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Click, click. Jayce grumbles something unintelligible. Sheets of paper brush together as he slides one page of notes over another. Then another click - that’s the twelfth; Viktor has been counting. Which means, by his calculations, that Jayce’s spring-loaded ink pen is currently clicked closed, and that he’s once again looping through his notes without making any progress whatsoever.
It’s understandable. This ‘hextech’ theory is hardly intuitive. But then, magic is the antithesis of science, it only stands to reason that Viktor and Jayce, noted scientists, may have some difficulty wrangling it.
Scribbled notes fill every flat surface of Jayce’s destroyed workshop. Every inch of the chalkboard is covered in diagrams, proposed equations, and hurried annotations. And of course, they’re not even working with a full board, thanks to the explosion. Jayce has moved his workstation to the floor. Densely-marked parchment sheets fan out around him, mirroring the magic circle he intends to recreate. They will get there, eventually. Probably. But not while Jayce’s pen is closed.
“We’re not getting anywhere,” Viktor says as he shuts his notebook. The pages fall together with a soft slap. He isn’t ready to turn in for the night - far from it - but perhaps they need a break. A change of pace. Something to get the, er, ‘juices flowing’, as Jayce says.
Jayce shakes his head fervently. “We’re close to a breakthrough - I can feel it! We just need more time… We just need something to… to click.”
“You said the same thing two hours ago,” Viktor tuts. But as he casts his eyes down to Jayce, he sees the weariness in the other man’s eyes reflected in the lamplight.
Jayce Talis. Highborn, though his family is only in the middlings of Piltover aristocracy. He is unquestionably brilliant, but he is also unused to sleepless nights and empty stomachs. Besides, even the brightest mind might falter at the shock of summary expulsion before the council. Viktor may not be the most empathetic of people, but he can recognize when a gentle touch is needed.
“Tired minds are not good for complex computations.” Viktor says softly, “If you need to rest-”
“We don’t have time,” Jayce sighs.
Well, he is right about that. Metaphorically, they are ‘on the clock’. If they are to prove this hextech theory, they had better have something to show for it. Stabilizing the arcane crystal is only the first of many obstacles. If they can’t solve this conundrum, the theory is doomed entirely.
Jayce is clearly well aware of the stakes. Hextech is only his life’s work, after all. But Viktor has, perhaps foolishly, chosen his side as well. By assisting Jayce with his forbidden research, Viktor has in no way ingratiated himself with the council. Jayce had only weaseled out of exile thanks to Professor Heimerdinger’s sympathy and the weight of the Kiramman name. Viktor has one of those things, but his Zaunian heritage counts doubly against him. From the moment he stepped into the academy, he has felt highborn eyes on him all hours of the day, waiting for an excuse to cast him back down into the undercity.
So they push on.
“More tea?” Viktor offers. It’s about time they move to their third kettle of the night. A hot cup of tea does wonders for his aches, though the taste is an acquired one. That said, even the topside’s bottom-shelf tea is easy on the palate compared to undercity slag. Perhaps he simply has low standards.
“Sure.”
Viktor carefully extracts himself from his desk, paying mind not to accidentally shuffle his notes. Though, frankly, some haphazard shuffling might do them well. Viktor lifts himself up with his cane.
“Ah, wait, let me,” Jayce springs to his feet, upending some of his notes in his haste.
Viktor rolls his eyes. He shifts his weight, tilts his cane upwards, and gently pushes the tip into Jayce’s shoulder. “When I said I was a cripple, I did not mean I was an invalid. I can handle fetching a pot of water. Sit.”
“Sorry,” he flushes, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “I, um, didn’t mean to imply anything like that. This is my lab, so - well, it used to be-”
“It’s fine,” Viktor says, because as endearing as Jayce’s flustered expression is, he looks so terribly uncomfortable that he may actually explode like one of his arcane crystals. “I am only teasing you, Jayce. No offense taken.”
“Sorry,” he repeats, softer this time.
“Heh, if I need a strong, tall man to do strong, tall men things for me, rest assured that I will ask you. Until then, assume I am capable.” Viktor swings his cane back to the floor and turns away from the desk. “Go on, I expect a breakthrough by the time I return.”
“Ha, well, we’ll see,” Jayce grins and sits down again, brushing his notes back into place.
It’s hardly an expedition to ready another pot of tea. Viktor is no stranger to late-night library binges. Jayce has kindly provided a cobalt-steel teapot with intricate metalwork, though by Viktor’s assessment, he can’t have used it more than once before. Viktor supplies a burner from his own lab since it hasn’t been blown up. He supplies the tea, too, though it isn’t anything to write home about. Though, by his measure, Jayce is hardly a tea aficionado.
Viktor trudges down the hall to a vacant room where the water pipes remain in one piece. There are benefits to pushing the envelope of science, but perhaps there are also benefits to maintaining a safe, explosive-free lab environment. He turns the faucet, drawing filtered water into Jayce’s underloved teapot. It is a nice, practical teapot, though Viktor prefers his cheap, decade-old ceramic one. He idly shifts his weight from foot to cane, then back. It’s nice to walk and stretch his bones, but his mind finds no such respite.
As Viktor closes his eyes, Jayce’s runes swim under his eyelids. There is a pattern to it. A function, if such terms could be applied to magic. He simply can’t pin it down. Every time Viktor feels like his models are beginning to fit, the orb seems to change. Magic is a capricious thing. Perhaps Heimerdinger is right to brush it aside. But if it could help people - people like Jayce’s mom, people like him - then it is at least worth a few sleepless nights of study, no?
Viktor shuts off the faucet and returns to the study with a full teapot. He sets the teapot on his hot plate and waits for it to boil, all the while testing out runic patterns in his head. Something is off. Not just with the runes-
Viktor opens his eyes and catches Jayce staring at him. The other man immediately flicks his eyes back down towards his paper. Interesting. Viktor doesn’t think much of it, but he feels that olive gaze follow his motions as he packs loose tea into a mesh cradle and lets it steep. Jayce’s pen scratches idly at the parchment, but never for long.
He catches Jayce staring twice more before the tea is done. Viktor pours them each a cup and retreats to his desk. He half-heartedly tries a few more runic combinations before he gives up because Jayce being distracted by him is, itself, quite distracting.
“Do I have something on my face?” he asks nonchalantly. “Perhaps the answer to our conundrum?”
“Huh?” Jayce stirs from his little reverie.
“You’re staring.” He clears his throat. Viktor mulls over his next words, but the hour is late. His tongue is loose. “At my lips, specifically. You aren’t subtle.”
“What?” Jayce laughs awkwardly, clearly flustered. “I’m just, uh, you know-”
“So,” Viktor interrupts, “one would stand to reason that either I have something on my face, which would be terribly embarrassing, or that you have reason to be looking at my mouth, which would be-” he falters awkwardly, “-intriguing.”
Just like that, Jayce’s expression flips from embarrassed to captivated.
“Well...” he lets out a low whistle. “‘Intriguing’, huh? That’s better than ‘offputting’.”
Viktor sets his half-full teacup back on the desk. He stares down at Jayce’s notes. It’s not like he’s any good at keeping up the facade that he’s still focused on hextech, so he drops it. Screw it. Science requires risk, no?
“Please tell me if I am off base here, Jayce,” Viktor murmurs, “But I must theorize that you enjoy looking at me.”
“Yeah… well, you’re a lot to look at, Viktor.” He stares up from his circle of notes with that same, earnest expression he gets when he’s on the edge of a breakthrough. Then, all too soon, he turns away, face flushed. “It’s a bit distracting.”
So Jayce finds him… attractive? Viktor turns back to his tea as heat creeps up his neck. This was new. Viktor didn’t think himself ugly, but he simply wasn’t eligible for most topsiders. Certainly not for someone from a House - someone like Jayce Talis. His credentials only went so far in proving him worthy of Piltover’s attention. Most tolerated him but did their best to ignore his presence. Only Heimerdinger held no such prejudices about his origins.
“Well, I don’t want to ‘distract’ you,” Viktor says airily, like he doesn’t feel as if he’s been shocked with static at Jayce’s admission. Hextech comes first. It has to, with their merciless deadline. They can deal with all this later.
‘Or never’, Viktor thinks, based on their present lack of results and the likelihood of Jayce being exiled if they do not procure the aforementioned results.
“If this is not conducive to our research, perhaps-”
“We should just get it out of our systems?” Jayce blurts out.
Well.
Not what Viktor was going to suggest. But strangely, he doesn’t find himself opposed to the idea. Heat rolls through his gut at the very thought of Jayce ‘getting it out of his system’.
‘And into my system’, Viktor hopes. Terrible. Utterly terrible.
It’s an idiotic idea, of course. They have to work together to solve this conundrum. Jayce can’t focus now, but will Viktor be able to focus on their work after he’s had a taste of Jayce’s lips? Or perhaps they won’t click, and then it’ll be… strange between them. And that won’t help their focus a damn bit either.
But it’s still damn tempting.
“Sorry,” Jayce says, breaking the silence that Viktor forgot he left hanging. “You know what - forget I said that. Wow, that was out of line. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or-”
“What exactly would ‘working it out’ entail?” Viktor interrupts, curiosity getting the better of him. Because has a curious mind, after all, and because Jayce’s chest is too broad to be legal and now he is utterly distracted.
Jayce looks at him like he’s found the particular solution to their tangled stability equations. Which he hasn’t, of course, because he’s too busy fantasizing about Jayce, er, working with his tools.
“Well,” his eyes dart back to Viktor’s lips. “We could start by kissing.”
‘Start’, hm?
“You seem rather unsure of this theory,” Viktor says, cocking his head. “Are you sure this is going to help?”
“I mean, if you don’t want to-”
“I never said that.” Viktor shrugs. “What kind of scientists would we be if we neglected to test it?”
“Are you sure?” Jayce stares at him, eyes wide.
“Jayce,” he says calmly, “if this is something that you want, then I suggest you do not talk me out of it.”
“Okay,” he says, half to himself like he still can’t believe Viktor would actually agree. But really, has he seen himself? “Okay,” he says again, rising from his nest of notes.
“Is it okay?” Viktor quips. “I don’t believe you’ve made it clear enough.” He pushes himself up on his cane as Jayce walks over. Even with Viktor standing at his straightest, Jayce towers over him. He’s built like an enforcer, but his mind is unmistakably that of a scientist. Viktor has always accepted his physical weakness as the cost for a thriving mind, but seeing Jayce… He has to wonder if the man has any missing pieces at all.
“Sorry, just… Feels like a dream,” Jayce whispers, “Let me clarify.” As he closes the distance between them, any trepidation seems to vanish. And then Jayce kisses him.
It’s a breakthrough, if not the one they’re here for. Jayce is a mix of rough lips and gentle hands. It’s good, and then Jayce’s callused hand cradles his jaw, tilting, and it’s incredible. Viktor lets out a little gasp of surprise when Jayce crowds him against the desk, and he takes the opening. His tongue slides along Viktor’s lips, between his teeth - along his own tongue. The sheer volume of new stimuli has Viktor’s mind shorting out. He tastes like fire and Viktor’s mediocre tea, which has clearly found its best and highest use in Jayce’s mouth. Hardwood bites into Viktor’s palm as he clutches the desk, desperately holding himself up as his knees weaken.
Jayce’s hand splays across the small of his back, steadying him - or so he thinks. Distantly, Viktor registers the noise of his cane clattering to the ground as Jayce hefts him up onto the desk - he can’t be light, but Jayce lifts him like he’s nothing. Viktor grabs at his vest without thinking, clumsily pulling their lips back together. Jayce huffs out a little laugh as he follows Viktor’s amateur whims.
To be fair, this is not Viktor’s domain. Viktor is reserved. He is precise. He thinks and he plans and he does not act on impulse. Unless, apparently, a smart, pretty boy with nice arms enters the equation, because everything Viktor has done since he stumbled upon this destroyed workshop has been impulsive. Jayce kisses just like he does anything else - bold, passionate, and instinctive. Where Viktor falters, Jayce is perfectly in his element. Jayce’s hand clutches the nape of his neck, thumb pushing Viktor’s chin up as he presses burning kisses down the side of his throat.
“Jayce…” Viktor rasps, “Jayce.”
Silently, he curses whichever tailor had the bright idea to give their uniforms high collars and ties. Jayce groans as Viktor’s hand tightens in his hair. Viktor can’t even remember putting it there. He can’t remember throwing his arms around Jayce’s stupidly broad shoulders either, but he can feel Jayce’s firm muscles under his hands regardless. This Talis boy has Viktor losing his wits in a lot of ways, it seems.
“Is this okay?” Jayce asks breathlessly, slipping a tentative finger under the hem of his tunic. Viktor nods quickly - too quickly. He shrugs off his vest and fumbles with the knot of his tie. Maybe he looks too eager, but the promise of Jayce’s tool-hardened hands on his bare skin is, well, intriguing.
“Careful,” Jayce smirks, helping him out of his tie. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so…” he waves his hands in a frankly indecipherable gesture.
“So?”
“Reactive,” he settles on. There’s something to that, Viktor thinks. If he isn’t flushed crimson by now, it’s only because all the blood his body can muster is running south, and Jayce is fully to blame for that. Ridiculous man. Cool fingers slip under his shirt, rucking it up his chest. Viktor lets out a little huff.
“Are you calling me easy?” Viktor wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “If you wish, I can attempt to play ‘hard to get’, but I presumed it would be more efficient if we simply cut to the chase.”
He is somewhat… inexperienced in these matters, to say the least. What with his studies and his origins, he hadn’t had the time or opportunity to fool around. Perhaps he fed into that by making himself scarce. It was easier to stand in the shadows than to face Piltover’s awkward discomfort with him head-on. On the other hand, his reclusiveness had left him somewhat behind the learning curve on physical affection.
“That’s not what I -” Jayce blushes, “I mean, not that it’s even a bad thing if-”
“Jayce, if I may,” Viktor interrupts gently. “I believe your mouth would better used in other ways.”
That stops Jayce dead in his track, hazel eyes darkening. His hands tighten on Viktor’s sides, thumbs pressing into his too-lean body. He can’t be much to look at, much less to feel. He’s a gaunt, bony thing by Piltovian standards, and a posh sellout prude by Zaunian ones. But the way Jayce looks at him, he might as well be magic incarnate.
“Fucking hell, Viktor,” Jayce rumbles, tucking his lips just under Viktor’s ear. “How can you say shit like that with a straight face? You drive me crazy.” His hands climb higher, pushing his thin button-down up to his collar. Viktor wonders how he can resist ripping the damn thing off. Jayce slides down, swiping his tongue over Viktor’s exposed nipple. Viktor yelps and flails, sending his poor teacup clattering off the desk. For once, Viktor appreciates the metal set over his delicate clay.
“Ah, t-that’s-” Viktor stammers, “Kissing. I meant kissing. With your mouth.” His face is burning hot. He doesn’t mind this over kissing - not at all - they’re just rocketing into uncharted territory, and what if Viktor is overstepping, or-
“I want you in my mouth,” Jayce says, mortifyingly earnest. “Let me suck you off?”
See, he asks it like a question, but the way he continues his assault on Viktor’s chest, and the way he palms over Viktor’s clothed cock, and the way he presses his thigh between Viktor’s legs all render Viktor incapable of a forming a coherent response. He moans, fingers clenching in Jayce’s hair. It should probably be embarrassing how hard he is already if you measure the time Jayce has been touching him in mere minutes, but in Viktor’s defense, Jayce is strong and built and smart and good-hearted at his core. Somehow, all the reasons fucking your research partner might be a bad idea go out the window, and all Viktor can think is that if Jayce’s hands feel this good, his mouth must be a fucking revelation. If Viktor doesn’t hesitate nearly as much as he should, it’s all in the name of science.
“Please,” Viktor gasps.
And then Jayce Talis sinks to his knees for a crippled Zaunian assistant - for his partner His mouth latches onto Viktor’s hip as he flicks open the clasps on his slacks. His hand slips into Viktor’s undergarments, fishing out his cock.
“Fuck, you’re incredible, Viktor.” Jayce murmurs. His hand wraps around Viktor’s cock, stroking it gently, slowly. Viktor bites back a moan as Jayce drags his thumb over the head. He’s already leaking over the toolsmith’s fingers. Viktor slams his eyes shut so he doesn’t come right there and then.
“I am, in most respects, perfectly average,” Viktor whispers, voice tight.
Jayce chuckles. “No. Nothing about you is average, Viktor.” He pulls out Viktor’s cock, pressing a kiss to the tip. He slowly runs his tongue along the shaft, hot and wet.
“Actually, statistically-” Viktor starts, interrupted by a shattered moan as Jayce takes the head of his cock fully in his mouth. He curses, fingers scrabbling for the edges of the desk. Papers go flying, which Viktor distantly recognizes is probably a better fate than them being stained with… fluids. That would be difficult to present to the council.
Jayce takes him deeper, swallowing around him. What he lacks in finesse, he easily makes up for in eagerness. Viktor covers his mouth, muffling the breathy, unintelligible sounds Jayce pulls out of him. Somehow, it’s the thought of making a racket that makes Viktor draw a line. Not fucking an exiled colleague while procrastinating on a forbidden and dangerous research project in a workshop worth a hundred times more gold than all of Viktor’s material possessions put together. Eh, what can he say, he doesn’t like noise. Viktor’s hips jerk upwards as Jayce sucks him all the way down.
“S-shit, sorry,” Viktor moans. Jayce simply moves a hand to his thigh, pinning him down as he pulls back, working the tip of Viktor’s cock while he strokes the shaft.
“Don’t be,” he says, voice hoarse, “Love seeing you like this.”
Viktor tilts his head, curious. He’d ask, but he doesn’t trust his voice - trusts Jayce’s mouth even less.
“Y’know,” Jayce’s eyes rake over his body like frayed wires, leaving sparks in their wake. “All messed-up.”
Viktor doesn’t have a good retort for that, but as it turns out, he doesn’t need one. Jayce sinks back down on his cock, redoubling his efforts to take Viktor to pieces. It doesn’t take long, not with Jayce swirling his tongue over the tip, hazel eyes blown wide like Viktor is all he’s ever wanted. Pleasure races through his body all too quick - Viktor cries out some garbled mix of ‘Jayce’ and ‘yes’ and words not of the common tongue. He squirms against Jayce’s firm grasp, hips jerking as he comes.
“Viktor, Viktor,” Jayce rasps. Blue-white sparks swim through Viktor’s vision as he blinks down at Jayce.
“I believe that is my name…” he says, still dazed. “Frankly, I could be wrong.”
Jayce laughs, wiping his mouth on the inside of his sleeve.
“Did I break you?”
“Possibly,” Viktor smiles sleepily, “First your workshop and now this. When will your reign of terror end?”
Jayce rises from his knees, planting his hands on the desk around Viktor’s hips. Viktor slides his hand down Jayce’s chest, pausing over his slacks. He’s hard and straining against his pants. Maybe a wiser man would have hesitated, but Viktor can’t help himself. Jayce moans as he strokes his cock through the fabric.
“Can I touch you?” Viktor whispers. A bit late, he thinks.
“Yeah,” Jayce says, “If you want to - you don’t have to.”
“Do you think I would have asked if I didn’t want to?” Viktor chuckles, “Kind of cruel, don’t you think? If I left you like this?”
It’s an empty threat, of course. Viktor is nearly salivating at the thought of touching him skin to skin. He reaches inside Jayce’s slacks, easily taking his thick cock in his hand. He’s… endowed, to say the least. Long, too. Jayce’s cock is hot and dripping in his hand, and suddenly Viktor understands why Jayce wanted to get Viktor in his mouth so bad.
Maybe another time. Somewhere with pillows, or at least a rug for his bad leg. Viktor hums in approval as he wraps his hand around Jayce’s hard cock, stroking sinfully slow.
“Vik, please,” Jayce groans. He buries his face in the crook of Viktor’s neck, panting hot over his skin.
“Please what?” he teases.
“Need more,” he manages.
“You know, Jayce, I love seeing you like this too - desperate for me,” Viktor murmurs. He won’t make Jayce beg, but there’s a certain high to having so much power over big, strong Jayce Talis. For all his teasing, though, he wants to see Jayce come apart too. Viktor strokes Jayce rough and fast - he doesn’t have much experience with other men, but he figures it can’t be that different than getting himself off. Judging by Jayce’s reaction, he can’t be far off.
“Oh fuck, I’m gonna-” Jayce lets out a loud groan as he comes over his palm, shuddering into Viktor’s shoulder.
“Good.” Viktor strokes him through the aftershocks, letting him come down easy. “That’s good, Jayce.” He sucks in ragged breaths as he steadies himself. Viktor wipes his hand off on Jayce’s slacks (hey, the Kirammans can afford to dry-clean and press their whole wardrobes daily). Wobbly-legged, Jayce slumps down into Viktor’s chair. Viktor, displaced from his own desk (technically Jayce’s, he supposes) lays back on his elbows, looking down at the disheveled papers.
“So,” Viktor clears his throat, “Did that… ‘get it out of your system’?”
Jayce breaks into a bright laugh. Viktor can’t help but smile too. If they’re no closer to solving their conundrum, then hey, at least they’re both a bit more relaxed.
Viktor warms the tea back up and cleans the half-dried stain from the cup he tipped over. In no time at all, they’re back to their studies. Ridiculous as it is, Viktor finds himself more in tune with Jayce’s ideas now. They begin to finish each other’s thoughts, working together like a well-oiled machine. Still, the crystal is no easy puzzle to crack.
Viktor hums, eyeing the squiggled energy function evading them. “Any bright ideas, Jayce?”
“Actually…” Jayce stares at the chalkboard, inspiration sparking in his eyes. “I think I’ve got something! Viktor, show me those equations you’ve been working on. I think we’ve been thinking about this all wrong.
“How so?” he cocks a brow.
“Arcane crystals are locally-ordered, right? They’re stable at a ground state, but once you agitate them-”
“Boom,” Viktor nods, making an expanding gesture with his hands.
“But it’s not the crystals themselves that are volatile, it’s the expansion of differently-oriented grains that creates fracture initiation sites. The fissures are weak points.”
“How do you know all this?” Viktor shoots him a skeptical look. “We haven’t been able to examine a fractured crystal, thanks to - you know.” He makes the gesture again.
“Metals are the same way, actually,” Jayce shrugs, “At their base level, metals are crystals too, only with a much more stable energy state. And, uh, I’ve seen a lot of broken tools.”
“Go on.”
“Like I said, the crystals aren’t volatile. It’s the amplified energy. All we have to do is-”
Viktor’s eyes widen. “Get it out of their system. Genius.”
“Yeah, that.” Jayce meets his eyes, grinning like a mad scientist. He’s certainly a scientist, and the council seems to think him mad, so maybe he is one. And, well, that makes Viktor a mad scientist too.
“Hm. Not a bad theory,” Viktor says. “Let me see what I can do.”