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Jayce’s life had fallen apart more times than what should be appropriate for a man his age.
Blizzards and explosions; mortal peril and expulsion. The birth of his dream and visions of the future, and its shattered promises, right before being pieced together and scaled into something much grander, to greater heights than he’d ever thought possible.
At the center of it all, of their Hextech dream,
Was Viktor.
The man who got their dream off the cold, dirt floor. Who found Jayce in his darkest moments, discarded, ridiculed, and deemed a threat,
And found hope. Found possibility. Found intrigue, passion,
Found someone worthy. Even when he’d found Jayce a mere second, a single step away from being remembered as nothing more than his trial, his failure, and his madness.
He’d remembered being lost in a haze of his own darkness, an endless replay of the insults flung at him at the hearing, the bartering and begging to the Kirammans. His mind, running on fumes and desperation, in a doomed cycle of fabricating what ifs had he only kept his mouth shut and listened to Professor Heimerdinger, had he laid down before the Council and exposed his uselessness like a guileless fool, then maybe he could have prevented his dismissal from the academy, could have avoided the loss of his sponsorship, could have averted the confiscation of years of research—
Instead of his impulsivity taking control, infuriated and indignant, baring his teeth like a base animal before the most powerful people in all of Piltover,
And losing everything in the process.
“Am I interrupting?”
Sweet milk.
His scent sliced through the fog, bringing Jayce back to himself,
Back a step from that ledge.
Betas had a natural calming effect, and while not as potent as an Omega, Jayce felt his body respond to it all the same. It gave Jayce something to focus on. Something to keep from raising his hackles and forcing the Beta away, ordering him to turn tail so Jayce could—
So Jayce could…
Finish what he started
But then he started to talk, ignoring Jayce’s displeased growls and irate glares, all to dangle that bit of hope in him so tantalizing, as if Jayce had a fighting chance, as if there was some way out of this pit that he’d been pushed so far down into that he couldn’t even see the stars in the sky.
He’d come closer, uncaring of the misery pouring off of Jayce. Or maybe it was because he’d been drawn here by that forlorn air, holding Jayce’s notebook and coaxing the Alpha away from the dismal abyss below and right to his side, where the Beta dared to make Jayce envision his dreams becoming reality.
“When you’re going to change the world, don’t ask for permission.”
Jayce remembered inhaling sharply. Warm, spicy, sweet. Something within him shifted, A call. An instinct. It took everything in Jayce to keep from burying his fangs into the soft, inviting flesh of this Beta’s neck.
It was within a Dominant Alpha’s nature to take, to possess. Every page of his research, down to the scraps of paper taped to the sheets of his notebooks, prototypes and models and schemas, bearing his name, his mark, and his claim.
And as the Beta held out his hand, brazen, brilliant, the rune Jayce had discarded almost glowing in the dusky gloom in his palm—
“I don’t even know your name.”
“It’s Viktor.”
—Jayce was determined to claim Viktor as his too.
Years down the road, through countless reworked templates, adjusted designs, failures, stumbles, breakthroughs, and triumphs—
“Finally… Viktor, finally."
—Jayce thought Viktor had been ready to solidify their bond. That all his years of courting, of investing in and securing their futures, had finally come to fruition. That all along, Viktor stood by his side, knowing he was adored, beloved, and been the sole recipient of Jayce’s devotion.
Jayce’s life had fallen apart more times than what should be appropriate for a man his age.
“Why…” A thin hand reached out, clasping the blooming lilacs and violets on the skin of his slender neck. Viktor sounded pained, exhausted, weak, “How…how could you—Jayce…”
Betrayed.
This time was no exception.
.....
....
...
..
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Jayce startled awake. He was greeted with the soft light of dawn peeking through his curtains and soft breathing beside him. Squeezing his eyes shut, Jayce silently cursed. His chest ached and his head throbbed as thoughts and memories and demoralizing regret swirled in an unpleasant cocktail. Flashes of that dream replaying in a loop had soured any attempts at falling back asleep.
Worst yet, that hadn’t even been how The Talk went.
With effort, Jayce could parse through his recollections, picking out dramatics from reality. When things fell apart, it hadn’t erupted from fiery depths of treachery and oppression, nor a tearful soliloquy of broken trust and despairing rejection. In many ways, it might have been easier if it had been. It might have given Jayce the catharsis that he needed.
It was, however, a long and bitter discussion that left Jayce off-kilter and thoroughly unsure and unsteady on how to proceed moving forward.
Shame incessantly plagued him and guilt continued to gnaw the corners of his mind, chasing him here to the waking world. In the quiet hours of daybreak, Jayce could almost ignore its weight, could almost turn away from its shadows and focus on the fact that despite it all, despite the worst of Jayce’s fears, Viktor was still here.
Viktor had chosen to forgive him.
“Jayce…?”
And Jayce wretchedly treated that fact as a victory: that his partner remained by his side, in spite of it all. Jayce pressed a kiss to the crown of Viktor’s head. “Sorry…did I wake you?”
Whether it was truly Viktor’s choice or not. “No.” The simple reply had Jayce wondering when Viktor had gotten so skilled at lying to him. “I just…wanted to lay with you for a bit longer.”
Jayce’s heart thudded painfully behind the cage of his ribs. Fingertips roved over the expanse of his skin, mapping a trail back home to his own heart. “Oh? Finally listening to me about taking time to rest? Is the sky falling?” Smiling against his skin, Jayce buried his face at the curve of Viktor’s shoulder.
The bruises have almost faded.
Jayce squeezed his eyes shut, pressing against Viktor’s warmth.
Even at this angle, Jayce knew Viktor was rolling his eyes. Hiding a laugh on his lips with the annoyance in his words. “No, you big oaf, it’s because your tree-trunk of an arm is slung over my torso.”
Jayce gave a breathy chuckle. “You weren’t complaining before.”
In defiance, Viktor attempted to wriggle out of his grasp and in turn, Jayce began to whine like a pup as he clung on in petulance. Fits of comfortable laughter bubbled between the two, as if moments like these would bridge the gulf that had widened between them.
Sine waves. It was easier to visualize and conceptualize it like so, at least for Jayce. Regular peaks and valleys. The lows followed the highs and the highs followed the lows. A natural constant. When Jayce had almost died in the snowstorm with his mother, a mage came and rescued them. When the explosion occurred and Jayce believed he lost it all, Viktor found him and they built their dream together.
And when Jayce thought he ruined it all, poisoned Viktor with his affections and destroyed their partnership with his actions,
Viktor loved him anyway.
Jayce kissed him again. And again. Covering every mole, scar, and beauty mark within his reach. That much, he was allowed to do, despite every kiss tasting like an apology.
The novelty of their coupling and the aftermath of The Talk left Jayce at odds with what he was and wasn’t allowed to do. It felt like the budding of their partnership all over again, except there were expected rules in the lab that any scientist implicitly understood. Dress appropriately—no open-toed shoes. Eye safety is a must. Don’t leave your cane somewhere Jayce can trip on it. Don’t leave your sandwiches to mold next to Viktor’s sweet milk.
Check your maths. Carry the two. Measure twice—cut once.
Now, the rules were far more foreign. Beta understanding of courting, of mating, clashed heavily with Alpha instincts.
Implicit claims were not-so implicit when Betas understood Alphas to mark their territory indiscriminately (“I put you in my House colors, Viktor!” “I assumed it was natural territorialism!”),
It was quite scandalous for any unmated pair to spend a rut or heat together in Piltover custom (“Here I thought you were just really forward.”) whereas Zaun Betas were taught to soothe pack Alphas and Omegas during ruts and heats (“Ah, that explained your mother’s scandalized expression.”),
For an Alpha, collars were customary to present their mates; Beta pairings preferred rings,
And a myriad of others that the two learned along the way. This new understanding of misunderstanding led to communication being more…tentative. Approached with more consideration. More hesitation. A careful dance with timid steps and an unsteady rhythm. Not a bad thing, by any means.
Far better than the alternative of being bereft of his mate and partner entirely.
Especially since Jayce had gotten rather attached to the love of his life. “Jayce,” Viktor huffed from the mirror’s reflection. “I’ll let you know when dressing myself becomes a two-person activity.”
Jayce hummed, fastening the back brace and ensuring it aligned where indicated with the curve of Viktor’s spine. He gave a pleased smile, admiring the view. “I mean… undressing you typically is.” Especially the collar sitting prettily against Viktor’s throat.
“That’s a newer development. And only because you get impatient,” Viktor muttered, hastily throwing a shirt over his head, likely to avoid getting caught with his cheeks stained pink.
Before he could get the hem past his neck, Jayce pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades, chuckling at the little squawk that followed.
Exiting the Talis home after a hearty breakfast (“I’m serious, Jayce…I can’t eat another bite.” “But…mamá made them especially for you.” “Eres el diablo, Jayce Talis.”) The Man of Progress went over the rest of their schedule as he held the carriage door open for his partner.
His partner that was doing a fine job of concealing his mounting dread. “So, what’s on the agenda today?”
They’d slowly chipped away at the arrangements over the past month, taking measured breaks in-between as the days wore on, and with it, the added stress and fatigue. Viktor, despite Jayce’s best efforts and his mamá’s miraculous cooking, remained easily exhausted by mid-day, masking his weariness with a front of annoyance and delegating the remaining tasks to Jayce. It worried Jayce endlessly, but Viktor had always been quick to wave it away as the natural consequence of his chronic illness and disability. Offers to massage his leg and carry him were met with immediate rejection.
Wedding planning, as it were, required far more meticulous preparation than Jayce had ever anticipated, even with an experienced coordinator on their team. Quite naively, Jayce had grand visions of a romantic exhibition, Viktor painted in his House colors, attached to his arm as he announced to the world that his exquisite mate was wholly, solely, his.
What he hadn’t envisioned was spending two hours alone on fonts, parchments, and embellishments on wedding invitations as part of the journey. But even that had been comparatively mild in comparison to their growing list of tasks: every day, it was confounding chaos of wedding dates, venues, guest lists, seating arrangements, décor, music, theming, suits, catering, cakes—
At this point, Jayce wondered if he should have just married Viktor at the top of that ridge and dealt with the fallout after. He was sure his mamá would forgive him for eloping with the love of his life. You know, eventually.
The hour was nearing dusk by the time they retreated to the carriage for their appointment with the florists. Viktor, despite growing more winded himself, rubbed Jayce’s back with sympathy and only a hint of schadenfreude.
“Don’t even think about it.”
“Think about what?” Jayce was certain something in him would snap like tense twine if he was forced to develop another thought today.
“About eloping. Your mother would kill you.”
Jayce gave a noncommittal sound as he buried his nose at the crook of Viktor’s neck, taking calming breaths of his subtly sweet scent before their final consultation of the day. The fact that the collar got in the way of Jayce’s simple indulgence was a definite downside.
Viktor held his hand, thumb brushing over the simple, elegant band on Jayce’s wedding finger.
Maybe Betas were on to something with these rings.
It was at least a pleasant surprise seeing just how readily Viktor took to the planning process. Sure, Jayce felt a little bit like a domesticated dog as his mate led him towards the shop bursting with their abundant blooms and fine florals, but it was worth it seeing the shop owners defer to Viktor’s decisions. It was one of Viktor’s many honed skills: taking in the overwhelming amount of information before him and simplifying it down to its basic functions and structures, and finding ways where they would all fit together.
Jayce considered it the best of both worlds: his mate relieved him of decision-fatigue, and Jayce got to puff up in pride seeing Viktor instil his own personal touches to their wedding. Even at the expense of their wedding coordinator’s patience. Among the vibrant reds and golds of the Talis name that were a natural choice for the occasion, Viktor also gravitated towards shades of lavenders, blues, and baby pinks in a cosmic swirl that even caught Jayce off guard.
It clashed terribly with the rest of the décor; the florists knew it, their wedding coordinator begged for Viktor to reconsider, but aesthetic be damned, this was their day and it made Viktor happy.
As odd as the selections were, Viktor had Jayce’s wholehearted support.
“Huh.” Jayce held up the purple alliums, wracking his brain. Did Viktor ever wear anything in these shades? Did he ever own anything of these hues? Jayce would have noticed if he did. Would have noticed if Viktor had dotted their lab with splashes of color, had nested comfortably with his preferences in mind. “I never would have guessed.”
But Betas didn’t tend to do that, did they?
Viktor looked at him, fingers trailing the tassels of the amaranth in his hand. “If you asked, you never would have needed to guess.”
A pit opened up in his stomach and Jayce wondered where that was when it could have eaten his words before he had a chance to open his mouth. “S-sorry, I—”
“I thought you understood.”
“How could I have known?”
“All this time? All this time and you refused to say anything?!”
“I could say the same to you. At least I didn’t start with my teeth.”
“Jayce…” Viktor called out, a thumb brushing against his cheek. Jayce held a breath. “I was talking about the flowers, Jayce,” Viktor reassured softly, despite lying to Jayce once more. “Nothing more. Nothing less.”
Jayce nodded, and found there was little room to argue back. Not here. Not with the shop owners, their planner, and the other patrons keeping a keen eye on them. Not when they had to play the part of the happy couple.
And definitely not with this gulf between them. Not when all the apologies in the world couldn’t turn back the clock to stop himself when he’d hurt Viktor the most. Not when a quiet, cruel part of Jayce couldn’t bring himself to regret his actions, not when it brought him to exactly what he wanted:
To Viktor obtusely orbiting the baby romanticas while ignoring the wedding coordinator’s exasperated looks; to Viktor bearing his collar on his neck, visible for all to see, branding him to the Talis name; to Viktor planning a wedding with Jayce, giving his input on flowers, on appetizers, and rings, and adding little touches and superstitions Jayce had never heard of but were of accord in Zaun culture, molding and melding this celebration as something that’s wholly theirs,
Even when Viktor never fully agreed to it.
Even when Jayce had forced this marriage upon him with one selfish bite.
Jayce never thought of Viktor as weak.
Delicate, in some ways, especially now, scrambling for purchase on their sheets, thighs trembling and attempting to hide away his gasps, moans, and the lewd expression on his face as Jayce worked him open with his fingers and tongue. A part of Jayce seethed at the notion of his own mate daring to hide himself away from him, as if taunting him to pin those thin wrists above his head so Jayce could greedily take in every little sound he made, to watch his darling Viki lose himself on his cock.
Instead, Jayce focused his attentions on more important things: namely, nuzzling his cheek against Viktor’s thigh and withdrawing his fingers from his mate’s twitching cunt to spread his lips and wrap his mouth around Viktor’s cock. The resulting scream went straight Jayce’s own throbbing cock, leaking precum between his legs.
“Jay…Jayce,” Viktor rasped, his breathing ragged and desperate, lifting his hips and grinding into his Alpha’s face. “Fuck, Jayce…”
Jayce could get addicted to the hunger in his voice alone. The air was heady with slick and sweat; Viktor’s mild scent of sweet milk and something else Jayce couldn’t name—something warm, rich, and earthy—grew stronger, almost ambrosial the closer he got to cumming. Jayce tasted the difference too and wondered if it was just his imagination, if the sugary spice truly got sharper as his tongue lapped up more and more of Viktor’s juices the more desperate his mate got. Jayce swore it did, and he would happily keep testing that hypothesis all night. He could get drunk off Viktor’s taste, could live and die like this, right between Viktor’s thighs with his nose buried in dark curls like nothing else mattered.
As long as he can keep making Viktor feel good.
The introduction to a bit of teeth had Viktor arching his back in a way that might be a problem for tomorrow as slick coated Jayce’s chin, his resounding cry ringing in Jayce’s ears. Jayce’s thoughts were subsequently fragmented into slivers of observation: of tense muscles, staccato breaths filling the air, of flushed cheeks, and teary amber eyes glazed over in a post-orgasmic haze.
A flash of hunger flared through Jayce and all he wanted was to beg Viktor for absolution at the way his instincts roared to mount him.
So open, so vulnerable beneath him…Jayce felt his mouth water at the temptation. It was an irresistible call to his most primal impulses: To claim. To possess. To breed—
But guilt did wonders to self-restraint. Jayce instead leaned over him, burying instinct with layers of inhibition and shame, covering every mole, every scar, and beauty mark with glass-delicate kisses, as if any further pressure would have Viktor shattering under him.
No, Jayce never thought of Viktor as weak.
Jayce himself was another story.
Viktor absently ran his fingers through Jayce’s hair, the calming motion lulling Jayce to a false sense of security with how pleasant Viktor’s fingers and nails felt against his scalp. He rumbled contentedly at the sensation, nuzzling against his palm, until Viktor gave a harsh yank, dragging Jayce to meet his smoldering gaze.
“Jayce…”
It was not a soft, Omegan purr that greeted him. It was a snarl of ire and irritation as Viktor bared his fangs as a warning; as a means of self-preservation.
“We’re still not done.”
Viktor’s kiss, in stark contrast, was one of aggression and control. Heat flashed through Jayce at the act of defiance, at the challenge to him and his position as Alpha. Not in fury, not in outrage, but in heady, delirious desire. The urge to pin Viktor down and take what he needed was almost overpowering, to sink his teeth into him, lose himself entirely in Viktor’s heat, meeting Viktor’s demands, meeting his greed with violence—
It was a test to his patience, toeing the line of what was acceptable for him to want and what Viktor would allow. It took everything in Jayce to pull away, to take Viktor’s hand and loosen his grip and return his ferocity and vigor with soft, quiet affection.
Adoring kisses and gentle nuzzles answering his love’s behest was met with confusion, and gave way to an evident fatigue and mounting disappointment. This was especially evident with how Viktor went pliant beneath him, enthusiasm vanishing without a trace.
Well.
Not the reaction Jayce was looking for.
“Viktor…” his voice fell into a whine, seeing his mate curl away from him, hiding away from him. He’d upset him again. It seemed that was all Jayce was good for these days.
“It’s fine, Jayce.” Jayce knew, for a fact, that it was not fine. Viktor’s voice was clipped, he wouldn’t look him in the eye, and that tantalizing storm in his gaze had faded while Jayce had to contend with the quiet wreckage that was left in its wake. “I’m just tired. Hand me the blanket, will you?”
Jayce reluctantly pulled away from Viktor’s warmth and did as he was told, watching with disappointment of his own with how Viktor burrowed himself beneath a pile of cashmere and shivered from what Jayce was sure wasn’t simply from the cold. It was a ridiculous sight, all things considered, with Viktor seeming to drown under the fabric, painfully sulky and sullen at the turn of events. The only evidence Jayce had of his partner’s presence next to him were the tufts of dark hair peeking out, and the tiny, measured movements of breath from beneath the covers once he settled.
It was a meager form of defense, a flimsy little fortress that left a space between them far larger than just the expanse of a blanket.
Jayce was still shamefully hard and he wondered if he’d be spending another night taking care of it beneath the icy spray of his shower. Retreat for the night. Pretend everything was fine in the morning.
Right. He tried that before and the result of that had eventually culminated to The Talk. Jayce knew he couldn’t leave well enough alone, could never leave well enough alone when it came to Viktor. He curled up next to his partner and cuddled close, sighing, breathing out, “Viki…” and waited.
No response.
“Viki," he tried again, waiting for Viktor’s annoyance to stir, for anything.
“What.” A flat response, muffled by silky fabric, but a response nevertheless.
“You’re upset.” It was hardly an accusation.
“I’m not…” Jayce snorted at the blatant lie. “I’m not upset at you,” Viktor clarified, as if such a response would mollify Jayce. As if that suddenly made it okay that Jayce’s own mate was going to bed, upset and refusing to look at him.
Jayce rumbled unhappily, catching the shift in Viktor’s scent; the sweetness of their intimacy had all but faded to something volatile, on the edge of eruption. Jayce didn’t know how to stop pushing the issue, not when his anxieties took control like this, not when he could never stop asking for more when it came to Viktor. “I need you to tell me.” Jayce couldn’t go based on his scent, his body language, his assumptions alone. “I don’t…” I don’t want to make that mistake again. “I can’t read your mind.” I can't hurt you again.
“It’s not you, Jayce.” Irritation bled into Viktor’s words, but he was still replying. Jayce considered that a good thing. Considered it a win. “There’s nothing that needs to be done.” Viktor spoke with finality, yet at the tail of his words, almost an afterthought, he quietly added, “I simply forgot myself…that’s all.”
“Forgot what?” Getting Viktor to speak his mind was like pulling teeth at times. On the one hand, he never faltered when it came to valid criticisms regarding the theory and proofs of their research, but the moment attentions were turned to his own thoughts and emotions, everything went dark. Jayce had only ever been presented with furtive glances and ghosts of Viktor’s inner workings. Mere tricks of the light. Smoke and mirrors. For years, Jayce was under the illusion that he knew Viktor inside and out.
He’d been proven wrong again and again.
Sine waves. “Viktor, please, just talk to me.”
“It’s fine, Jayce. I won’t ask again.”
Peaks and valleys. “I don’t…” A cog slotted into place. The gears began turning. “Is it…is it about sex? Did I do something wrong?”
A second’s hesitation. A brief contemplation. “No, that part was fine.”
“Fine?”
”Good, it was good,” Viktor quickly amended.
“Then what’s wrong?” Jayce pressed.
“I already said nothing’s wrong —”
“Then why are you hiding from me again?”
Viktor was quiet for a moment. Then another. Jayce’s own thoughts filled the blank spaces with catastrophes and disasters. The silence stretched for another while longer, a pause, a coda, until the softest confessions broke through the cadence of Jayce’s own breathing. “To make things easier.”
“For?” Viktor shifted beneath the sheets. Jayce pressed a kiss to the top of the brown mop peeking out of the blankets.
It seemed to do the trick as Viktor finally resurfaced. “…for you.” And still refused to meet Jayce’s gaze. Jayce frowned, especially at the grimace of a smile Viktor wore on his lips. “It must be difficult for you to see me like this.” He buried his face into the blanket’s forgiving material. “How unappealing it must be to—”
“What?!”
Viktor winced, as if Jayce could have reacted any other way. “I don’t doubt your feelings, Jayce,” Viktor elaborated, as if wanting Viktor and being in love with Viktor were two completely separate entities. In theory, it made sense, in a convoluted way that actually did not make sense to Jayce at all.
“But you doubt that I want you?” The mere thought of it was impossible. Laughable. Jayce found no humor in it. “After everything?”
“What else am I supposed to think?” Viktor scoffed, turning away. “I’m not blind, Jayce. I’ve seen myself in the mirror. And you never—”
“I never what?” Jayce found himself livid at the accusation. “Held you down like a goddamn animal? Took what I wanted from you like a beast? Pumped you full til your tits leaked with milk and your belly rounded with my pups?” Jaye searched Viktor’s face, eyes round with shock, for any signs of disgust, for affront, for fear.
He found none.
Jayce yanked the blanket away, leaving no part of Viktor protected from his gaze. “Jayce—!” He was shivering, red with embarrassment, and wet between his legs from want.
“For a genius, you sure missed the mark.” There was no kindness in this kiss; all affection and adoration replaced with teeth and lust, mirroring, echoing what Viktor had so clearly asked of him prior. If only Jayce had the mind to listen. “I want you. Fuck, I want you, Viktor…I want you like nothing else.” There he is: his Viki, all hazy desire and dulcet submission. All for him. Jayce squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his forehead to Viktor’s as he cupped his cheek. “But the last time I took what I wanted from you—”
But Jayce hoped—knew— that Viktor would ultimately understand.
This is for us, Jayce promised.
“How could you—Jayce…” Viktor’s voice wobbled beneath the weight of his betrayal. The gravity of his hurt.
“How could you do this to us?”
“And for a genius, you missed the obvious signs.” Viktor tugged Jayce down for a proper kiss, less teeth despite the warning nip Jayce’s bottom lip was afflicted, and immediately soothed with an apologetic lick. Jayce savored the breath of laughter that followed as he chased Viktor’s mouth after his mate pulled away. Jayce almost melted against the warmth of Viktor’s palm against his cheek, against the warmth of his eyes on him. “I want this, Jayce. This isn’t like before.”
Jayce felt his heart skip a beat, on bated breath, waiting on Viktor’s command:
“I’m begging for it.”
Fuck. Jayce nuzzled along Viktor’s throat, refrained by precious metals and leather Jayce forged himself. He’d almost entirely covered Viktor’s lithe body with his own, ensuring there was no escape. “Are you sure?” Jayce needed to know. He wouldn’t make the same mistake again. Wouldn’t hurt Viktor like that again.
Not unless Viktor asked him to.
“Just because I was unaware of your intentions the first time doesn’t mean I didn’t want it then, either.” And he wanted Jayce. Hadn’t remembered a time where he didn’t know his name and didn’t want him. And he wanted Jayce in all the ways that Jayce wanted him too: in all the ways Jayce had been holding back. “Are you denying your mate?” he half-teased, half-demanded.
And Jayce shuddered, holding Viktor tightly, denying that No , he’s not, he never could.
“Then listen to me when I tell you that I want this.”
But you’ve gotten too good at lying to me.
“I’ll tell you if it’s too much,” he murmured, a siren song that rekindled a feral lust within Jayce that he desperately buried with ashes from guilt as Viktor unfastened the metal bindings. “I trust you.”
The collar fell from his neck.
Viktor bared his throat, lilacs and violets dusting the skin Jayce had neglected out of convention, out of kindness, out of fear. Viktor, his mate, presented it to him in offering and Jayce felt the last of his control splinter and snap.
Viktor was well aware that Jayce was not a small man.
In direct contrast to Viktor, slight and fragile in physical ways that really should have made him reconsider his current position as Jayce lined up his hard, dripping cock against his cunt.
Ah well.
Viktor was neither a coward, nor a weakling, and he refused to go down like one.
He bit his lip as the flared head rubbed against him, coated generously in his juices, and nudged against his own throbbing cock. Viktor let out a shuddering breath, lifting himself and pushing back against him. He expected it would hurt. Had it not been for Jayce’s thorough stretching and preparation earlier, the stretch would be near-excruciating, reducing him to tears, and reducing him to begging the Alpha to slow, to cease, to stop after all that grandstanding and insisting that Viktor could take it.
That Viktor could come to terms with all the ways that Jayce claims he wanted him.
If Jayce would only show him.
Viktor’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as Jayce pushed the head of his cock inside, tension giving way to fractured moans. He focused on the breathless feeling of being filled, made so utterly full that he felt the wind knocked out of him in gasps to make room. Tears pricked at the corner of Viktor’s eyes as Jayce kept going, Viktor holding back whimpers and mewls in fear of Jayce stopping, withdrawing, regretting, and never daring to touch Viktor like this ever again,
Which, frankly, might actually kill him.
Because as much as the stretch burned, and as much as Viktor might actually feel Jayce’s cock in his lungs, another sensation crested over the pain and discomfort entirely: Pleasure. Viktor gasped and Jayce ground his cock inside him, shoving the massive length deeper within him, and punching out a weak cry from Viktor’s mouth. His hands clawed and scratched at Jayce’s back, leaving frantic red lines and blood beneath his nails.
Desperation.
Turbid thoughts and crystalline want.
“Jayce…” he’d managed— a whimper, a hymn, and prayer. And Viktor found himself brutally fucked in an instant.
Jayce pounded ruthlessly away at him; the burn of his cock sliding into his body, the drag and friction of his mate’s cock stretching his walls quickly became shamefully addictive. Heat in his gut started pooling, walls fluttering with each violent thrust, and drool dripping from the side of his mouth as Jayce worked up something resembling a rhythm. Viktor attempted to gain some modicum of coherency before Jayce’s hands found his waist: large, warm, completely encircling his entire middle.
His thrusts grew frantic, sloppy, and Viktor felt like he would drown in it all. His eyes were bleary with tears when he caught sight of what Jayce was so transfixed by: the outline of his cock…showing right through his stomach. There was a stutter of Jayce’s hips, the barest inklings of hesitation, before Jayce leveraged his grip to change his angle and make Viktor scream.
The hissing heat at the pit of his stomach began to bubble and boil over, spilling to molten magma in his veins, surging sparks of lust flashing beneath his eyelids, and a straight shot of rapture ravaging his body as Jayce continued to push into him, brushing and grinding against the spot in his inner walls with every thrust that made Viktor sob and wail. A line and litany of bites littered his neck, every point of teeth anointing him with a rush of venom, a declaration of possession, of obsession branding him for the world to see.
Viktor gave pitiless little cries, pleasure-pain blissfully, cruelly melding together, slick and sweat staining their bed as every thought lost its lucidity, until his world was narrowed to nothing more than Jayce,
Jayce’s hands on his waist, holding him down, making sure Viktor could do little more than lay beneath him and take his cock,
Jayce’s teeth on his neck, marking their bond again and again, as if a single bite could never be enough,
Jayce’s growls in his ear, warning him, reminding him that this was exactly what Viktor had asked for,
His violence, his obsession,
The careless cruelty in him that made Viktor cum, sobbing and screaming as slick sprayed between their bodies, was absolutely everything Viktor wanted.
Jayce had every intention of going slow.
He did, damn him, he knew exactly what Viktor had asked of him and he still couldn’t bear the thought of hurting him, of ruining his delicate partner like Viktor had so earnestly implored of him.
That hadn’t gone exactly as planned.
Not from the moment Jayce watched Viktor’s cunt drool slick all over his cock, not from the moment Viktor lifted his hips and enticed him to push inside,
Not from the moment a strangled yelp left Viktor’s throat when Jayce pressed into him and found every coherent thought slipping out of him like sand in a sieve.
Heat.
That was all Jayce could focus on. Tight. Wet. Addictive heat.
At the end of the day, Jayce was little more than a red-blooded Alpha, Dominant title be damned when he was at Viktor’s utter mercy, needing little more than his instincts to take over at that very moment, to shut down all higher brain function and thought processes as his basest desires took the helm, wanting nothing, thinking of nothing else but the wet slide in and out of the hot little cunt he was rutting into and the sweetest little noises he could wrench from the throat between his teeth.
Ah, so he can get loud.
It was something that Jayce hadn’t anticipated during their first few nights together. Viktor wasn’t shy in making his opinions known—had very important thoughts to share in matters of everything, and Jayce was always eager to listen. So it came as a big surprise how quiet Viktor made himself when Jayce was busy taking him apart. Biting his lip until it split with a red tang of blood; biting down on pillows, the meat of Jayce’s shoulder, his own arm, as if a single moan could spill secrets and sink ships between them.
Not here, though.
Not when Jayce had him pinned to the mattress, his pussy stretched lewdly on his cock, tiny, delicate waist fitting between Jayce’s hands. Every whine and moan and whimper fed something dark, something fervent and fanatical in him, desperate to wring out every single sound Viktor could possibly make, ensuring that every part of him was marked so thoroughly by Jayce that he’d be ruined for anyone else.
Jayce could listen to his cries like a prayer, if Viktor would let him, if Viktor would allow him to keep defiling his body like this, to give them both the intoxicating pleasure they both craved.
”A-ah…Oh, kurva, Jayce—”
Viktor let out another mewl as Jayce bit down, teeth digging into the vulnerable flesh of his neck. Stars danced in his vision as Viktor got tighter, wetter, as Jayce growled in warning in his ear. But Viktor could only cling to him, dragging his nails across Jayce’s skin, biting back with equal ferocity and equal hunger, tiny fangs piercing new holes in Jayce’s heart,
Marking him.
Bonding him back.
Valley,
Peak.
It hit him then: Everything. His—everything. Not for the first time, Jayce found himself completely overtaken with awe, with wonder, and with longing, his heart aching, pounding against the cage of his ribs as he fell apart in Viktor’s embrace.
“Viktor…Viktor…” growls and rumbles of his name devolved quickly to pitiful pleadings. His Viktor, his mate, his— hishishishishis—
“Jay—Jayce!”
Jayce held Viktor through his trembling orgasm, sobbing , and crashing down with tear-streaked cheeks and shuddering breaths. Slick sprayed between their bodies and Jayce felt his cock pulse painfully between his legs. Despite this, it wasn’t enough, it didn’t feel like it would ever be enough. Even when he was fucking into Viktor the very next moment until he was screaming.
This desperation was hard to name, hard to put into any form of intelligible thought, let alone scrutable speech. All it felt like was a fire in his blood and a marrow-deep longing in his bones that it threatened to break his chest open with every breath, with every wretched moment in his life that he wasn’t intimately connected with his Viktor, with his partner.
And Jayce knew this desire well, knew this need to devour his partner whole, take him apart in his arms, and ensure nothing of Viktor’s was left untouched, unmarked, until all of him was intertwined with Jayce.
He felt it when he had Viktor in his arms during that godforsaken Hunt, felt it when they were rendered weightless in their triumph, in their realization of Hextech’s reality, when Viktor had given him his rune and his life in the palm of his hand.
Dangerous, selfish, obsessive, and devoted love.
“ Jayce—” Viktor hiccupped, confused and likely dazed. The measured, fervent thrusts had quickly devolved to sloppy rutting, and now to mere desperate grinding of Jayce’s cock against Viktor’s sensitive walls.
He let out a gasp, feeling the base of Jayce’s cock grow fuller, stretching where he and Viktor were connected. Panic seized him for a fleeting moment; Viktor was still far too sensitive after cumming, pain edging out pleasure from the incessant way Jayce was determined to ruin his cunt like nothing else in this world mattered.
Had Viktor been able to form the words, unscramble his thoughts for a moment, he might have bleated for Jayce to finish outside, to pull out before Viktor was made to take his knot so suddenly, so viciously—
But the opportunity came and went with nothing more than a hiccup and a silent scream. Jayce's knot locked them together; the sudden stretch had Viktor keening deliriously, another orgasm torn from him, squirting with a scream ripped from his throat.
There was a very real possibility that Viktor might have lost consciousness. A few seconds of everything going dark before his senses were jumpstarted to the fuzzy agony of awareness.
“Viki,” Jayce whimpered, knot pushed impossibly deeper into Viktor that made the Beta (?) wail with overstimulation. “Viki,” he continued to breathe out, hardly apologetic, and far too self-satisfied for Viktor to not be annoyed at him.
The exhaustion (and Jayce) weighing him down rendered that indignation futile, however. Even Viktor found himself far too permissive of Jayce’s actions as the Alpha continued to bite along their bond mark. It was punishment, really. Viktor always bit off far more than he could chew. Flew far too close to the sun. Now he was crushed by over 100 kg of muscle and dangerous affection, desperately breeding his freshly violated cunt for the next 30 or so minutes.
And yet, Viktor couldn’t find himself upset at the turn of events, consequences be damned.
He asked for it, after all.