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Jayce didn’t want Viktor to wait up on him, but it wasn’t like Viktor to leave the laboratory on normal nights either.
He would tell him it was because of the hexcore, said it was because he found a way to fix his leg, and fix himself. But the truth would haunt Viktor each night when he was accompanied only by the pulsing glow of the core and the muted silence of the stone halls.
Because at least in the laboratory, Viktor would not feel as alone as he did in his own home. At least in the laboratory, even if he was by himself, he could feel Jayce’s presence through all their work. In the blueprints, the etches of chalk in the blackboard, even in the way the texts and notes were shoved together in cluttered piles. For someone who liked being so isolated most of the time, he seemed a little too troubled with the idea of being alone.
“Go home and rest, Viktor.” Jayce had said to him before he left, placing a hand on his shoulder as he worked on their equations. He was trying to soothe him. “Don’t overwork yourself. Nothing good could come out of it-”
Viktor drew a sharp line on the blackboard, cutting him off. A trail of chalk dust followed, crumbling to the floor.
“Have fun at your cocktail party, Jayce,” he told him as he shrugged his hand off.
Even though he couldn’t see him, Viktor could feel Jayce’s concerned gaze fixated to the back of his head, to his lame leg. And for just a moment he was absolutely disgusted with the fact that he couldn’t hold himself upright, even with the help of the cane that Jayce had so carefully crafted for him all those years ago. He was angry and he was in so much pain, and he just needed Jayce to leave.
Once he had gone, the huge doors echoing their close in his wake, Viktor limped to the nearest chair and collapsed into it. The pain in his leg had suddenly transformed into a mind blearing ache that had become nearly unbearable- the same way it always did when he was in a sour mood. When this happened there would be nothing he could do to treat or lessen the pain he felt; he just had to wait it out. Usually, Jayce would have been here to help him through it. His company didn’t take away the agony, but it did distract him. Just a bit.
Viktor’s vision started to splotch from the severity.
Not again. He gripped onto the sides of the chair, trying to anchor himself to reality. To the laboratory. His nails bent and ripped into the wood, scratching up the skin of his fingers as he desperately tried to find something- anything else to focus on rather than his leg. It didn’t work, because Jayce was still at a cocktail party with the gorgeous, incomparable Mel Medarda. And Viktor was still alone.
Viktor didn’t want to snap at Jayce. Whenever he was mad or harsh with him, more than he should have been, Jayce would never return with a single bit of bitterness. Not a single time. Whether Viktor would push him away or argue with him, Jayce would only be determined to close the gap between them. Viktor never knew what it was like to have someone that wanted him as close as possible. He didn’t know what to do.
The fact was that Jayce made Viktor a weak man. Weak in ways he didn’t know he could be weak in. Growing up in the undercity, he believed that he would be prepared for whatever nightmares that came with Piltover. He could deal with gangs, violence, death and disease. Nothing could phase him because he had seen it all.
But never, in a million years, would Viktor ever believe that he would be presented with the horror of being in love with Jayce Talis.
Sometimes, Viktor would try to pinpoint an exact moment when he fell for the Man of Progress. It could have been the first night they worked together, when they soared in the blue bathed air of Heimerdinger’s laboratory, high with the giddy of uncovering something nobody had seen before. It could have been the moment Jayce Talis had his trial with the Counselors- the same group he was a part of now- and tried convincing them of his ideas. Maybe it was all of them. Maybe there wasn’t one at all, or it was all built up after years and years, but it never really mattered.
Because everything Viktor had felt for Jayce came crashing onto him like a pile of bricks a few months ago, when he saved him from himself.
Last winter, Viktor had caught a cold and, as frail as he already was, fell ridiculously ill. Still, he lied so that he could work. He had handled far worse, what had a small fever got on him? But his self destructive ways did, in fact, come back to do some damage. Later that evening Jayce would find Viktor in a feverish pile on the floor of the laboratory, the color of death.
He had never seen Jayce so distraught. So angry. He remembered very little of that day, and anything he could remember was all a smudge. But if he tried hard enough, Viktor could recall the warm, calloused hands that cupped his face and gently pushed back his hair to feel his forehead. He could recall how Jayce took off his large coat and used it to wrap him up, and the way he scooped him into his arms and held him- hurt for him- the way nobody has ever done. He got him home quickly through the snow, but treaded slowly enough so Viktor wasn’t disrupted with his head propped up against Jayce’s chest.
His whole life, Viktor never understood physical touch. He would rarely enjoy it when someone would touch him, since it was usually out of ill intent. In Piltover he never really had to worry. Most of the people around here would never want to be near a disabled Zaunite, let alone come close enough to brush up against him. Of course, this never bothered Viktor.
But things were different with Jayce.
It was not enough to say that he understood that Jayce would never hurt him. Viktor only knew of his touch as a solace from the rest of the faulty city. His body had memorized the weight and form of his hands with every success and celebration, every frustration and consolation. At first, he just saw it as a way Jayce showed his compassion, but day by day, it started to become something that he himself desperately craved. It was a reminder that Viktor was no longer on his own.
So even in the bitter winter snowfall with a sickness pounding holes into his head, Viktor managed to drift into a deep sleep in his arms. When he woke up as a hot feverish mess in his own bed with a wet towel on his forehead, Jayce would be asleep at the side of his bed with his shirt damp with sweat and his face twisted with worry, looking like he had just gone through a war. In the following days he stayed glued at Viktor’s bedside as he got better, keeping him company and caring for him like a worried mother.
It was then that a weight that seemed to have held onto Viktor’s shoulders lifted. Why did it take him all these years to notice? Jayce had affection for him. It didn’t matter in what way, not at that moment.
Finally, Viktor had someone that cared for him.
And that should have been enough. At least for someone like him.
But he became selfish, and then afraid of his own greed. He wanted Jayce Talis to love him. Not beautiful Mel Medarda. He had seen the two together, linking arms and laughing. She was perfect in every way. Her politics, her cunning, her family name. Mel was the kind of woman who could have everything in the world without so much as curing her lip. She lived on a whole other planet compared to Viktor. He had seen what she provided for Jayce that he could not give him.
And he hated himself for it. As a child, there had been nights where he weeped for hours, cursing his leg, his disease, and his home city for ridding him the life he could have had. All the things that could have been. If only he knew.
-
“Viktor.”
The first thing Viktor saw when he woke up was a pair of shining gold eyes gleaming with moonlight, looking down at him. He was lying atop the blueprints on the table, his arms folded under his head. Turns out he had been fading in and out of consciousness- a result of the pain and the multiple sleepless nights before then- the whole time Jayce had been gone. He saw him now, a perfectly trimmed, somewhat raggled Jayce Talis. How long had he been standing there, watching him?
“Jayce.” Suddenly a bit embarrassed, he sat up. “You’re back.”
He laughed in reply, leaning onto the countertop next to him. “And you’re still here.”
“How was the party?”
“Tedious. Boring.” Slivers of light caught onto Jayce’s hair and his well toned skin, resulting in an effect that made it seem like he was glowing. “I wish you had been there.”
It was Viktor’s turn to laugh. “What would a man from the undercity even do at a function for the richest in Piltover?”
“Well it wasn’t just for the nobility. Most were businessmen-”
“Somewhat worse.”
“-who would have loved your ideas, Viktor. They would have loved you.”
“Are we talking about the same people?”
“I mean it.” Jayce leaned into him, almost too close. It was hard to see in the dim light, but wisps of his tousled hair tickled Viktor’s cheek and he could smell the heavy wine in his breath. The move startled him still and there was a beat of silence that lasted a second too long. “You’re brilliant. Anyone with half a mind would see that from the moment they see you.”
Stunned, Viktor let what he said sit in the air. Compliments from Jayce were not rare. In fact, there would hardly be a day that would go by where he wouldn’t say something of praise to him. But this one felt different. Now that he was close, Viktor could note the slight slur in all the moves he made. His attention flitted from Jayce’s eyes, which were drilling into his own, to his lips that hovered teasingly with a slight, intoxicated sway.
He wondered if he kissed Mel with those lips.
“You’ve had a few to drink,” Viktor said pointedly before turning away, praying he did not see the flush of red that he could feel lining his face. Out of embarrassment or jealousy, he didn’t know.
“I’m perfectly fine.”
“You should go home.”
Jayce scoffed. “Are you kidding? You do not get to say that to me.”
“Well, you’ve just come back from a long event and it’s two in the morning, so yes I think I do.” He reached over the scattered blueprints for his pencil, avoiding Jayce’s eye contact, but a hand closed on his wrist before he could reach it.
“Viktor…” Jayce was pleading now. “Why are you still here?” His fingers trailed from his wrist to his palm and then he was gently squeezing his trembling hand. Viktor tried not to pull away, though his ears burned. “Were you waiting for me? I asked you not to.”
“I wasn’t waiting!”
“This isn’t good for you. I’ve been- You can’t keep treating yourself like some kind of… machine that can run for days upon days-”
“I’m fine, Jayce!” He snatched his hand out from his grip and started to move toward his cane but Jayce caught his arm, firmly but not forcefully.
“No, you’re not fine. And you have to stop pretending that you are.”
Viktor turned, ready to snap at him, but then he froze. Jayce was hunched over with a grimace, and strands of his dark hair fell over his liquor glazed eyes. He did not think that he would look so… anguished. For the first time, Viktor noticed that he was very unsteady on his feet. The counter was the only thing that kept him from swaying where he stood.
Clumsily, Jayce started to pull him closer. Viktor let him. “How many glasses did you have?”
Jayce didn’t answer his question. “Do you know how horrified I was when I walked in?” he asked. “I thought the worst!” Viktor was taken back to the incident last winter and the state he was in when Jayce found him. It never really occurred to Viktor how traumatic it might have been for his partner. “Every time I see you in here, you’re in a weaker condition than when I left. I can’t even relax or enjoy myself whenever I’m not with you, because… Because I know you’re still here killing yourself.”
Viktor’s heart dropped to his stomach. The whole time Jayce was out, he was worrying about him? Every time he was gone? Suddenly it made sense, why Jayce started to spend all that with Viktor at the laboratory when he never did before. Why he was all of a sudden so insistent on sleeping at his desk while Viktor worked until they were both ready to leave.
Jayce had really spent the better part of the last few years looking after Viktor.
And Viktor needed to rethink their whole relationship. But how could he even begin to form a single coherent thought being at the center of attention of those stupid golden eyes?
He needed to be alone.
“Go home, Jayce. We can talk in the morning.”
“No! We’re talking now. I can’t go another night without knowing if you’re okay.”
“Then forget about me!” Viktor shouted. He tried to yank his arm from Jayce’s grasp, but he didn’t budge. Almost in a craze, he continued. “I’m not something you should be dwelling on, Jayce. You have your own life, out there with the people changing the direction of Piltover with Mel Medarda, and I have mine, here in the laboratory.” He was begging for Jayce to understand, so through that maybe one day he could too. “Don’t you see? Our lives were destined to be separated. That’s just the way things are.”
“But I don’t want that. I want to stay here with you.”
“Why? I can never understand you.”
A moment passed. Then Jayce let go of him and leaned back onto the desk, crossing his arms. He looked at him with expectation in his eyes. “What do you want, Viktor?”
What did he want? That question hadn’t once come up in Viktor’s head this whole time. But where would he begin?
I want a better body. I want to be stronger. I want you to stop looking at me in that way you do, like I could fall apart at the change of the wind. I want…
“It doesn't matter what I want,” he said instead.
“It does to me.”
Of course. How could he forget? This was Jayce he was talking to. Jayce, who was without fail, always the first person to stand by his side. But something else was happening here. Jayce watched him carefully, and when he didn’t reply, he sighed softly . “If you want me to go, I'll go. I don’t mean to force you.”
“No.” Viktor said it so quickly, he didn’t even know what to follow up with. “No, I don’t want that.”
One look at Jayce and he realized he said too much. What was he thinking? The Man of Progress didn’t deserve to be stuck in the laboratory day and night just because Viktor preferred his company. He could get up on a podium and talk to thousands. He could gain the trust and respect of anyone he wanted. He could be a symbol for the people and the future. And for Viktor to place another burden onto him…
“You’re not selfish to want something.” This whole time, Jayce had been watching him patiently, waiting for him to continue, but he never did. “Have you forgotten? This is my choice, too.”
“But you have the world out there, waiting for you-” He gestured out the window- to the foggy city of dust and lights. Jayce reached for his hand and pulled it away.
“I couldn’t care less about the damn fate of Piltover, Viktor.”
Perhaps it was the liquor. Perhaps it was the sleep deprivation from the both of them, but Jayce seemed bolder in a new way. More honest.
“Maybe it’s heartless of me- Maybe it’ll paint me as a bad person. But the Council can find a new counselor. The city can find another Man of Progress. I really don’t care. Not when I have this.” He nodded to the room. Their work. Then he soothed his thumb over the back of Viktor’s hands, tracing over every knuckle and tendon. “When I have you.”
He was so gentle, so sweet it nearly hurt, but Viktor was too shocked to notice. He had to register each word that came out of his mouth one by one. Then over and over.
Instantly, all the red in the room bloomed into his cheeks and ears. He could feel his pulse clawing up his throat, and he didn’t dare move. A part of him begged and cried for him to leave. He didn’t care about staying in the laboratory or being correct any longer, because if he stayed it would mean their relationship was about to change forever.
But anticipation held him so still. Left his hand in Jayce’s to feed the sparks that combed over their skin.
“What are you saying right now, Jayce?”
Teasingly, his hands slipped up to Viktor’s forearms as he kept his copper eyes steadily trained on him through the drunken haze. They fit so perfectly in his palms, in the ways he held him. A lump welled in Viktor’s throat, threatening to release with a cry. Was this what it was like to be known?
“You’re the smartest man I know.” Jayce breathed. “Couldn’t you have guessed?”
Viktor could see that he was nervous, too. His lip was trembling and his breathing was erratic, which had never happened before. Not a single time. It was him who made Jayce Talis into such a mess.
“Tell me.”
“I’m saying it’s not enough. The Council, the Man of Progress, none of it would be enough without you.” Jayce pulled him closer, slowly enough so that Viktor had the chance to stop him a hundred times over. He never did. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”
They were face to face, the space between them occupied only by moonlight and the last traces of Jayce’s cologne from earlier. “But do you know what the funny part is?” he continued. “I think my life finally began the night I tried to end it, because I got to meet you. And I have never loved anyone the way I love you.” A trembling hand rose to carefully caress his face, which was now wet with tears.
“God. I am so in love with you, Viktor.”
The next few moments were a blur. Each second seemed to last forever and not long enough at the same time. Viktor remembered the texture of the suit Jayce was wearing under his fingertips and he remembered the earthy taste of apple wine in his own mouth. Jayce cradling his body and Viktor running his fingers through and grasping his once neatly primmed hair.
Even through kissing, Jayce was gentle but fervid. His lips were soft, but they crushed him with a silent desperation and a hunger Viktor had never seen before. His hands moved toward his spine, supporting his waist as he deepened the kiss and pressed their torsos together like he wanted to meld into his skin. Heartbeat matched heartbeat. Impatiently, Jayce nipped at his lips and their teeth clashed, not painfully. Viktor’s mind blanked over and over again with each move he made, barely keeping up.
When they finally broke away, he was embarrassed with how out of breath he was. The fluster in his cheeks started to feel physical, like a thin film that could be rubbed away.
He looked at Jayce, who looked back at him with more love than he could begin to comprehend. Jayce looked at him like he was the only thing he could see. “You don’t need to breathe?” he half asked.
Jayce just wouldn’t stop smiling back at him before leaning in to peck him on the lips again, then his cheek and his eye.
And then Viktor remembered that it was him who leaned forward to kiss Jayce in the first place. He, who had never initiated any physical contact between them a single time in the years they had known each other, was the one to first kiss Jayce.
At least, Jayce didn’t seem to mind. “You taste sweet,” he murmured against his cheek. Viktor could feel the reverberation in his words against his face before he pulled away and smacked a hand over Jayce’s mouth.
He really couldn’t take it anymore. Viktor wasn’t used to this at all, and every motion Jayce made would just drive Viktor more and more insane. He was reaching his limit.
Jayce was surprised, but he didn’t fight back. Viktor couldn’t even look him in the eye. “Don’t say things like that,” he whispered, a little helplessly. Perhaps the stain of liquor he picked up from his partner’s mouth had started to get him tipsy, too. “I think it’s time to go home.” Under his palm, he felt his lips pull into a smile, then kiss it.
“Okay.”
As they left the building hand in hand, Viktor snuck a glance at Jayce, hoping that maybe he was at least half as shaken as he was. His hair was a perfect mess, with locks falling in front of his eyes and all that was originally slicked down stuck up in every direction- thanks to him. Despite all this, he was still as beautiful as ever.
And he was all his.
“Are you sure about this?” Viktor asked. He gestured to their hands. “About…”
“About loving you?” Jayce laughs. “Vik, I’ve never in my whole life been more sure about anything else.”
Viktor melts, because of the assurance or the nickname, he doesn’t know. “It won’t be as you may expect,” he warns. “It could be hard. I won’t blame you if you change your mind.”
He did not reply right away. When Viktor turns to face Jayce, he is already watching him with a forlorn look in his eyes. “You know me. Do you think anything you do could surprise me after all our time together? I’m a fool, I know. Waiting until now to tell you, but I would be the biggest goddamn ass if I let you go.”
An assurance so strong that Viktor may never have to hear it again from anyone else. He doesn’t believe it. “You don’t find me hard to love?”
They are outside now, and the cool late night breeze envelopes them both. The soft amber glow from street lamps illuminated Jayce’s face as he carefully brushed away the hair from Viktor’s face and kissed his forehead. Slowly and intentionally. Somewhere in the echoing distance, or maybe it’s just in his head, there is music.
“Hard to love? Viktor, I love you like it is breathing,” Jayce told him. “And nothing will ever change that.”
The air is cold, but Viktor feels the warmest he has ever been in a very long time.