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Jayce’s smile doesn’t falter until he enters Viktor’s car.
The match went well. His team won once again thanks to him, and the room echoed with people shouting his name over and over again. His teammates were hugging him, lifting him up, and he was smiling, waving, blowing kisses — everything you’re supposed to do in his position. The adrenaline was pumping, making him feel like he was on top of the world.
And then came the drop.
It always surprises Jayce how hard it hits him, and today isn’t any different. As soon as he’s out of there, out of sight, his facades crumble, and his brain goes completely numb.
He used to only let it happen when he was alone, but with time, he learned that it was okay to do so around Viktor as well. Because Viktor understands him. As his best friend, he doesn’t comment on it, doesn’t ask, doesn’t tell Jayce to get himself together. He’s just there to take him home and help him rest.
Just as Jayce needs.
“Vanilla or strawberry?”
The sound of Viktor’s voice pulls his mind out of whatever state it’s been in. A confused look around tells him that they’re parked in front of Jayce’s favorite milkshake place.
“Um, strawberry,” he says and makes a mental note to let Viktor know how much he appreciates him.
He leans back against his seat, listening to the music Viktor put on, and none of them speaks for the rest of the ride.
Jayce manages to drag himself inside his apartment, and Viktor follows him as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. Of course he’ll stay over.
They watch a random movie while drinking their milkshakes, and when Jayce stretches his neck with a low groan, Viktor reaches for him.
“Are you sore?” he asks, slim fingers digging into Jayce’s muscles in a way that makes his eyes flutter shut. He doesn’t reply, not as far as he recalls, but when Viktor tugs at him to turn a bit, he complies. It feels amazing, Viktor’s hands on his shoulders. The long fingers up his neck. He should have probably showered before letting anyone touch him, but Viktor doesn’t seem to mind.
“It was a good game,” Viktor says, tilting Jayce’s head to the side only to let his skilled fingers run up his neck, along a tense muscle.
Viktor isn’t into sports at all, so his compliment means a lot.
“Thank you,” Jayce says and lets out a breath, easing some of the tension in his body.
The other side of his neck gets the same treatment, and after slipping his hand down between Jayce’s shoulder blades, Viktor lets go of him.
“Lie down.”
Jayce blinks, bleary eyes darting to Viktor.
“What?”
“Your legs.” Viktor patted his lap. “I bet those muscles are tense as well.”
It takes a moment for Jayce’s brain to catch up, and when it does, he’s too exhausted to think it through. He just does as Viktor tells him to. Gets comfortable with his head against the armrest, legs across Viktor’s lap.
A contented sigh breaks the silence when he feels Viktor’s fingers on his lower leg, running down his skin, and he starts working on the calf.
“Tell me if anything I do is uncomfortable,” he says.
Jayce manages to hum in reply and closes his eyes. This is just what he needs. Why Viktor is doing it, he’s not sure, because he has never been very touchy with Jayce. But he isn’t going to complain.
The silence stretches while Viktor works on the muscles until he speaks.
“You did great today.” Jayce is so exhausted, but a small smile shows on his face, to let Viktor know he heard. “I think it was one of your best games,” he continues. “Not only because of all the times you scored, but you were fast today. They didn’t stand a chance.”
Viktor’s words are soothing, like a warm blanket, making him feel at ease. Somehow Viktor always knows what to say. He always did, even before he knew Jayce very well. Sometimes it feels like he knows Jayce’s very core, better than Jayce himself. Jayce never had a friend like that.
“Feeling good?” Viktor checks in, and Jayce nods.
“Yeah.”
His hands go up to cup the knee, gently massaging each side of it, finding his way to each tense muscle as if he has spent his entire life doing so. As his fingers move higher, Jayce feels like he’s drifting off. In the distance, he still hears Viktor’s words about how well he handled the interview after the match, and how much the audience loved him. It’s like a quiet buzz of satisfaction running through his body, easing his mind and muscles. Only when he shifts and feels the friction fuel a completely different kind of pleasure, he opens his eyes.
His shorts are tenting ridiculously, the loose fabric hiding absolutely nothing. There’s no way Viktor hasn’t noticed. No way to hide.
Viktor seems to sense the panic and opens his mouth to speak, but Jayce speaks first.
“I’m so sorry!” He pulls at his shirt, trying to cover up the situation, but in vain. “Shit, I don’t know why, um— I swear it’s not like that, I’m sorry.”
Jayce wants to get up, but Viktor’s hands are still firm on his thigh, and it feels like he’s trying to— keep him in place?
“Jayce,” he says calmly, and it makes Jayce pause to look at him. “Don’t worry about it. It’s just your body reacting to my touch.”
Jayce exhales and nods. He knows it is, he wasn’t thinking about anything, but it’s still inappropriate because Viktor is his friend, and no matter how he touches Jayce he shouldn’t get a boner.
“I know, but I didn’t… mean to.” His mouth feels dry.
“It’s okay.”
Viktor continues to knead Jayce’s muscles, and Jayce is left very confused. Because it wasn’t like that before when he was far from reality inside his head. But now, seeing the boner and how close it is to Viktor’s hands, it feels different. And it’s inappropriate, he shouldn’t be thinking like this.
“Do you want me to stop?” Viktor’s words are gentle, a soothing finger rubbing his skin while he watches Jayce.
“I think I’m— uh—”
He’s not sure what to say because he’s not sure what he wants. Or maybe he knows what he wants but he’s not sure why.
“I can take care of that, too.”
He’s not sure what Viktor means until he feels his fingers slip higher on Jayce’s thigh, and just when they slip under the fabric of his shorts, Jayce’s brain turns on, and his hand darts down to stop Viktor’s from moving any further.
“I-I don’t know, Viktor—”
“Only if you want me to, of course.”
Viktor smiles at him but doesn’t press further. And while their hands are touching right there on Jayce’s thigh, his brain goes numb.
Is Viktor asking him if he can—
Oh God, it’s embarrassing how visibly his dick twitches at the thought alone. Jayce closes his eyes in an attempt to hide for a moment. He obviously wants to — when he started wanting Viktor to touch him, he’s not quite sure — but he shouldn’t. Should he? And he doesn’t want him to feel obliged in any way, just because Jayce’s body has a stupid reaction to the way Viktor is taking care of him. He doesn’t want anything to change but God those hands on him would feel incredible.
He swallows hard and speaks.
“You really don’t have to.”
“I don’t mind. I just want you to relax.”
It doesn’t feel like a conscious decision when his fingers slowly let go of Viktor’s hand, and he leans back. Viktor searches his face, clearly not sure if he’s accepting the offer, and with a knot in his stomach, a mixture of fear and excitement, Jayce gives a faint nod before he once again averts the eyes of his friend. He sees it out of the corner of his eye, though, when the hand inches closer, and feels it when those long fingers gently, but firmly, wrap around his length.
Maybe this wasn’t a wise decision, Jayce thinks as he bites down on his hand to stay quiet. Not that anyone asked it of him. It just feels like the thing to do when your best friend is about to jerk you off, and it’s not about pleasure, just a means to relax. Jayce doesn’t want to sound like he confuses one thing with the other.
Maybe he should tell Viktor to stop, he thinks, right as Viktor starts moving, and the thought melts away as quickly as it appeared. Because this isn’t something he wants to stop. Viktor’s hand on his dick, even separated by layers of fabric, is one of the best things he has ever felt. It’s like everything else with Viktor. Without asking, he knows exactly how Jayce likes it. He puts pressure in just the right place, something that took Jayce years to figure out himself.
He’s not sure if he should let Viktor know how good it feels, so he doesn’t. It’s better to keep quiet. Somehow he feels like confirming it with words will make it too real, too raw. He keeps quiet except for the whimpers that escape, and when the only thing his left hand finds to hold onto is Viktor’s sweater, he doesn’t even notice.
“Tell me if it doesn’t help you relax, and I’ll stop,” Viktor says.
And honestly, Jayce isn’t sure if he’ll describe himself as relaxed right now, but he knows he will be, and judging by the feeling in the pit of his stomach, it’s only a matter of minutes. He manages a small nod, a hum in response before his arm slips up to cover his eyes.
He isn’t sure what Viktor’s plans are. What he wants Jayce to do. If he wants more. But he can’t ask, because there’s no going back at this point, not for Jayce, anyway. Jayce will take what he’s offered, and then maybe, one day — but he shouldn’t even think of that — it will happen again, but it will be more, Viktor will want more from him, and maybe he’ll get to touch Viktor too—
Jayce thought he would have more time. That he would at least get to tell Viktor to stop, to take off his shorts, and prevent making a mess.
But it happens all of a sudden, and apparently, Viktor catches onto it and starts stroking just a bit faster. Jayce isn’t prepared. Not at all. He doesn’t even get the chance to cover his mouth before a moan escapes him and he coats the inside of his boxers. He keeps thrusting into Viktor’s hand, again and again, because Viktor keeps adding that pressure, until he falls back against the pillows with a shaky breath.
Then, the pleasure is replaced by shame.
“Shit,” he mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to make the world around him disappear. That or just himself. Because this definitely wasn’t supposed to happen. It’s sticky and it’s wet and friends shouldn’t be doing this—
“Jayce?” It’s the same as always. The thing Viktor’s voice does to him. It makes him pause, think. Focus. And only when he does he notices how fast his breathing has become, how his fingers are twitching. “You did well.”
He has no idea what Viktor even means. If he’s referring to the game or to… to this. But it doesn’t matter, because when Jayce finally forces himself to open his eyes, nothing has changed. Viktor’s golden eyes look at him in the same way they always did, and it’s all Jayce needs to know.
“I’m… I should shower.”
There’s a weird silence after Jayce sits up, where he’s suddenly way too close to Viktor, and he’s scrambling for something to say. But you don’t say thank you after an orgasm, do you? He’s about to spiral into some kind of panic once again when Viktor’s hand moves to his, and Jayce exhales all of his tension.
“I’ll make us something to eat,” Viktor tells him with a smile.
He knows that the only thing Viktor is able to cook is one of those pizzas from his freezer, but that’s not what he thinks about when he’s in the shower, rinsing away the evidence of what Viktor did to him minutes ago. He thinks about the gentle, reassuring squeeze Viktor gave his hand right before he let go, and how it seems to have changed the way Jayce sees him.