Work Text:
Jayce knows he can be a little obsessive.
It’s pretty much a requirement of the job. If you take a look at anyone in their field —Viktor, Heimerdinger, Sky— you’ll find a vein of insanity running through them. A misaligned wire that keeps them up till dawn, rewriting an equation or tweaking a circuit so that the current hums through it like a melodious song.
They’re all kind of crazy here. It’s a fact that Jayce has long accepted. Except for the first time in a very long time, Jayce finds himself puzzled by his own fixation. Not with an unsolved equation or a piece of machinery (which would just be a normal Tuesday) but with a person.
For the umpteenth time, his eyes flicker to the man working beside him at the lab table.
Viktor looks the same as he always does. Hair wild under his soldering goggles. Forehead scrunched up in concentration. Teeth dug into his bottom lip. Jayce can tell he spent the night in the lab judging from the bags under his eyes and his clothes which are severely rumpled. That’s all to say, he looks like a madman and Jayce has never wanted to kiss a person more.
A few stray sparks fly from his hands before he sighs, scooting back in his chair and putting his tool down.
“What is it?”
“Hm?”
“You keep staring at me,” Viktor pushes his goggles up onto his forehead, “What is it? Do I have something on my face?”
“Oh… was I? Er–”
Viktor has lots of things on his face— two eyes, a nose, a beauty mark on his cheek that Jayce sometimes thinks about licking— but probably, Jayce reasons, he should keep that to himself.
“I… Um. Yes. Right–” Jayce stutters, “I… I wanted to ask you something!”
“I’m listening.”
Shit. Jayce hadn’t thought that far yet.
He scrambles for a plausible question. Something that isn’t “hey, remember when we were sneaking into the lab and you were like ‘wait this isn’t my bedroom’? What did you mean by that, and also why haven’t you actually taken me there?” and eventually comes up with,
“Are you gonna go to the faculty-student mixer next week?”
Which Viktor responds to with a heavy look that seems to imply that Jayce is acting incredibly slow today.
“I wasn’t planning on it.”
“Right… right. Cool.”
Viktor nods as if deeming the conversation settled, and slides the goggles back down to resume his soldering. This is fine, thinks Jayce. He can do this. He can be normal.
But when it comes to Viktor, Jayce can’t ever seem to keep his cool. Not one iota of it.
“Well, I was thinking I might go!”
It bursts out of him too quickly, words strung together, “and if you wanted to go too we could, like … um… go with each other? I mean. It’d be a good opportunity to talk about our research! And we could like… do stuff. Together. You know. Hang out…”
Viktor turns to look at him all slow like a machine powering down and Jayce wishes he could punch himself in the face because –really, Jayce– Do stuff?
“Jayce,” his accent curls around the word with a gentle husk that sends shivers down his neck, “We hang out all the time.”
“Oh. Yeah, right. Of course, I just meant… you know. Outside the lab… that could be nice for a change.”
Viktor seems stunned into silence, mouth partially open, eyes hidden from view under his goggles. It’s ridiculously endearing and if Jayce were a braver man he’d pluck them from his head, sweep aside his flyaways and tell him something romantic and debonair like
‘looking at you makes me feel insane,’ or ‘when I’m next to you I simultaneously want to curl up together and nap for a year and also run three laps around the circumference of the planet’ or ‘one time when you were leaning in to tell me something, for a second I thought you were going to kiss me and my heart almost stopped.’
But instead what happens is a loose scrap of paper catches fire under Viktor’s still-sparking solder.
He doesn’t seem to notice this even as a few more nearby sheets start smoking as well.
“Um. Viktor?”
“Oh,” he finally looks down, seeming only vaguely alarmed by the growing ball of flame.
“Sorry,” he waves away a stray wisp of smoke, “I should probably deal with this.”
“Right, yeah…” Jayce replies weakly. Only Viktor would find the entire lab going up in flames to be an annoying but ultimately minor inconvenience.
Viktor grabs the heat-resistant blanket and smothers the fire with the cold efficiency of a serial killer (which definitely does absolutely nothing for him because that would be extremely weird if it did).
When he resumes his soldering, it’s amidst a pile of ashes and any conversation gets extinguished along with the flame.
Well, thinks Jayce. At least he tried.
—
Contrary to currently available evidence, Jayce has always been good with people.
You’d never guess it from the way he starts and sputters around Viktor like a leaky engine, but for the most part, Jayce is largely regarded as an affable person, a conversational asset, and –for lack of a better term– a popular well-liked guy.
He’s the person you never mind talking to at a party and he’s reminded that he’s not completely hopeless when, a week later, a pretty researcher offers up her number out of nowhere at the mixer.
“Oh. Um. Thank you?”
She sighs, flipping a blonde lock over her shoulder and putting her hands on her hips.
“You’re not actually going to call me, are you?”
Jayce thinks of several ways to let her down gently. But in the end, he settles for the truth.
“Probably not,” he hands the slip back to her, “you seem very nice, really. But I—“
“I know you’re trying to help,” she takes the slip from him, “but just stop before you injure my pride any further.”
“I… “ Jayce flounders, “sorry.”
She stares at him for a few contemplative seconds. She really is very pretty. Sleek-haired and sharp-eyed and probably quite smart too. In another more normal life, Jayce would be thrilled to go out with her.
But Jayce hasn’t been normal, not for a long time. Not since meeting a particular person.
“Whatever,” she crumples the phone number into her pocket, “always swing for the fences, am I right?”
He’s still trying to figure out what that means when she walks away leaving Jayce standing alone under the chandelier.
Okay… that was weird.
Nothing to do but drink about it, he guesses. He turns to grab a random glass of champagne off a nearby waiter's tray but nearly barrels into someone in the process.
“V-Viktor!”
He instinctively grabs the man’s shoulder, steadying him and making sure he has good balance on his crutch.
He’s wearing what appears to be a freshly laundered uniform and if Jayce didn’t know any better he’d say the man’s hair almost looks like it’s been combed. It makes him look nice –like… really nice— and Jayce snatches his hand back, heart beating too fast and face warming.
“I… I didn’t see you… When did you…? W-Why are you here?”
Viktor gives him an arch look.
“Yes. You seemed rather preoccupied.” For some reason, there’s a steely undertone to the words, “I thought I might stop by after all. ‘Hang out’.”
“Oh… oh right. Yes! Cool!”
He resists the urge to cringe; Jayce really really hates himself sometimes.
Jayce downs his champagne in one gulp and for a while it’s painfully awkward until Heimerdinger walks up to them, breaking the weird spell between them by asking how their work is going.
The strange moment falls away and for a few blissful seconds, Jayce gets to watch Viktor’s eyes light up in excitement as he describes the new energy fields they discovered this week. He’s captivating like this, rambling about their work and saying endearing things like ‘pioneers in the field’ and ‘ground-breaking’ and ‘us’ and ‘we’.
Then, there’s a lull in the conversation and Jayce realizes Viktor’s eyes are on him, prompting.
“Isn’t that right, Jayce?”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
He doesn’t even know what he’s responding to, only that he’d agree to anything if it means Viktor will keep looking at him like that.
Eventually, Heimerdinger scurries away, murmuring something about how the poros need to be fed. One can’t help but be charmed by his eccentricity and Jayce and Viktor give each other a companionable look over his retreating figure.
The party has gotten looser now, drinks flowing freely, and there are even a few awkward engineers attempting to dance on the floor. It’s a pocket of warmth, hazy and crowded, and not at all their scene.
“Wanna get out of here?” says Viktor after a while.
“God, yes.” Jayce breathes.
Of course, they end up back at the lab. There’s a side room with a couch where they sometimes take naps when they're too tired to go back to the dorms. Viktor sits first and Jayce settles into the worn fabric soon after, body buzzing pleasantly with molten warmth.
It was nice to get away for a bit but at the end of the day, this will always be their spot. The place where they combine in perfect synergy. A single mind working and reworking the world.
It defies explanation. Not that he would even try. Jayce is a scientist through and through but he can recognize magic when he sees it.
“That was fun,” he says, strangely dizzy, “the party.”
“Hm,” Viktor pulls something from his jacket pocket, a slim fifth of liquor nicked straight from the faculty bar. He shakes it meaningfully, brow raised.
“Who says it has to be over?”
His heartbeat quickens. Jayce watches Viktor dig out two glasses from the cupboard and has to concentrate very hard on not doing anything stupid.
The sound of Viktor’s glass against his makes a chiming ‘ting’ noise.
“To progress,” he says, raising his drink.
“To progress,” Jayce echoes.
The liquor burns its way down his throat, leaving behind a trail of lingering fire. It’s like eating a beam of sunlight and he feels malleable as clay. Pliant and uninhibited.
“I’ll miss this,” he says out of nowhere.
“Sorry?”
“Er, rather–” he backtracks, “I just meant. Our work. Everything that used to be just an echo of a wish. Except now it doesn't feel so far away… we’re so close to making it a reality. I know it, Viktor. I can feel it.”
Something in Viktor’s gaze softens. “Yes. I feel it too.”
It sends a warm glow spilling through his gut, and he has to swallow twice, or else he’ll blurt out something ridiculous.
“I want it to be reality. I want to see all our dreams come true,” he continues, “But also I think I’ll miss this too. Working towards a goal with nothing to lose and everything to gain. Running towards something in the distance to–”
Together. he nearly says, but doesn’t. Stopping himself at the last second.
“Ugh,” he groans instead, “I’m... I’m not making any sense, am I?”
“You’re not,” replies Viktor, amusement dancing in his features, “But I think I get what you mean anyway.”
Of course, you do, thinks Jayce. Viktor’s just brilliant like that and no one gets him quite like he does.
“I’m glad we met,” the other man declares out of nowhere, “For the work, I mean.”
Right, thinks Jayce, resigned. The work.
But there’s a strange glimmer in Viktor’s eyes when he says, “You’ve helped me more than you can imagine.”
Suddenly, it’s impossible to ignore how close they are.
Jayce could shift his knee and it’d be pressed to Viktor’s thigh. His finger is just an inch away from Viktor’s shoulder on the couch back. Just an inch. Such a tiny yet maddening distance.
A stray thought pricks at the corner of Jayce’s mind. Something about swinging and fences. And in the end, perhaps it’s the liquor that gives him courage.
“I’d always help you,” he says, swallowing his heartbeat, “I would do anything for you.”
Viktor shifts, propping his head onto his hand. His lids are hooded, eyes hazy, and mouth vividly pink; he licks the lingering wetness from his bottom lip and it’s enough to drive a grown man to tears.
“Anything?” he drawls.
“Yes,” Jayce breathes, “Whatever you want.” Mind, body, and soul. Everything he can give.
“Well,” Viktor murmurs, something smoldering in his gaze, “there is something. Something that I wanted.”
“What?” Jayce sits up, suddenly brimming with urgency. “What is it?”
“Well—“ Viktor toys with his empty glass, eyes averted and Jayce hopes he’s not imagining the way his breath comes out quicker or his face seems to flush.
“I…I wanted to ask you—“
This is it. The moment that Jayce has been waiting for. He’s already imagining the silky feel of Viktor’s hair between his fingers. The flutter of his lashes. The warmth of his breath, the wet condensation of it against his lips when he–
“Would you be able to take over my office hours this week?”
…
Wait… what?
All at once, the air rushes out of him. He feels like a wrecked zephyr. Deflated and limp.
“Your…” he mumbles weakly, “office… hours?”
Viktor nods vigorously, completely oblivious to his sinking mood.
“I'm so close to a breakthrough with the hex runes. If I step away now it might put me back by weeks. I know it's a lot to ask… but would you be able to? For me?”
By now his pleasant buzz has faded to an uncomfortable hangover. His limbs, which were floating and warm, feel dull and heavy as lead.
He wants nothing more than to crawl into a hole and lick his wounds but he can’t. The way Viktor is looking at him –full of hope and expectation– keeps him firmly rooted to his spot.
He looks down at his feet and for a second he swears he sees something on the floor. The shattered fragments of his heart.
“Jayce?”
He blinks and the image fades. Useless dramatics. If nothing else, Jayce is a man of his word.
“Of course,” he looks up, smiling. “Anything for you.”
—
It must be because he’s ugly, Jayce decides a few days later.
He knows they get on well; you’d have to in order to spend every waking moment with someone. So, he reasons, if the issue isn’t his personality, then it must be his looks.
Sitting in the library gives him a lot of time to mull it over (perhaps too much) and the more he thinks about it, the more undeniable it feels.
His looks just aren’t up to snuff. Which is an especially bitter pill to swallow given he’s always been told that he’s ‘easy on the eyes’.
“Am I attractive?” he suddenly blurts out to the lone student who’s decided to attend his office hours.
“Er, what?” the girl squeaks, eyes widening.
“Me. Am I an attractive person? Just. You know. Objectively speaking.”
“I feel very uncomfortable right now,” she answers solemnly. “Also I don’t swing that way.”
Alright. He’ll take that as a solid ‘no’ then.
Jayce must make a miserable expression because then her tone becomes pitying.
“Well,” she offers, “at least you’re… tall?”
Exceedingly unhelpful.
“Thanks, I guess,” he sighs, handing back her assignment, “Also this looks correct to me.”
She snatches it back as if Jayce was keeping it hostage.
“Thank god,” she mutters before running out the door.
Lacking anything to do, Jayce thinks. And thinks.
It burns a hole through his skill, taunting him and tearing him to shreds until he decides —you know what, fuck it.
Better to just confront the issue directly.
That’s how he ends up standing outside the closed door of Viktor’s dorm room, fist frozen over the wood grain as he listens to the muffled noise coming from within.
He takes a deep breath, overrun with nerves and feeling absolutely ridiculous for it.
This isn’t a big deal. They’re both intelligent grown men who are perfectly capable of having a civil conversation about this weird thing brewing between them.
Jayce can do this. He can. He’s a functioning person who can communicate things with words.
Except all that bravado immediately falls to the wayside when he knocks on the door and it opens to reveal Viktor standing there dressed only in a simple undershirt and sleep clothes, mouth opened partway in soft surprise.
“Jayce?”
“Do you think I’m ugly?”
“What?” The man’s mouth drops open, “I… Come again?”
“I’m sorry. That was so stupid. I’m not… I just. I find you very attractive and it occurred to me that you might not feel the same way. In fact, maybe all this time you’ve found me horribly off-putting in which case I’m sorry you had to–”
“Um, Jayce.” Viktor opens the door wider, “Maybe you want to come inside first?”
His exhale puffs stupidly from his lips. He is now very aware of the stray students poking their heads out their doors to stare at the raving lunatic in the hall.
“Yeah ok…” he trails off listlessly, “Inside is… inside is good.”
Viktor’s room is bigger than his with its own bathroom. Probably, thinks Jayce, because he’s technically older and more tenured, and also on account of his leg.
Viktor sits on the bed, hooking his crutch against the side table. He crosses his arms and Jayce shifts from foot to foot, suddenly hyper-aware that it’s his first time seeing the other man’s room.
“I, um. Like what you’ve done with the place?”
“Jayce.” Viktor raises one brow, “What’s going on?”
“Oh you know,” he laughs weakly, mind unraveling, “not much…”
“Uh huh,” Viktor intones, “So what’s this about you being ugly.”
In hindsight, he’s very embarrassed about his reaction; how ridiculously overblown it is. If his mental state wasn’t in complete shambles and he had a single drop of sanity remaining he would have blamed his outburst on ‘too much caffeine’ or ‘excessive stress’ but instead he just crumbles at the words, hands curling into fists and head hanging low.
“I knew it. You think I’m hideous.”
“I… what?” A short huff. “Jayce, I didn’t say that.”
“Except you literally just did.”
“I didn’t mean… I was only asking –oh would you stop staring at your feet and just look at me already.”
Jayce's head snaps up. He can’t help it. (Like really, not at all.)
Viktor assesses his response. Something simmering in his eyes as he considers him and just says, “Hm.”
Yeah, this was definitely a mistake. Jayce needs to leave, like, right now. Really, he shouldn’t have even come in the first place.
“Okay, anyway, sorry for bothering you. And wow. Would you look at the time, I should really get go–”
“Come here.”
Ok yep. Still can’t help it. Jayce goes.
He’s not exactly sure what he means by ‘here’ so he just stands awkwardly in front of the man’s knees until Viktor says “sit,” and lacking any clearer instructions he sits beside him on the bed.
Viktor’s gaze feels heavy on the side of his face, but for some reason can’t bring himself to look.
“Jayce,” He speaks slowly as if trying to approach a frightened animal, “Why are you asking me if I think you’re ugly?”
“Because,” he swallows, “It would… allow me to adjust my expectations? I guess?”
“And why, pray tell, would that be contingent on what I think about your looks?”
“Um. Well, I just. I just think that… er, that is– if you thought that I was— or rather if there was any chance that we could–”
“Jayce–” Suddenly there’s a hand on his shoulder, “In plain english. Please.”
He blames the physical contact for the way his mind flies apart. Lacking restraint, his words rush out all at once.
“I want you, Viktor. Badly. Ever since that night of the trial. Or maybe even before that. I don’t know. Is that possible? Is it possible to want something before you even knew it existed? Except it doesn’t matter because you think I’m ugly–”
“Jayce.”
“ –Which is fine. Totally fine. I would never want to impose any pressure or make you feel uncomfortable–”
“Jayce.”
“...In any way, shape, or form I just thought that maybe–”
“Jayce.”
Viktor grabs his chin, forcing him to look at his face and preventing him from saying anything else besides a muffled, “Hrmph?”
His eyes look… different. Dark and unspooled and nothing like the calculated gaze he normally wears.
“Listen to me very carefully,” says Viktor, enunciating every syllable, “I don’t think you’re ugly. In fact, very much the opposite.”
“Oh…” Jayce huffs out through the other man’s fingers, body going limp. “Are… are you sure?”
“Yes.”
He lets go of Jayce’s chin, and instantly, he kind of misses it. And only then does it hit him. The full extent of Viktor’s words.
“So you… you think I’m…”
“Jayce. Please.” His accent is thicker now. A husky growl that sends something hot pulsing through his veins.
“It’s obvious to anyone with working eyes that you’re very attractive,” his gaze turns molten, “Also you know you have like one million ab muscles right?”
“I’m… ugh,” Jayce swallows, “I’m not sure that’s biologically possible.”
Viktor mutters something under his breath, something that sort of sounds like, “my point, exactly.”
And Jayce just sits there, hands folded into his lap and staring at his knees, unable to make sense of all these feelings rushing inside of him. Struck and dazed, it takes him a while to realize that Viktor has been speaking to him.
“Sorry, what was that?”
“I said, are you just going to sit there all night?”
“Oh!” Jayce jumps up, “Sorry, it’s… it’s late, isn’t it? Well, thank you very much for this. It was. Ugh. Enlightening! Yes, very enlightening, so now I’ll just–”
“Jayce.” The look Viktor gives him can only be described as murderous. “Would you stop talking and just kiss me already?”
“I… oh. Oh. You want me to–”
Viktor lets out a strangled noise.
But before Jayce can apologize for whatever offensive thing he’s done, he’s being dragged by the shirtfront down onto Viktor’s bed and–
Oh… wow.
The thing is, Jayce had rehearsed for rejection. Anything from looks of pity to derision and even outright disgust.
But in all his preparation he hadn't accounted for this.
He hadn’t accounted for Viktor’s lips, so impossibly soft against his, or his hands fisting into the short strands at the base of his neck, or the rigid press of his body, vibrating under him like a propulsion engine humming to life. Like all things about the other man, the feeling defies expectation. It’s so…
Again. Wow.
Viktor makes a noise against his lips. A cross between a groan and a curse. It’s an addictive noise and Jayce can’t help tilting the man’s head by the neck to chase it deeper. He opens the kiss, making it sloppy and wet, and when Viktor’s tongue touches his, it feels like something inside him is exploding in a shower of sparks.
He feels like he’s melting. Like any second he’ll spill onto the floor and evaporate into thin air.
Except he can’t let himself do that.
If there was ever a moment to be corporeal, it’s right now with Viktor's arms curled around his neck, breath puffing humid between them, and the delicious press of something hard against his thigh.
“Viktor,” he licks his lips, “Respectfully. I need to touch you. Like, right fucking now.”
This draws a breathless laugh from the other man.
“You can be disrespectful about it too, if you want.”
Noted. Extremely noted.
Jayce strips Viktor of his pants and flings them away with more force than strictly necessary. He’s awarded with the sight of his erection, so eager it nearly slaps him in the face when freed from his undergarments.
It’s a strange reminder of something too good to be true. Reciprocity. The realization that Viktor wants this too.
“Jayce,” The man shifts under his gaze, moving his hand up his sternum, over the buckles of his brace, before stopping to swipe lazily over his own chest.
Jayce swallows, watching with rapt attention as the nubs peak and redden under his idle plucking.
“Hm,” he sighs, lashes fluttering.
“Viktor,” he croaks, suddenly feeling as if he’s burning in the flames of hell, “wait for me.”
Viktor cracks one eye open. Daring. “Then hurry up.”
Any notion of taking his time flies out the window. Jayce strips, kicking away his clothes as if they’ve personally offended him. Through it all, Viktor watches him with dark eyes.
He moves to undo the brace, but yelps when Viktor slaps his hand away.
“Hey—“
“Next time,” he says, making quick work of the complicated buckles, “I'll show you how next time.”
Next time. Jayce nods, speechless. He likes the sound of that. He likes it a lot.
And then Viktor is finally naked beneath him. A patchwork of red imprints and flushed skin, and dark hair splayed behind him in a silken puddle. He’s so gorgeous it hurts.
“Viktor,” Jayce sighs, “your body is unreal.”
Viktor’s eyes sweep from Jayce’s face down to his bare chest, before dropping down to the hard ridge of his straining erection. His gaze flicks upward and then he licks his lips, pupils blown.
“Mm,” he rumbles, “It’s like you read my mind.”
Jayce feels it like fire. He puts his hand around his jerking cock, steadying it like one might a rearing horse. It’s embarrassing how close he is. So stupidly on edge from nothing at all.
A bead of precome forms at his tip and Viktor watches it with a quiet aura of smug satisfaction.
“You know. I didn’t think you had any interest in this,” he huffs.
“What?”
No interest?
He takes in the pale sprawl of Viktor’s limbs; his pinkened nipples and quivering pulse. It is, quite possibly, the most interesting thing in the entire history of the universe. How could Jayce not be interested in this?
“I’ve seen you turn down girls. Lots of them. A whole lot of boys, too.” Viktor smiles, wry. “I thought it was an abstinence thing.”
“That…” Jayce shakes his head, still stunned, “that could not be more untrue.”
“Yes. A grave miscalculation on my part,” Viktor lays back into the sheets, eyes hooded and hot, “Otherwise I would have blown you under the lab table ages ago.”
It’s like a kick straight to the gut.
“O-oh,” Jayce coughs, dick jerking in his hands and drooling into the sheets. “Th-that’s… okay. Good to know.”
From there, it’s a mad dash not to come before he actually gets inside the other man.
He does quick work slicking his fingers with oil that’s magically procured from the bedside, watching in half-wonder half-anguish as they disappear inside of Viktor with obscene wet noises.
So mesmerized by it, it takes him a while to notice someone slapping him on the shoulder blades.
“O-okay, I’m ready… I’m ready,” Viktor hisses, “do it, Jayce. Do it now.”
Jayce would really rather stretch him to four fingers, but he’s using that voice again. The one that’s growly and low and goes straight to his dick.
“V-Viktor,” he basically whimpers, lining himself with shaking hands, “Tell me if it hurts, okay?”
And suddenly, Viktor’s fingers are grabbing his face, digging in so hard it feels like they’ll bruise.
“Don’t be gentle.” There’s a deep hunger in his gaze, “I want to feel it in my throat.”
Which… just… yeah.
Jayce’s brain short-circuits. A senseless noise tears from his lips as he fists his hands into the sheets and thrusts.
The first breach leaves both of them mewling. A shivering sensation of way-too-much.
It’s not even all in –Viktor’s just barely held open on the fat head of his tip– and yet Jayce feels like if he goes any further he might die.
“Viktor–” he begs, overwhelmed.
Viktor’s eyes slit open, glazed over, and slick with desire.
“M-move, Jayce,” he quivers, “fucking move.”
His body shoves forward before his mind gives its permission. He closes his eyes, unable to bear it as his hips pump inward, deep and hard. When he opens them again, Viktor seems stunned into silence. There’s a dazed expression on his face, head thrown back in a silent scream.
Encased in Viktor’s thighs, he can see all too clearly how he’s shoved up inside him, balls deep and way too big against Viktor’s tiny twitching entrance.
“Viktor,” he gasps, “are.. are you—“
“Oh,” Viktor sighs, lashes fluttering open, “that’s so good, Jayce. Just like that. So good.”
Oh god.
Like a man possessed, he pulls out halfway before pounding in again. This time, Viktor actually does scream, legs clamping around him, spurring him into a brutal jerking rhythm.
Good. Viktor thinks he’s good.
The feeling sits inside him, glowing like a hot coal. He feels like a comet entering the atmosphere. As if at any moment he might disintegrate into crispy bits and showering sparks.
Viktor’s breath hitches, moans getting louder and more high-pitched. As he does, he seems to squeeze down harder, wet walls clinging to him, so tight and demanding.
Lost within the pulsing heat, it’s impossible to hold on. He feels his climax swelling at his core and beside it, a frantic sort of dread begins to grow. He moans helplessly, trying to unhook himself from Viktor’s arms.
“Viktor, Viktor,” he quakes, “I–I'm sorry I need to… I can’t wait anymore or I'm gonna–”
Finally, he manages to pull out halfway, whining at the sensation of the cool air hitting his too-hot engorged flesh. The beginning of his orgasm rumbles through him, his tip just barely sliding out when suddenly, Viktor grabs him by the hips and all but shoves him back inside.
“Inside, Jayce.” He hisses, eyes blazing. “I want it inside. All of it.”
In Jayce's defense, he tried. He really really tried
His climax crashes through him, obliterating everything so completely that Jayce can’t do anything but drop his head onto Viktor’s chest and shake with it.
Afterward, Viktor must come too, because he clamps down mercilessly on his still-pulsing cock. His thighs spasm around him, digging into Jayce’s back urging him deeper even though he feels sensitive and raw. So overwhelmed, it takes everything not to keel over and weep. He can only squeeze his eyes shut, biting down on his lip and praying as he rides out the waves.
He could die like this, and he almost thinks he does.
It feels like a lot of time passes before he can gather enough brain cells to unstick himself from Viktor’s front, and sit back shakily onto his haunches.
Viktor looks a mess, eyes bleary and wet. There’s a glistening smear on his stomach, a puddle pooling under his still-twitching tip, and a slow trickle of white leaking from between his cheeks.
It’s… it’s a lot.
And Jayce has to swallow hard and look away or else he’ll do something extremely foolish and ill-advised.
“Where are you going,” croaks Viktor when Jayce tries to move from the bed.
He gestures to the bathroom. “I’m… ugh. We should—” his eyes sweep over Viktor’s skin, blushing furiously, “We should probably clean you up.”
Still shaky, Viktor comes up onto his forearms, blinking slowly.
“Why?” His lashes flutter, head tilting in a way that almost makes him look innocent. “What’s the point when we’re just going to get dirty again?”
“Oh..” he breathes, suddenly feeling faint, “we are?”
“Jayce,” There’s something wicked in his expression, “We’ve lost enough time as it is. We’re far from finished. Very far. So be a good boy and get back inside me.”
Ah, thinks Jayce, there goes his heart. It jolts out of his ribcage, skidding out into a tailspin before erupting into a pillar of flame.
There’s a manic gleam in Viktor’s eyes now. The look of an addict tasting the sweetest of highs.
The realization sends something shivering through him. The realization that maybe while Jayce was obsessing over Viktor that maybe (just maybe), Viktor was obsessing over him a little bit too.
“Jayce.” Viktor arches a brow, impatient. “Is that a problem?”
Very much the opposite.
“Nope,” says Jayce, crawling back into bed.
“No problem at all.”