and already squished in the way well loved plushies often are.
He knocks on the glass, earning a startled sound from Viktor.
“Yes?” Viktor queries, putting on an affronted tone.
“Come outside, I think I've got everything hung up and ready.”
Jayce steps away, giving a surveying glance at his craftsmanship. He doesn't have access to the same advanced technology that he'd have back in Piltover, so he's had to make due with that he has and what he could afford from the village. The finished result looks sturdy, though, and will last them for years to come.
They emerge on the porch then, Viktor awkwardly stopped as Irena holds his free hand. It's slow walking with a small child, a weak leg, and a cane, but Viktor always seems endlessly patient with the needs of their little girl.
“What do you think, Reenie?” Jayce leans down to lift the girl, trying not to audibly groan at the twinge in his back.
She looks thoughtful, then shakes her head. Jayce believes, endlessly, that he has the smartest daughter in Runeterra, but she only knows so many words. It must be so frustrating to be unable to communicate clearly.
“Like this.” He lowers himself to the swing, kicking his feet to set it in motion.
Irena makes a sound of surprise, then claps her hands, joyful at the movement.
“More!” she exclaims and Jayce sets the swing in gentle motion. He stops it only once, to allow Viktor his seat on the other side.
“Very nice, my love,” Viktor commends, smiling over at him.
It's a very special moment when Viktor uses a pet name other than Jayce's first name. While Jayce relishes in the sweet and low way Viktor expresses that singular syllable, something about a simple term of endearment makes him blush foolishly.
When he's more confident that Irena won't try to break free, he settles her between them. It feels like the safest place she can possibly be, nestled between two men who would die for her.
“Imagine a morning coffee out here.” Jayce pauses for a moment. “It's so peaceful.”
He's not referring specifically to the swing, he thinks. But he doesn't say that. Instead, he puts his arm on the back of the swing as though framing his entire world.
art by p0tion-alb on tumblr/promaren here
There is one thing that still hangs heavy on his mind, even with all of these changes: the ring and what it means. The intention was to engage in a proper courtship, to woo Viktor and then marry properly. However, despite all of his reminders that as long as they were both happy, nothing else mattered, a nagging voice remained. The voice reminded Jayce a lot of his mother and came with the phantom feeling of a pinched ear.
And anyway, maybe Jayce was a bit traditional and that was alright.
He agonized over the proposal for weeks. They're busy with their child or their work or any plethora of things. A proposal is a once in a lifetime moment and Jayce needs it to be perfect.
Which is precisely why he ends up doing it in the morning, with his mouth full of toothpaste.
They're both half asleep, standing in front of their small sink. The question is half mumbled around a toothbrush, but loud enough that Viktor hears.
“What did you say?” Viktor asks, having the decency to spit out his toothpaste before he speaks.
Jayce follows suit, somewhere between mortified and eager to have his answer. He has little doubt of what it will be, but it would still soothe him to hear it. He attempts to sink to one knee, but Viktor reaches for him.
“Up here is fine. I never liked the idea of someone doing this as an act of submission.”
“Will you marry me, then?” Jayce asks, the words threatening to come out all at once.
Viktor looks at him for a beat, smiling. He doesn't look like he's considering or debating, he knows the answer.
“Yes, Jayce, I will marry you.”
“Good, good, that's- can I kiss you?”
Viktor actually laughs then. Jayce has absolutely nothing to be nervous about, but he's on edge until the moment Viktor leans up and presses their mouths together. The kiss tastes far too much like the cinnamon toothpaste Viktor insists on using, but it's one of the best of Jayce's life.
They both melt into it, the type of kiss that easily sets a man off boneless and languid. Jayce wonders if they could keep at this all morning, or how long they'd go before they tired of kissing. It was more likely they'd need to break to eat or wash before then, but he'd still love to try it.
Viktor slips two deft hands in the back of Jayce's pants as if to remind him that it wasn't a matter of tiring of kissing. Oh no, there are other things the kissing can turn into.
The ring itself is, unfortunately, slightly too large. They agree to have it sized on the next venture into the village, and to pick out a ring for Jayce. Viktor insists that he only needs the one, not a separate wedding and engagement band.
“Should we file for our license while we're here?” Viktor asks, gesturing at the courthouse. He keeps a wary eye on Irena in the wagon that Jayce pulls. She's comfortably sat with two melons and a bushel of apples, their more practical gains that day.
“I suppose we could,” Jayce supplies. They have to obtain a marriage license before they get married anyway. “We could also just- go ahead and do it?”
“With the melons on hand?” Viktor's tone is playful, but Jayce notices a flash of disappointment across his features. Usually, Viktor is the more practical of the pair, but it's possible that he's always wanted a proper ceremony.
“You're right, we should wait. Maybe someone will come up to the house to do it?”
“Who would be the witness? We have…very few friends who are not toddlers.”
Viktor's hand moves to rest on his lower stomach as he contemplates for a moment. It's likely he doesn't notice he's doing this, it's just an impulse to protect what is most vulnerable about him at that moment.
The rest of the trip is pleasant enough, though something hangs in the air. Their cart ends up full of enough goods to last them at least a good two to three weeks, and they do end up obtaining their license, or at least the forms to fill out. It’s a simple thing, really, something they only need a judge or a clerk to witness, but he can tell to Viktor it feels heavy. He’s not sure, really, why, because Viktor seemed eager enough to agree to the marriage.
“You two can’t sleep on the sofa,” Viktor’s voice is gentle and carries over to Jayce with its usual comfort. Jayce and Irena had been snuggling on said couch when, apparently, they both dozed off. While his memories of his father were dim at best, Jayce does remember the man’s uncanny ability to doze off, open mouthed, sitting just about anywhere. Was he turning into him?
“Can’t or shouldn’t?” Jayce offers, rubbing his mouth as if to check for drool. No, that’s exactly what he was doing.
He unfurls himself from the sofa, doing his best not to wake the sleeping toddler. He’s been a father long enough to know how these things go, if he wakes her it’s going to somehow be beyond difficult to get her back to sleep. Somehow, she’d reach a level of energy never reached by a child before and she’d use every ounce of it to make his life more difficult. That was her right.
“You’ll complain in the morning of how much everything hurts,” Viktor comments, as Jayce leans to lift the girl. The twinge in his back is already there.
“Remember when we used to fall asleep in the lab? I think I’ve spent dozens of nights entirely upright and not a pain in sight.”
“Eh, speak for yourself, on the pain.” As Jayce begins to walk, Viktor passes behind him, almost herding him to their bedroom. “It doesn’t hurt worse now, it just hurts different. Preventable aches, not the aches of my body betraying me.”
Jayce knows this, he knows this intimately. He knew the technicalities of Viktor’s body long before he truly knew Viktor’s body. When they’re old and grey and addled with things to forget, Jayce will be able to recall the history of Viktor’s ailments like it’s an honor to keep these close. Like it’s his life’s privilege and mission to care for this man.
“You should go to bed,” Jayce comments as they both stop in the doorway of Irena’s room. “You’ve been very tired lately, right? I’ll be there in a moment.” He leans down just enough to press a kiss to Viktor’s forehead.
“I like to watch you put her to sleep.”
“And I like to get into bed behind you and finish warming you up.”
He kisses Viktor again, this time a proper kiss on the lips, a promise of a gesture. Something familiar, true, but something that carries weight.
“Is that a promise, Jayce?”
“And you know I keep my promises to you.”
The first time they slept together, in the cottage when it was little more than a ruin, on the bed that was little more than a mattress, Jayce remembers his whole body feeling as though it was floating. They don’t speak much, they didn’t really in those days. Viktor sometimes would go half a day or longer without saying anything of consequence; Jayce has a little bit less self control and a lot more he feels has to come out in his words.
One of them cries, Jayce isn’t really sure which. It’s probably both, they cry together. It’s been less than a week since the rune spit them out here, less than a week of putting together what meager resources they’ve had. In many ways, Jayce is surprised they lasted this long. But really, he can’t believe it’s happening, sharing this intimacy, learning Viktor’s body first hand.
In the morning light, Jayce is welcomed to the sight of a pale expanse of dappled skin, Viktor’s back marked by its archipelago of freckles: islands he wants to visit one by one over the course of his life. Repeatedly.
“I can feel your stares,” Viktor says, not even moving from where he lays. He’s taken most of their one singular blanket and Jayce doesn’t have the heart to ask him to share.
“Would you prefer I look away?”
“There’s nothing you haven’t seen now, so there’s no point.” Viktor speaks his words rather idly, carefully sitting up. There’s an inherent fluidity to his motions, like that of a cat. Jayce realizes when he catches the grimace playing across Viktor’s face, the twinge of pain, that it’s likely more this is a pathway Viktor has crafted for his body to prevent aches. “I hope you found last night adequate.”
Adequate.
The word dances across Jayce’s mind with the full weight of Viktor’s self esteem, or lack thereof. Seven years of something so immense Jayce couldn’t dare to name it come to a head and all Viktor can bring himself to hope for is that Jayce found it adequate. Found him adequate. As though Viktor wasn’t the center of his world, hells, his universe. The very thing he has chosen to build his life around.
“It was far more than adequate, V.” Jayce sits up beside him. Then hesitation creeps in. “Did you only-?” Jayce has been learning, slowly but surely, to check his own ego. It’s possible he is the one lacking.
“Yes, Jayce,” Viktor deadpans. “I only a whole three times. No, I also found it to be significantly more than adequate. Should you wish to…seek comfort again, I would not be opposed.”
Jayce is keeping his ego in check, yes. But he’s no fool. It was not seeking comfort that led to what they had done. It was desire, it was something far larger than desire that Jayce was afraid of saying. Though truthfully, with Viktor pulling his legs to his chest, with the man beside him making himself as small as possible, Jayce realizes he’s not afraid for his sake. He’s afraid for Viktor’s.
“What should we have for breakfast?” Jayce asks. “We have…not completely mealy apples or some bread that should be not stale.”
“It’s the should there that’s so reassuring.”
“I’ll go into the village today, see if someone needs some help, so we can have meat for dinner tonight.”
Viktor frowns, but doesn’t quite look his way. He looks like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t bring himself to do it, his lips parting only for a moment before he shakes his head slightly, curling in further on himself.
“Just don’t overdo it, your leg is…it worries me,” Viktor admits. “I wouldn’t want you to make it worse by doing too much. I’ll start doing work as well.”
Jayce has been doing minor work until he finds something steadier. Mostly he’s been repairing things, but he can’t say no to an old lady that needs help installing a shelf or a mother asking for help tracking down a lost pet. Viktor hasn’t been able to bring himself to go out in the world, even though Viktor has as much, if not more, of a knack for tinkering than Jayce does. Healing takes time, it’s true.
All in due time, things will be better. Easier.
Jayce has maybe an hour total to prepare and he has to spend most of that hour wrangling a toddler that has recently discovered how to run. She can't exactly outrun him, but she can get herself in danger before he can catch her if he's not careful. Instead, he tries to give Reenie the task of picking a nice flower bouquet for herself. It's mostly half broken weeds rather than proper wild flowers, and she prefers to throw it in the air and then collect the stems, but it's better than the alternative of digging up bugs or trying to splash in the stream.
Somehow, Jayce manages to finish just in time for Viktor to appear on the porch, holding the watch he'd been given to fix. In truth, Jayce was the one to break it, because only he could ensure a repair would be challenging for the other man.
“Tati look!” Irena exclaims before Jayce can speak, gesturing to the table Jayce has arranged for them.
“What is this?” Viktor asks as he carefully steps down the stairs.
“An altar,” Jayce explains. “I know-” He stops, collecting himself again. “We have done a lot of this in the incorrect way and I'm happy that we're here but, I thought before we sign the papers we could have a ceremony. Here.”
“It's not legally binding, you know. A toddler cannot sign as witness.”
“I'm not worried about legal, V. I've been yours for so long, the legality of being your husband is much less important than the reality.”
“You did all of this for me?” Viktor sniffles. His hand rests again on his stomach, a reminder of the future that waits for them.
“It's not much. I had to hide a bunch of it under the porch but I tried my best.”
The altar is simple- a table with a white cloth covered by jars of flowers and two candles. There's nothing inherently holy about it, but everything to do with Viktor is holy to Jayce.
“I love it, I love you.”
Jayce steps forward and places a hand on Viktor’s lower back as they walk together to that makeshift altar. Jayce has set out his ring and Viktor has to awkwardly remove his only to return it to his finger. Neither of them perfectly remember the vows they were raised hearing, and halfway through they play a brief round of peekaboo with a child who is used to being the center of attention.
To Jayce it's perfect, more perfect than any grand ceremony could be. They seal the perfection with a kiss.
“Thank you, Jayce,” Viktor says, his voice wavering slightly. “I wanted- I wanted this.”
“A wedding?”
“I suppose? I know we tend towards practical, but I-”
“You deserve to be romanced, the full experience. I did say I was going to court you, didn't I? What kind of person would I be if I didn't see it through completely.”
“Now we've done it all, right? Marriage, children, committing to die together.”
“Just not in the correct order.”
“Eh, I like to keep things exciting.”
Viktor cups Jayce's cheek, brushing his thumb over that scar from their first night all those years ago.
“So what's next?” Jayce asks.
“Mm, hopefully cake.”
Jayce laughs and before he can think about kissing Viktor, Viktor is pulling him down for a kiss.
Freshly reeling from the revelation, Jayce knows he still has to warm Viktor to ensure he doesn't fall ill. Viktor is soaked through and shivering, he looks even smaller in these conditions.
“I'm sorry, Jayce,” Viktor says as Jayce towels off his hair, “for making you take care of me.”
“You're not making me do anything.” Jayce frowns slightly. “I choose to do this. All of this.”
“But why?” Viktor asks, tilting his head back just enough to get a look at him. There's a softness in his gold eyes. He seems more alert than he was when standing out on the porch.
“Well, because you're you and I'm me. That's what we do, isn't it?” Jayce answers. Any further confession might only distress Viktor further.
“Is it okay if I keep this?” Viktor tilts his head back before Jayce can give an answer.
“Keep-” Jayce pauses on the question. He's feeling a bit nauseous, he must admit, since the revelation. But it's more from the shock of it, the way everything has shifted now. There's a part of him already that feels something akin to joy. “You don't need my approval for that.”
“But we are eh- partners, you know? So these decisions should be made together.”
“Hm.” Jayce stops for a moment, laying the towel aside. “My decision is to take care of you, including this. And whatever this becomes.”
“Well, hopefully a baby.”
Hearing the word fills Jayce with relief, he finds that his shoulders sag. It's real. This life he's making with Viktor is real and this thing that they've made, delicate as it may now be, is real.
“Can't keep ourselves from creating things together, hm?”
Viktor leans back against him. He's still wet, soaking Jayce's shirt further. Jayce doesn't mind, he finds it comforting, the way he can feel the lines of his beloved through the soaked shirt. Instead of pulling away, he wraps his arms around Viktor.
“Tell me everything will be alright, Jayce.”
“Well in- eight? Seven? Months-”
“Closer to seven.”
“In seven months, there will be a baby. But there will also be a stocked pantry and a warm and comfortable home. We'll work on our little lab space in the back shed and continue to tinker and create and no one but us will own what we've made.”
“And you'll keep the beard?”
“And I'll keep the beard.” Jayce smiles to himself, kissing Viktor's temple. “The baby will probably like you more and I'll be jealous, but that's alright. I'll patch up the roof on the porch, so we can sit there on nice afternoons or rainy afternoons. Not storms like tonight.”
“Not storms, no,” Viktor responds, clearly half asleep.
“I'll make us a swing, so we can sit together and enjoy the view. You'll insist I'll never finish it, but I'll do it at just the right time. V, you can't sleep in your wet clothes.”
“No, I can’t.” Viktor rouses slightly and stands slowly. Jayce misses the feel of him in his arms, hesitating to let him go. “I'll change and then go back to bed.”
“I should change as well.”
Jayce watches him retreat to their bedroom. Everything will be alright, he'll make sure of it.