The Striking Before and the Inevitable After

by SchrodingersGender

Summary:

Jayce has desperately searched for his sense of aliveness, one that has been carved out of him for seven years. He unexpectedly stumbles into it the moment Viktor comes back into his life due to a scientific competition.

And that pisses him off. A lot.

Bring on the lab-wars.

Notes:

• Inspired by Coming Home (But Not to You) by queercatfan

jayvik got me in an endless brainrot, so perhaps theres some mischaracterizations, holes in the plot, poor writing, bruv idk you get the gist, you've been warned. also english is not my first language so if you see something that didnt make any sense -- no you didnt

this might be a loooooooong one yall

also what inspired me to write (after literally years of not doing so:)) was coming home(but not to you) by queercaftan. You might see some resemblances, totally recommend checking their fic if you havent yet

Chapter 1: Ah. There you are.

Notes:

TW IN ENDNOTES

Jayce hadn't felt time stop in over seven years. 

 

That’s not to say he used to feel it often before, not at all. In fact, it was quite the rare occasion when he experienced the thrill. The one resembling a hand enclosing his windpipe, while another gripped his heart. That sensation of staring down the barrel of a gun, of fearlessly tiptoeing the ledge of an open roof. It was a crossroads where one choice led to everything, while the other led to nothing at all. 

 

That tingling limbo of possibility always turned his soul alight.

 

Jayce had made an astronomical effort to experience that beautiful sense of adrenaline, at least for one last time. Most of his memories associated with it were directly correlated with his work; innovation was his life's passion. He thrived on surpassing people's expectations, on continuously proving himself to be essential whenever the topic of progress was being discussed.

 

Even if the way to accomplish that lately had been through his public appearances and social engagements.

 

For the sake of scientific curiosity, he had also perused different approaches regarding this ‘time-stopping’ phenomena he was so hellbent on reliving. He'd gotten into physical altercations outside of shady bars, tried different hobbies he would have never considered before such as skydiving (not a big fan) or wrestling (Vi humbled him every time)– even indulged in some depraved sexual experiences in an attempt to spark something. Anything.  

 

Yet, the more Jayce tried to pursue it, terrified to forget it, the more this nameless feeling scurried away. 

 

Eventually, he learned the hard way that forcing himself into compromising situations wasn’t exactly a cocktail for success. Putting his health in jeopardy or breaking the law was no major thrill, it was just plain stupid. 

 

And after a while, Jayce got tired of lusting after a ghostly feeling. So he refocused his attention on the one thing that came closest: work. 

 

Which is why when Jayce got a mysteriously cryptic and exclusive invitation to a convention at the Piltover Academy of Science, he didn't think twice. 

 

After signing the compulsory NDA at the door, he took a tour around the room, shaking hands, making small talk. He couldn't help but notice he was surrounded by some of the most brilliant minds in Shurima, Valoran and Runaterra combined. At least those with the research and inventions to show for it. 

 

Head of Innovation and Dean of the Academy, Dr. Heimerdinger, stood on stage behind a podium once everyone had taken their respective seats. He was a short man, round, with a luscious ginger mustache curling upwards. Jayce had met him what felt like another lifetime ago, and had served as his mentor for the start of his career.

 

Dr. Heimerdinger tapped into the microphone. “Alright, alright, settle down! Let's get started.” 

 

A two-hour presentation followed suit where the room was informed of the new discovery the Ministry of Technology and Innovation had stumbled upon. It consisted of a round crystal, the size of a golf ball, which seemed to contain and exude tremendous amounts of energy. It was semi-opaque, white with splashes of nude colors (pink, orange, blue) splattering inside, flashing silver every so often.

 

A storm contained in a tiny crystal.

 

Any other information around it, they would not disclose. 

 

The ministry was convinced that they held the key to unlock a new path in technology, one that could revolutionise reality as they'd come to know it. And that explained why they'd rounded up so many renowned scientists in a single room. 

 

The Ministry had aligned with the Academy to hold a competition amongst innovators. They were searching for both ideas to utilise the crystal, as well as ways to replicate it. It would be available for study within the confines of the Academy, and the institution was prepared to share its spare laboratories for any who would need them. Thankfully, Jayce already had his own within Academy grounds, so there would be no need for concern on that account.

 

After the conference concluded, they moved to a vast hall, where flutes with swishing liquids were being served, appetisers offered in beautiful platters. Every time a waiter approached him with an offering, Jayce smiled and politely declined. A big chandelier centered the room, a lavish display of the academy's funds. Music drifted into the space and Jayce debated whether he could sneak out of this social obligation, his mind already brainstorming ideas for this monumental new project he was about to take on. The room was buzzing, excited chatter among scientists at the endless possibilities presented before them. At the chance of a legacy so vast it was difficult to fully comprehend. 

 

He was in deep conversation with a man named Corin Reveck when it happened. 

 

The feeling came with no warning, hitting his senses like a violently derailed train. The voices around him slowed, sneaking themselves into the background of Jayce’s attention. A stale yet electric white noise took full front of his consciousness, and everything began to happen in slow motion: the waiter's pace dulled, Corin’s blinking became sluggish and all he could feel was his heart throbbing inside his ribcage, pumping fast enough to provide electricity to the entire building. 

 

Thu-bump. Thu-bump. Thu-bump.

 

It was the charged silence before the disarray, the magical dizziness that poured from serendipity. It was glorious and addictive and everything he’d ever wanted back. It was what he’d been missing in order to take the first clean breath in years. 

 

Seven, to be precise. For seven years, he’d been pursuing this exact sensation.

 

Now, the nausea of it shook him stiff.

 

This corporeal harmony had nothing to do with his ongoing conversation or the prospect of making scientific history, no.

 

It was directly connected to that rich, deep voice laced with an unequivocal accentuation that had echoed somewhere behind him. Like a thread, pulling from the depths of his unconsciousness.

 

He quickly found himself suffocating in lashing flashes from his past. Memories of pain, ecstasy, betrayal, cowardice, joy, defiance, freedom… They ruthlessly swarmed Jayce all at once.

 

As if on cue, Corin glanced somewhere behind him, and a polite smile tugged at his lips immediately. And even though nobody else could perceive it, Jayce had started sweating under his clothes. 

 

“Ah, Dr. Jedlitzka,” Corin said, extending a hand towards the silhouette behind Jayce. “How lovely to see you again.” 

 

“Likewise, Dr. Reveck. I must confess, I devoured your paper on electrical modulation of genetic mutations for enhancing applications. It was fascinating research.” 

 

Jayce knew it was rude not to turn around, but he found himself utterly petrified. His limbs, his face, every aspect of his being had shut down and been pulled tight, immobile and useless. He tried to focus on something he could control, so he attempted to swallow. 

 

“That's very kind of you to say, I'm flattered. I have also been keeping up with your research on AI-assisted mobility aids. I believe such studies might be quite revolutionary in further facilitating independence within those communities.” 

 

Conveniently, Jayce realized he’d forgotten how to swallow. His mouth was dry, and he was completely lacking control over the production of his saliva. His throat bobbed pathetically, but nothing was coming or going. 

 

How did one fucking swallow?!

 

“Excuse me a moment,” he said, a warm smile spreading as he gently dipped his head in farewell.

 

He had perfected his facial expressions, his demeanor, he knew how to play the part of the integrated socialite. If he'd learned one thing, it would have been that.

 

And that part of himself was currently betraying him. 

 

He felt the back of his head burning with attention as he slunk across the room, greeting people in passing, laughing at quick quips some acquaintances threw his way. He grabbed two flutes from a tray and stepped onto the balcony. 

 

The fresh air hit him immediately, and the relief of a breeze grazing his scalding skin was nothing short of a merciful act of God. 

 

It couldn't be, it couldn't be, it couldn't be.

 

Could he be having another nightmare?

 

He casually leaned against the stone wall of the building, hidden from wandering eyes, and downed both flutes one after the other. Then, he proceeded to mercilessly pinch the skin on the top of his left hand. Over and over, until his fingers trembled with the effort and his skin turned red from the pain. 

 

Nope, nope, nope, noppidy-nope.

 

He pulled out his phone with shaky hands and opened his conversation with Caitlyn. 

 

J: Code red. 

 

And even though only a split second had passed since he’d pressed send, Jayce could have been convinced that hours had dragged by.

 

Time stopping was not such an appealing phenomenon anymore.

 

J: CODE FUCKING RED CAIT

 

C: no way

C: are you okay? where are you? 

 

J: idk im hiding pls help me I think I'm having a panic attack 

 

The door to the balcony clicked open, and despite appearing completely calm and put together on the outside, someone simply having some air in comfortable solitude, Jayce jumped out of his skin on the inside. 

 

“Hello, sir. Would you like a refreshment?” Asked the young waitress, her blonde hair neatly braided around her head.

 

Jayce smiled. “Thank you for coming out of your way. Yes, please.” He placed both of his empty glasses on her tray, and took a new one. Mischievousness filtered her expression as she regarded his empty flutes. 

 

“Would you like a second? I promise I won't tell.” 

 

Jayce gaped for a quick moment before letting out a nervous belly laugh. 

 

“Oh, no, thank you. I wouldn't want to get you in trouble. But how about we do this instead.” He downed the modest liquid, now burning down his throat, and placed the empty flute once more in the tray. Then, he grabbed another, and did it a second time.

 

“No evidence, no crime,” he concluded, the alcohol beginning to affect him due to his empty stomach.

 

The tug in her lips widened. “Of course, sir. Have a nice evening.” 

 

“Thank you and likewise.” 

 

Jayce pulled out his phone again, his vision blurring around the edges due to the panic he was repressing. 

 

C: send us your location, were coming to pick you up 

 

Jayce pinged her. 

 

“Forever the charmer,” a deep and raspy voice drawled, casual mirth enveloping an accent that was no stranger to Jayce. His heart squeezed to the point of affliction. 

 

In his momentary distraction, he hadn't noticed that the sound of the balcony door closing never came. That man had slipped outside as if nothing, intruding on his escape.

 

Why was he here? Why was he talking to him? Why was he searching for him? God, Jayce wished he’d gone elsewhere now. He could have sat in the public bathroom and it would have been preferable to this.

 

Jayce was keenly aware of his insides quivering, like a foal just out of the womb.

 

You’re so fucking pathetic.

 

The memory of the last words he'd heard that voice spit in his direction echoed in his mind, and another wave of dread filtered through the cracks of his unpreparedness. 

 

Best to rip off the bandage.

 

After years of practice, Jayce effortlessly slipped into his public mask, a personally crafted barrier between himself and whoever addressed him. This was no different.

 

Right?

 

Lulled by alcohol, Jayce swivelled towards the person behind the voice. 

 

His hair was longer, now grazing his shoulders with clear tips stark against the chocolate brown. Wavy strands framed his face, parted down the middle, only enhancing his high cheekbones and slicing jawline. His golden eyes studied him, glinting with the hues of a setting sunset that seemed to stretch toward him and glow in his gaze. It was pinning Jayce with an anchoring intensity that blurred all peripheral attention he might have gotten to experience in its absence.

 

It punched the air right out of his lungs.

 

And, to Jayce's surprise, he looked... Healthy. Healthier than the last time he'd seen him. Fuller, his cheeks flushed with colour and a straight posture that radiated self-assurance. It seemed time had been kind to him.

 

Bastard.

 

Still, Jayce's throat tightened at the sight before him. At who was before him. He made an effort to swallow down the lump in his throat. 

 

“Jayce,” Viktor nodded in greeting. 

 

At the sound of that deep tone, Jayce straightened, pocketed his phone and folded his hands behind his back. A bead of sweat snaked down his rigid spine– a menacing caress that flirted with the furious need to scratch his skin.  

 

“Dr. Jedlitzka,” Jayce acknowledged in return, a detached curve to his lips. Viktor's eyes widened at the formality and Jayce felt some rancid, smug satisfaction at the sight. “Is there anything that I can assist you with?” 

 

Viktor snorted–snorted–and took a few unhurried steps towards the railing, his cane clicking on stone.

 

The redirection of those eyes away from him filled him with an immediate sense of profound relief.

 

Viktor's free hand dragged slowly on the parapet, caressing it almost. He sighed a heavy thing. 

 

“Can't say I missed this place,” he mused, staring at the Piltovian landscape underneath them, glistening in the shades of dusk. The sea stretched beyond, its glimmer dancing on the slowly quieting horizon.

 

And just like that, a sight Jayce had found deeply comforting moments ago, beautiful even, now tasted like ash in his mouth.

 

Anger began to bubble to the surface, raw and wild and clawing. 

 

He could do this. He could do this. He could do this.  

 

“I shall leave you to your thoughts, then. Good evening.”

 

As Jayce shifted to leave, Viktor spoke once more. 

 

“I just thought you ought to know I've been assigned as your lab partner. I was unfortunately late today and it seems all other laboratories in the Academy have been distributed. I was hoping we could be… civil.” 

 

You have to be fucking kidding me. 

 

Jayce clenched his jaw, a tightness around the edges he had done a fantastic job until now of keeping at bay. He bore his eyes into the back of Viktor's head, livid at the sheer audacity displayed before him.

 

Jayce drew a slow and steady breath, regained his composure. “Excuse me?” 

 

Viktor turned, leaned his elbow on the railing, and faced him. He was grimacing. 

 

“It seems Dr. Heimerdinger believes it to be a grand idea, considering our… History.” 

 

Jayce blinked. 

 

“I will have words with him,” he assured, avoiding Viktor's attention and focusing on a very interesting spot on the floor. His clammy hands clenched and unclenched at his back.

 

Jayce didn't see as much as he felt Viktor's eyes narrow. 

 

Viktor scoffed. “You do that.” Tilting his head, he added, “But there’s a high probability that we will have to make do.” 

 

The confidence in that statement cracked Jayce’s composure, stoking the fire climbing up his throat.

 

“Not if I can help it,” he sneered.

 

"Ah." Viktor's eyes flashed with something lethal, a menacing smile curving in his mouth. “There you are.”

 

God, Jayce wanted to fight him. Push him off the balcony. He wanted to roar in his stupid face until his translucent skin peeled off and flew into the wind. Urgh, he should definitely shove him off the balcony. Maybe Jayce could say he tripped. He wanted to rattle him until he shook out the layers of him he no longer recognised.

 

How does it feel to colossally fail?

 

He needed to leave. Now.

 

“If you'll excuse me, I have a previous engagement I wouldn't want to be late to.”

 

“Suit yourself,” Viktor shrugged. 

 

Jayce gave him a politician's farewell with a faint nod, swirled and walked out before Viktor could say another word. 

 

If Jayce had known this is what would have taken to stop time, he wouldn’t have wasted so much of his own pursuing it. In fact, he would have lived happily knowing that every minute had raced by with absolutely no remorse. 

 

Fuck.

Notes:

TW: alcohol consumption to cope, trauma related flashbacks

Chapter 2: Let him rot in your periphery.

Notes:

TW IN ENDNOTES

i didnt mean to write a depressed jayce but it came out like that

also sometimes the narrator leaves the room and the narration continues cause i felt like it

Perhaps he could not, in fact, do this.

 

“Civil?! CIVIL?!” Jayce raged, already wearing a pyjama set Caitlyn kept in her home for his overnight visits. It had kittens on it. “The fucking GALL!” Jayce's hands fisted, a scream gurgling in the base of his throat. “Seven years of fucking nothing and then he comes back to not only invade my personal space, but to make demands ?!” 

 

He sat cross-legged on their living room floor while Cait and Vi were sprawled on the couch before him, tentatively staring at him. 

 

“It does seem rather unfortunate,” Cait offered. “You can't ask someone to switch with him?” 

 

“Apparently not,” he fumed, tone clipped and dipped in acid. “I tried to speak to Heimerdinger but he's convinced we will work well together, that blithering buffoon. And he’s not only Dean but Head of Innovation, I have to eat shit.” Jayce dragged a hand down his face, exasperated. 

 

“Sheesh,” Vi grimaced. She side-eyed Caitlyn, and Jayce braced himself. “He's still hot, though.” 

 

And it was the fact that Vi had not even had the decency to ask, but that she said it so matter-of-factly instead, that triggered Jayce to abruptly stand. A well-known itch sizzled under his skin. 

 

Caitlyn rolled her eyes, and Vi smirked at him. “Come on, pretty boy.” 

 

Jayce took two full strides, hunched to haul Vi over his shoulder, before a knee clashed into his jaw. He stumbled back, pain crashing and crackling like lightning in his mandible. 

 

“Not here! I like my living room as is, go beat each other up elsewhere.” The exasperation in Caitlyn's voice was enough warning to both of them. They shoved and slapped one another into the spare bedroom, one Vi had turned into a work-out space, and closed the door behind them. 

 

Muffled sounds of a brawl ensued.

 

Caitlyn shook her head, letting out a heavy sigh as she reached for her TV remote on the coffee table. “Animals,” she said under her breath, a small smile tugging at her lips as she reached for the hot cocoa at her side, took a tiny sip, and pressed play on the true crime documentary. 

 

/// 

 

They returned to the living room thirty minutes later, a burning ache on Jayce's lower lip and a spiking pain next to his right eye. Vi had cleaned the blood that had run down her nose, but otherwise looked completely unharmed. They usually avoided hitting each other's faces so they could be presentable for work, but it seemed that had been unavoidable this time around. 

 

Cait clicked pause on her TV and stared between them. Vi pressed a kiss to the top of her head before padding to the kitchen. 

 

“You're sleeping in that,” she stated, pointing at his pajamas now fashioning red dots. He sank to the floor once again, anger abandoned and making room for a numbing void. He dragged his eyes to meet hers, and worry interlaced in her gaze, softening and knowing. 

 

“What am I gonna do, Cait?” He murmured helplessly. “I can't do this again.” 

 

If anyone would know the weight of the words coming out of Jayce, it was her. He’d never truly spoken about it, the Viktor topic had been forbidden and then seemingly forgotten in this household. But Jayce knew. He knew she'd seen through him. To what extent he wasn't sure, but enough to be aware of the massive toll that single altercation had taken all those years ago. 

 

Jayce had tried to pick himself up, glued himself back together in some capacity. He'd tried to focus on his work, on guiding doctoral students to achieve their innovative goals, on his remaining friendships– whatever else he could grasp onto to continue on.

 

But the truth was that after everything, he realised, looking back, that his lifeline had been cracked, split in two: a clear before and after.

 

Whatever endured of his sense of self from the before section of his life had remained in tatters, slipping through his fingers anytime he'd tried to reconnect the edges.

 

As for the after... He'd attempted to make the most of it, he supposed. He was pained by the thought that he’d failed to accomplish many of the goals he’d stubbornly set for himself.

 

Jayce rubbed his eyes, pain flashing in his right side as his stomach churned with disgusted disappointment.

 

He only heard Caitlyn once she kneeled in front of him, his childhood friend and adopted sibling, always roguish and silent in her movements. She pried his hands away from his face. 

 

“Yes, you can,” she encouraged softly. “You don't have to interact with him, or even acknowledge him if you don't want to. But maybe this is exactly what you need. The final full stop to a book you were never given the chance to write an ending to.” 

 

“I don't want to, I- I- I ca-” 

 

“Then don't,” she offered with a tenderness that made Jayce want to fall apart. “That final chapter is not written yet. Maybe it consists of you realising you gave him far more power over you than he ever had. Maybe you realise you actually couldn't care less that he's around, and that will be an ending of sorts too. You can put it behind you once and for all.”

 

She squeezed his hands. “Besides, from what you mentioned earlier, it seems you might have a new, how did you say? 'Super cool project' to focus on at work, right?” 

 

Jayce sniffed. “Yeah.” 

 

She smiled. “Well, there you go. Focus on that. Let him rot in your periphery, you deserve better than to be haunted for the rest of your life.” 

 

“I'm going to hug you now,” he said, dragging a chuckle out of her. He leaned forward and put his arms around her, squeezing her against his torso. Cait patted his back. “Thanks, Sprout.” 

 

“Don't mention it,” she wheezed. Jayce immediately let her go, surprise rippling through him. Cait’s smile was comforting, clearly used to being around people who weren’t quite aware of their own strength. And, in custom with her perfect timing, Vi returned to the living room and chucked a bag of frozen peas to Jayce, winking at him before she plumped down the couch once more. 

 

Vi glanced between them with a bored expression.

 

“So are we watching The L Word or what?” 

 

///

 

Jayce returned to his routine and took Cait's advice to heart. 

 

He couldn't study the crystal until the following Monday, so he spent the rest of the week taking it slow. He refused to let this blast from the past deter him from his goals. Jayce had much to concern himself with, and engaging in scenarios that would revive old wounds seemed inefficient. 

 

Even if those wounds felt like scorching brands in each wayward fragment of his scraped identity. 

 

Even if he'd been molded from the rubble of that fallout, over seven years ago.

 

The first day Jayce went back to the lab was harrowing. Every step felt like walking into a lion's den, except it was his den and the lion had been the intruder. 

 

Jayce didn't search for Viktor in his space, he simply pretended to be alone as he was accustomed to. His work created a sort of tunnel vision, and whatever occurred in his environment was purposefully ignored. 

 

There was no clear understanding as to what to do in the face of witnessing a ghost come to life, so Jayce did nothing at all. 

 

He noticed, however, that Viktor grumbled good morning whenever he first walked through the door each day, despite the fact that Jayce did not once make the effort to acknowledge him back. 

 

Surprisingly, Jayce didn't want to see him. He didn't want to hear him or his gravelly voice, he didn't want to converse, he didn't want to remember Viktor existed altogether. 

 

Jayce desperately craved, more than anything, to be left to his own devices and to his research. 

 

Every time his mind suggested anything that could remotely invite an unwelcome interaction, Jayce suffocated it. A flame being snuffed out before it could wreak havoc in his life.

 

The past was in the past and there was absolutely nothing anyone could do to change it. There was no point in dwelling on it, conversing about it, or making room for a part of his existence he had made such an astronomical effort to leave behind.

 

Even if the other character responsible for that main event was now cohabiting his space.

 

As if nothing.

 

As if hearing that cane click on the floor didn’t feel like a nail digging into his skin with each mortifying step. As if hearing the door of his lab open every morning didn’t cause Jayce to jolt with stunted surprise, especially when the person coming through it was Viktor.

 

Jayce's mind was utterly lost in how to make sense of it– any of it. Seven years of deafening quiet just for that person to casually pop up and go about their day as if Jayce hadn't existed to them, either. 

 

Every night, his brain seemed to reset and embrace the possibility that the trespasser  might have been a figment of his imagination. That conclusion seemed more sensical than whatever truth he was being confronted with.

 

Reality blurred, the lines between past and present swishing around in his head every time he felt Viktor’s presence, like a concoction born of a debilitating resentment. Leaning one way or the other seemed to depend entirely on the day.

 

Jayce worried that if he did not focus on his responsibilities, he’d crumble with the simple memory of a spectre that now mockingly whispered taunts of a past ache in his ear.

 

Yet, the reality of the situation was that the circumstances at hand were being forced upon him. Nothing to do but press forward, as Jayce had always done. 

 

Anytime he heard any commotion, Jayce mindlessly turned to the last page of his notebook and drew a small line on the miniature-sized calendar there residing.

 

Other than that, Jayce made the conscious choice not to dwell on any of it for longer than necessary. For his own limping sanity. 

 

Still, it was not lost on him how Viktor had kept many aspects of his routine intact. 

 

He would walk into the lab around ten A.M, looking drowsy and at times, slightly disheveled. Not long after, the scent of coffee filled the room, and the clinking of a utensil swirling around a cup proceeded.

 

Jayce couldn't stand the smell or the noise. It was new and intrusively disruptive, and just another reminder that he wasn't alone. 

 

Thankfully, Viktor’s desk was inside a nook in the lab, behind a thick pillar that was diametrically opposed to his own work station. Thus, embracing his much-needed solitude came relatively easily. Out of sight, out of mind. 

 

As the days dragged on, Jayce kept himself as occupied as humanly possible. He didn't notice that whenever he left for lunch and returned, Viktor was still in the room. He didn't notice that now and again, he could hear bones cracking and popping from the other end of the lab. He didn't notice the incessant clacking of Viktor's keyboard wafting into the room, reminiscent of a different era, slicing through memory and reality. He didn't notice that when Jayce left for the day, Viktor always remained. 

 

He clearly didn't notice any of it.

 

Days passed, and during the moments where dissociation took a break, Jayce continued to feel dumbfounded. Viktor was right there, and Jayce's inner void happily fed on that unbelievable notion.

 

The only moment he would dare to sneak a peek at his former lab partner would be when Viktor stood with his back to him, writing lists and equations on his own chalkboard, stationed in plain sight.

 

Jayce had the urge to scream don’t you see me?!, to violently shake his frame until a semblance of his long lost friend came to the surface.

 

Instead, Jayce always chose to dip his gaze back to his work with a slight shake of his head.

 

The fact that Jayce meant nothing sank into him like a heavy stone in black water. Silent and meaningless. That numbness he'd ultimately befriended easily found its way home, comfortably nested beneath his sternum.

 

When he finally returned home in the evenings, exhaustion pulled him down like an anvil tied with a noose around his neck. The effort of not paying attention took its toll, alongside the whipping flashbacks of this person that used to feel like his second skin and now was a complete stranger.

 

Most days, Jayce poured himself a drink to help him relax and forget under the new and inevitable circumstances. Even if for a fleeting, miserable moment. 

 

Most of those fretful nights, he failed.

 

Jayce went to bed with the burning image of golden eyes, amplified by the touch of sunlight, boring into him on a balcony somewhere. A memory of a dream he didn't dare relive when he was sober– one that assured him of Viktor's return.

 

At least he wasn't solely–depletingly–angry. The nothingness held him, wrapping Jayce in a familiar armored embrace that was the sole reasoning for his unconceivable endurance. It was his guardian, his friend, his caregiver and his lover, all in one.

 

Dr. Heimerdinger came to visit them once, eager to welcome Viktor back and speak of old times. It surprised him to see that, over time, Viktor had gotten much better at playing the socialite, as well.

 

Jayce found his mind underwater when the two of them discussed the project from a millennium ago, but other than that, he played his part as he always did. Smiles, optimism, well-timed jokes, excitement over the prospects that accompanied this new project. Whatever was expected and then some.

 

Heimerdinger eventually stared a little too intensely and asked him what had happened to his face, which Jayce had suitably forgotten about. Luckily, it had been over a week and a half since his scuffle with Vi, so bruises had turned yellow, and his split lip had crusted. Jayce slipped on the demeanor like a pair of well-worn gloves, spinning a tale that had Heimerdinger both laughing and sympathizing. It was fairly easy to change the subject after that.

 

Once the Dean left their lab, seemingly satisfied, Jayce felt his shoulders immediately slump inwards as he turned back into himself, letting that eerily familiar void retake the reins.

 

Despite it, Jayce was profoundly relieved to be alone in his lab once more, away from studious eyes that might have forced him to continue the impeccably practiced charade.

 

Except he wasn’t quite alone anymore now, was he?

 

That was the only day where Viktor and he almost spoke. Jayce sensed Viktor's stare lingering on his back, hairs on his nape bristling at the recognisable attention.

 

But he didn't have a single shred of energy to care about anything at all.

 

“Don't,” Jayce muttered.

 

And that was that.

Notes:

TW: depression/depressive thinking patterns and behaviours, alcohol consumption, masking, violence to cope

my poor baby is going through it guys

also loved writing vi, might write more of their dynamic

any feedback or overall comments are not only welcome but appreciated <3

Chapter 3: Don't you dare.

Notes:

TW IN ENDNOTES

Jayce spent the following Monday morning studying the crystal. It was truly fascinating, he’d never encountered a source of energy quite like that. He'd managed to run a series of tests, make some sense of its nature and potential. Some exhilaration had stirred his attention, and for the first time in two weeks, he was looking forward to returning to his work space and getting started on this new venture. 

 

After hours upon hours of investigative trials, he called it a day, grabbed a late lunch and headed to the lab. 

 

Several ideas were running around his head, though nothing concrete yet, merely spit-held concepts and a string of endless questions that itched to be answered. But as he was dropping the books he'd retrieved from the library and his notebooks on his desk, all thoughts came to a screeching halt. 

 

Something was different. Vacant.

 

The desk that usually pressed against his own was missing, four small and discolored squares on the white floor protruding with its absence. A frown etched into his brow, and he swivelled to look around. 

 

On the far corner of the lab, a wooden work surface peeked from behind the column. Jayce approached with cautious steps and slowly, he peeked around it.

 

And there he was.

 

It continued to shock Jayce to his very core to see him in the flesh. Secretly, he still expected Viktor to evaporate from one day to the next. In fact, Jayce was counting on it. 

 

But that blessed day was not today, it seemed. 

 

Viktor had made a shape of an L with two desks, pristine fingers scribbling away under mountains of documents. Viktor wore a sleeveless burgundy sweater vest over his buttoned-up white shirt, sleeves loose around his arms. He'd tied his hair in a half bun, keeping it from his eyes as he worked in silence. 

 

He sat there like a monarch in a throne constructed by his own making. 

 

Jayce's lingering presence went by unacknowledged, and even though Jayce was painfully aware of the fact he’d done it most, seeing Viktor replicate his choices had his nape turn uncomfortably stiff.

 

He'd returned with the same excruciating efficiency as he'd disappeared, like it was the most uncomplicated thing in the world. One day, dropped out of sight without a single trace. Another random day, returned in full force. 

 

Consequences be damned, Viktor had been a storm that had upended Jayce’s life, followed by a clearing built upon a deafening silence. There had been no remnants of its fury besides the wreckage tucked away where no one could witness it. 

 

Only to roar back years later- unpredictable, unstoppable and uncontrollable. Its return almost as jarring as its sudden absence.

 

Viktor had wasted no time making himself at home, considering the amount of clutter already neatly placed around him. Jayce couldn't help but ask himself if he'd ever actually left. 

 

Yet Jayce couldn’t escape the flash of heat that curled up his neck in profound annoyance at the sight before him, crackling embers of anger stoked in the pit of his stomach. How quickly he was reminded of the evidence simmering inside him that proved that had not been the case at all. 

 

“Yes?” Viktor intoned without looking up from whatever the hell he was doing. Jayce shifted his feet. He pointed an accusatory finger at his missing desk. 

 

“That's mine.” 

 

Viktor waved his hand dismissively, nails painted black. Jayce tracked the movement like a cat stalking a laser. 

 

“I'm sure you don't mind, I couldn't afford to waste my time hunting for an extra one. Clearly, that's not the case on your end, considering you're coming in at–” he flicked his wrist “–four thirty P.M. Not that that's any of my concern.” 

 

Jayce gritted his teeth.

 

“At least you're right about one thing.”  

 

Viktor clucked. “I'm right about most things.” 

 

There was an awkward pause. 

 

Scribble, scribble, scribble.

 

“Give me my desk back.” 

 

“No.” 

 

Jayce crossed his arms. “I'll just steal it back from you, then.” 

 

Viktor rolled his eyes, and frustration began to bubble within Jayce. 

 

“What a boy genius you are,–" Viktor drawled with a bored tone. "–warning me of your evil plans.” 

 

Good to know that after seven years, he was still as insufferable, if not more so.

 

“Besides,” Viktor pressed on. “You wouldn't put that kind of physical strain on a man with a cane, would you, Dr. Talis? Imagine what people would think.” He exaggerated a gasp, a mocking tone leading his words. “Big, strong Jayce Talis, letting a cripple do physical labour because he's too much of a selfish prick to do it himself when it would take him one tenth of the effort.” 

 

Jayce let out a tight breath, nostrils flaring. “You're using the disabled card on me? Really?”

 

Unbelievable.

 

Some things did not seem to change. Viktor’s tendency to use his disability to manipulate outcomes to his liking had been weirdly impressive when they'd first met. Now, seeing he was on the receiving end of it, made Jayce boil.

 

Viktor’s indifferent stare raised to meet his own, and Jayce caught him studying the almost faded bruises decorating the skin next to his right eye, only to lower to the healing lip. 

 

Jayce's jaw was fiercely locked, his masticatory muscles jutting out with each clench.

 

Dr. Talis. It sounded so wrong coming out of his mouth.

 

Viktor shrugged. “Would you rather I use a different one? How about, I need this desk for my research and from what I've noticed, your ideas can be summarised on a Post-it note. I made an informed conclusion that you wouldn't be using it.”

 

It sounded like Viktor was explaining his reasoning to a child, only furthering Jayce’s abrupt, foul mood. He clenched his hands at his sides to avoid descending into a version of himself he did not recognise.

 

“Don't pretend to know anything about me,” Jayce warned, his fists slightly trembling with restraint.

 

Jayce had promised himself to avoid interaction so as not to fall into conflict. But then, of course, Viktor had to open that goddamned mouth of his, and any sense of decorum was begging to be thrown out the window. Jayce realised he didn't even care that much about the table, let alone what others would think of him. But it was the principle of it all.

 

“And I was using it.” 

 

Viktor snorted. “That's a lovely use of the past tense. Well done.” 

 

A furious rumble ground out from Jayce's throat, and Viktor lifted the corners of his mouth. Like he was proud of himself. 

 

So much for keeping it professional. Jayce had had about enough.

 

With a slow and smooth side-step, Jayce trailed the book at the ledge of a desk with his forefinger. At long last, the incessant scribbling came to a stop. 

 

Viktor’s eyes snapped to his before they narrowed. “Don't you dare,” he threatened in a low tone. 

 

Jayce kept his gaze locked onto Viktor’s as he dragged his digit with excruciating leisure. The book tumbled off the edge and thudded open on the floor. Sheets of paper flew out of the pages and scurried under the desk, the cabinet, others simply slipped to the floor in a beautifully disorganised chaos.

 

Inch by inch, Jayce leaned forward, his chest bent over the workspace as he gripped the side of the furniture, knuckles whitening. From the feeling coiling in his gut, he knew his smile was coated in venom, as much as his eyes were dripping with loathing. 

 

“Those seemed rather important, Dr. Jedlitzka.” His voice was clipped and slightly sinister. “Have fun picking them up for the remainder of the day.” 

 

As he walked away, he couldn't help but smile after he heard a soft curse in Viktor’s native tongue echo behind him. 

 

/// 

 

And so began their little war game. 

 

There was no communication between them as the weeks went on, no pleasant words exchanged, but both took turns attempting to make the other one miserable. 

 

Jayce was hoping he'd annoy Viktor to the point of disappearing again and still came in every morning expecting to find Viktor's desk empty, not a single trace of his fleeting existence in his life. But the man seemed rather stubborn in ruthlessly colonising his workspace. 

 

He wasn't about to give up so easily, though. Peace in solitude might just be around the corner and he had concluded that such a result might be the perfect solution to his problem.

 

No Viktor, no source of disarray.

 

One morning, he found all of the pens and pencils missing, rendering him empty-handed when he reached to note something down. He had to pinch the bridge of his nose in order to control the sudden urge to break something.

 

Consequently, Jayce made sure that the following day, Viktor found the four wheels of his chair unscrewed and hidden around the lab. One he'd chucked a top the highest storage locker and had been thrilled to witness Viktor desperately come up with creative ways to make himself taller.

 

Jayce groaned as he drew out his arms above his head, satisfaction curling inside him like the touch of sunlight. “Nice day for a stretch, wouldn't you agree?”

 

The murderous look Viktor threw his way whilst he was attempting to reach ended up making his entire day.

 

The next lab-war crime came a few days later when Jayce noticed the plaque bearing his name on his desk was bearing his name no longer, and instead revealed ‘Dr. Inept’. For some reason, that one made him want to smile, which only fueled gasoline to the blazing anger directed towards his former lab partner.

 

Jayce noticed that even if he seized the lab misconduct on his colleague, Viktor was relentless. Like a dog with a bone, he wanted to see Jayce suffer and would not let anything deter him from that goal. 

 

So Jayce integrated it into his routine, as well. He wasn't about to be bested by an insupportable know-it-all. His ego wouldn't allow it. 

 

Each time, the stakes grew a little higher. 

 

A few days after that, Jayce hid the much detested fancy coffee machine Viktor had bought for the lab in his own cabinet, locked beside Jayce's desk. 

 

That one had been particularly satisfying. That joyful morning, he’d returned from a meeting only to find Viktor caught red-handed, scrummaging through Jayce’s stuff. 

 

“Can I help you, Dr. Jedlitzka?” He asked, a tone of slight concern and casualty. Viktor whirled towards him, a frantic fury in his expression. “Dare I say, this is wildly inappropriate." He gave him a cold tilt of his lips. "And a reason for complaint.”

 

Viktor kept his piercing glare locked onto Jayce.

 

“Where is it?” He demanded, his edged tone filled with exasperation.

 

“Step away from my belongings." 

 

“I can't function without my coffee. Give it back, you inane ninnyhammer.”

 

Jayce let out an exaggerated sigh. “Unfortunately, what doesn't kill you disappoints the rest of us.” 

 

Viktor stood abruptly, his breaths hissing through his clenched teeth.

 

“You'll regret this.”

 

With a low string of curses muttered under his breath, he returned to his desk. 

 

The following time, Jayce came into work to find several corrections on the equations written in his personal chalkboard. Viktor knew which buttons to push and apparently, correcting his math without prompt was one of them. It was especially infuriating because of course, of course, now looking at it, it made much more sense.

 

Jayce paced back and forth, fantasising about strangling the parasite forced upon him until Viktor walked through the door that morning. He had the most abhorrent, arrogant upward twitch to his mouth, a cup of coffee from the cart stationed outside the academy in hand. 

 

“Stay the fuck out of my research,” Jayce threatened, stomping in his direction in a tempest of blistering rage. “That crosses a line.” 

 

“You're welcome,” he chirped. “You being stuck on that was giving me a headache for days.” 

 

“How did you even–” Jayce cut himself off, his nerves pulled tight inside him. He sliced his palm through the air, ending the conversation in order to preserve some sense of sanity. He wouldn't let this man get under his skin. 

 

No more than he already was, at least. 

 

Viktor glared in his direction nonetheless, insulted by the insinuation. 

 

“I do not have the time, the will, nor the crayons necessary to explain anything to you,” he deadpanned before heading towards his designated work space.

 

Rage simmered in Jayce's chest, and in that moment, he hated him. Truly, profoundly, hated him. 

 

So he planned the cruelest payback he could think of. Having some background information about his current nemesis came in delectably handy when plotting for revenge. 

 

Consequently, a couple of days later, Viktor walked into the lab to find a welcome back party.

 

Jayce had correctly suspected Viktor would work during the holiday. He had invited everyone he remembered him to be acquainted with: Sky Young, Ekko, Sevika, a dozen of students Jayce knew he despised from his PhD program way back when, even Caitlyn and Vi had come. There were food platters on his desk, balloons hung from his board, cups with mimosas, and other such nonsense. 

 

Jayce remained seated in his corner, pretending to find his notes extremely interesting. Relishing on the mortified expression Viktor had shown for a split second upon seeing the immense crowd that was specifically waiting for him. And in his sacred space. 

 

Jayce was biting his lip to keep from genuinely smiling because it had been a stroke of genius. None of the people who knew him touched him, but some of the other students hauled him into embraces that he stiffened under and did not return. Even though Jayce did not participate, he could feel Viktor glowering towards him from time to time, invisible daggers viciously hurled in his direction. He savored every second of perceived torment, angels singing in choired unison in his head. The lyrics went something like fuck you, fuck you, fuck you. Beautiful harmonies, too.

 

Halfway through the morning, amidst loud chatter and laughter, Caitlyn sauntered towards his desk. He looked up, warmth spreading at the sight of her. 

 

“Hey, Sprout.” 

 

“Hey.” She rested her leg atop the corner of his table, hands clasping in the middle, and stared at Jayce. He raised an eyebrow. 

 

“What?” 

 

“What on earth is going on between you two?” 

 

Jayce bristled. 

 

“What do you mean?” 

 

“Tell me why that beautiful man keeps looking at you like he wants to throttle you. Tell me why you’re sitting here by yourself.” 

 

Jayce did smile at her now. He enumerated with his digits. 

 

“Because it was my turn to torment his wretched existence. Because I have work to do. And please, don't call him beautiful when he's the devil incarnate." Jayce reprimanded her with a poignant stare. "A bird just flopped dead somewhere because of you.” 

 

Cait snickered. “Assumed as much.” 

 

She glanced again towards the group of people gathered, her gaze falling to Vi, who was excitedly speaking to Sevika and Viktor. Both had an impassive expression, but Vi looked in her element. “Even if you planned this to annoy him, I don't think it's gonna have the effect you expect it to.” 

 

Jayce tilted his head. 

 

“What are you on about?” 

 

“I mean, you basically just got a bunch of people who genuinely cared about him in one room and reminded him of it.” 

 

Jayce gritted his teeth. “He's not fond of everyone here,” he bit out defensively, his tone low. 

 

“Yeah, but can you imagine? Leaving a life behind, leaving your friends, your home… Only to come back and realise they actually care about you, regardless of how long you've been gone. They're happy to see you, to have you back. I mean, just look at him, for Christ's sake. Really look at him.”

 

And so Jayce did. 

 

And even though Viktor was a reserved individual with a profound hatred to being the center of attention, especially in social circumstances, there was no tension in his body as he spoke to Vi and Sevika. In fact, he appeared quite intrigued with whatever topic they were discussing, nodding enthusiastically and listening attentively. Viktor seemed to ask a question, and Sevika removed part of her coat to show him her left arm. His eyes immediately came to life as he invited her to come closer to a source of light. Vi, in the meantime, grabbed Ekko by the neck and pulled him towards her, rustling his hair. Despite his clear annoyance, it also made him laugh. He joined Viktor and was instantly engaged by whatever they were discussing. 

 

Jayce then realised that Viktor was softly smiling , captivated by Sevikas prosthetic limb. It was the genuine one, and Jayce’s breath caught in his throat. 

 

A disgusting new feeling coiled in his gut. 

 

He turned and grabbed his coat from the back of his chair. 

 

“Where are you going?” Cait asked, a vulnerable layer to her tone, one that Jayce couldn't quite make sense of. 

 

“I need to… Check on some things. Thank you for coming out of your way for me. Again.”  

 

As he turned to leave, Cait grabbed his forearm. He met her sapphire eyes. 

 

“You did a good thing,” she said carefully as revulsion crept over him. “Vi has isolated herself from Zaun, and you know why. After her sister…” Cait returned her attention to her partner with an almost longing drawn in her face. Vi was smiling, conversing, shoving Ekko around. “It’s been a while since I've seen her like this around other people. It's making me realise she might miss home more than she lets on. Regardless of your intention, you did a great thing." Caitlyn gave him a pointed look. "Don't let that trouble you.” 

 

Jayce didn’t have the heart to tell her that he couldn’t face any of those conclusions. The simple truth of the matter was that he wanted to hurt Viktor like he’d hurt him. He wanted him to care like he’d cared. And everything else seemed like too much to handle. 

 

He placed a hand on top of hers, offered a soft squeeze. 

 

“I am glad, Cait. She deserves it. And so do you. You take care of all of us. Now that we know she might miss home, we'll be able to make plans accordingly. Maybe go visit? I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out.” 

 

She gave him a faint smile. A nod. 

 

“Thank you, Jayce.” 

 

After one more squeeze and a kiss to her temple, Jayce flung on his coat. He dared steal one last glance at Viktor, whose eyes sparkled while he now attentively studied Sevika’s arm. Jayce smiled inwardly before leaving work for the day, despite feeling viscerally irked about it.

 

And he found that he truly did not know what to do with any of it.

Notes:

TW: bullying

///

 

they're so pettyyyyyyyyyyy and childishh i love them

but dont worry, more angst to come, this is not over

any feedback or overall comments are not only welcome but appreciated <3 xx

Chapter 4: Chew me to completion, you coward.

Summary:

The lab-wars continue.

Notes:

TW IN ENDNOTES

i got my first ever comment guys :') it was like supersonic fuel to keep writing these silly interactions between these silly gooses. Thank you @NienneNierre

i'm aware the plot has been left to the side for a little bit. I've been having too much fun. but it has not been forgotten!

Jayce decided to skip work for the next few days.

 

Seeing so many people he respected in one room, actually getting along, had rendered him slightly off balance. It made him realise that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d proposed an actual get-together, without secondary ill intentions and merely for the sake of enjoying each other's company. He had immersed himself so wholeheartedly in his work that aside from Caitlyn and Vi, he barely met with anyone else, especially for leisure. 

 

And if he was being honest, sometimes he’d only see the pair because Cait pestered him relentlessly if she thought he was isolating again. 

 

Of course, this particular time, there had been a honey-eyed demon infiltrated in their midst. And if Viktor had enjoyed Jayce’s little social stunt, he would make sure he learned from his mistakes so it wasn’t a recurrent theme. 

 

Jayce wanted him gone.  

 

As he hopped in his car to get to work on Friday, he had an idea. Jayce reached for his phone in the side pocket of his lapel bag and pressed the button to record an audio.

 

Hey, Sprout! How’s it going? Hope your Friday is looking good and dandy. Listen, I was thinking about what you said the other day and I- you know, when you were at the lab. With Vi and everyone. And I was wondering if Vi would like to go to The Last Drop tonight? It’s been ages. We could take a trip to Zaun, we could invite Sevika and Ekko a- wait. Is Ekko even of legal age yet? I think he’s twenty-something, right? That’s a bit vague and could go either way, to be honest. Okay, so just in case, maybe not Ekko, but honestly, whoever you guys feel like. We could have a drink- or several. Dance a bit. Be stupid. Play billiards. Go home. What do you say? Okay, have a nice d- Oh, oh! WAIT! I forgot to tell you I took the kitty-cat pajama to wash, in case you’ve wondered about its whereabouts. I know it’s been weeks, but dude, I literally remind myself to tell you every day. And then I kind of forget… every day. Multiple times a day, if you’ll believe that. But alas! No more! I am free of this burden. Okay, gotta go to work, byeeeeeee. 

 

Sent. 

 

There was something about sending audios that turned Jayce into a manic little podcaster. Typing took an inordinate amount of effort, especially considering how large and wide his fingers were in comparison to the tiny keyboard on his screen. Words always ended up adopting extra letters, and when Jayce tried to slide his finger towards the specific area where he wanted to press delete, it ended up selecting more than what he’d anticipated, erasing them or dragging them elsewhere. It was a never-ending nightmare. So, audios were better. 

 

The moment he pressed send, he felt the energy evaporate from his being. As if he could only hold it for long enough to say what he wanted to say before his exhaustion returned once more with a mighty force.

 

Jayce strolled into the lab, mind distracted with an article displayed on his phone screen, which reported on an accident that had occurred in a mine near the fissures. Three people dead, a dozen in hospital. It had been another cave-in. 

 

It was this sort of news that made Jayce actively miserable. Shame knotted in his throat at the memory of a moment where he’d had the opportunity to actually help and squandered it. Yet, he still wanted to help, to aid in preventing tragedies like this from happening, but the how was still eluding him. 

 

As he raised his tired gaze to his chalkboard to confirm what he’d been working on, he froze.

 

What. The. Fuck. 

 

Jayce's entire workspace had been covered in Post-it notes. Yellow squares smattered everywhere, remnants of a clear sticky-paper-induced explosion. His board, his escritoire, the window behind it, his chair, scattered across his personal effects, the wall? It was mayhem, and Jayce couldn’t move out of sheer horror. Not only because of how much work removing each one was going to take, but also at the thought that Viktor had been hanging around his personal space in his absence, long enough to have a nasty comment to share about every single one of his possessions.   

 

With slightly shaky fingers, he reached for the mug on his desk, turning it warily. 

 

‘Where’s the mug with your ugly mug on it? Display case at home? Boo’

 

Jayce did not need to read any further before feeling the irascibility begin to filter through every pore of his body. What the hell was his problem?! 

 

Even his pens had Post-its wrapped around them.

 

‘Chew me to completion, you coward’

 

‘Plastic is the perfect nutrient for someone of your disposition.’

 

It got much worse when he approached the ones assaulting his board.

 

‘Useless from here – you forgot a comma, jackass’

 

‘Honestly, what even is this?’

 

‘How is this theorem correlated to this kind of math? You’re not even here and still you piss me off. Congratulations.’

 

‘Do you write how you think? Because this makes no sense.’

 

‘Oh, look! You managed to do a summation. Rejoice.'

 

‘Stupid’

 

‘How you are not embarrassed to leave this here truly baffles me’

 

‘Stupid’ 

 

‘Erase this equation and start over if you have any mathematical integrity.’

 

A newly familiar, electric sort of warmth hummed under his skin. He pretended not to notice his left eyelid fluttering of its own accord every few seconds. Jayce could officially decree he was part of a hostile work environment. 

 

He staggered toward the window.

 

‘CLEAN ME, BEHEMOTH’ 

 

A sort of blinding rage hit Jayce all at once, waves of heat pouring out of him as he lost any and all ability to think with precision. He began to tear all of them down with animalistic force, one after the other, ripping them off their placements in the hopes he'd snag them just as adeptly from his mind. 

 

Jayce was not an insecure man. Once upon a time, that might have been the case. When he’d first met Viktor, he’d desperately searched for other people's applause in order to validate his belonging in the PhD program. He’d lacked a personal sense of purpose and identity, desperately seeking it in how others might perceive him. Especially Viktor. 

 

Today? Today, he couldn’t care less. He had nothing to prove. Yes, he enjoyed superseding expectations, but not out of need. If anything, it was out of sport . 

 

Yet Viktor had never affronted him the way he did now. Not until that last conversation they’d had with each other, seven years ago. He wondered if Viktor was unleashing his repressed wrath on him, which Jayce could somewhat understand. He, too, was furious, and there wasn’t much Viktor could throw his way that he hadn’t already experienced within the confines of his own mind. 

 

Perhaps Jayce had gotten to know a version of Viktor that no longer existed in his vicinity. 

 

Now, they had this. Common anger threaded into the tapestry of whatever tatters remained.  

 

Breathing heavily and strung tight, he stormed towards Viktor’s side of the lab. As he turned the stone pillar, he faltered in his step.

 

Viktor was sprawled on top of the table, limbs curled over mountains of documents. His right arm was extended before him, his head resting on the hollow curve of the inside of his elbow, the limp limb turned into a makeshift pillow. A pencil still dangled for dear life, tilted between his fingertips. 

 

He was fast asleep. 

 

Jayce felt the sudden urge to raid his research, to find errors in his calculations, to find a way to ridicule him, somehow. The latter prospect was discarded swiftly since it seemed like a waste of time: the man was nothing if not diligent with his work. 

 

A concerning thought slithered into his consciousness-- perhaps this was a trap. 

 

Perhaps Viktor had only pretended to fall asleep, leaning on old patterns he was sure Jayce would not question, in order to lure him into making a mistake. Maybe he was being recorded, and Viktor was planning on showing that tape to the academy, without context, to make it seem like he was attempting to steal his work.  

 

Being black listed and ruining his reputation would work wonders for Viktor, and he’d additionally remove him as part of the competition. 

 

He watched him through slitted eyes, staring at the allegedly sleeping man. 

 

Jayce scanned his face, taking in his full eyebrows, his delicate skin, the dark purple bags under his elongated lashes, which fell on his cheek with a soft caress. Strands of hair spilled haphazardly around his face and his nose emerged from the dispersed fluff in a slim and straight line. His cheeks curved slightly inward, and… Those moles. 

 

Those damned moles. 

 

He remembered how often he’d spent staring at them, one moving with every shift of his lips like a constellation dancing with his self-expression. Jayce had always found them ridiculously distracting. As if there had been a beacon begging for attention, one that Jayce had always made a habit of slapping away.

 

Viktor's breathing was short and shallow, conjuring images of tiny wings fluttering in Jayce's mind. He appeared so docile and peaceful. It was achingly ironic. 

 

Viktor was like an alluring pitcher plant. 

 

When Jayce's gaze fell upon his lips, he noted that they were parted. Some drool had found its way down his jaw and into his arm, a darkened splosh in his shirt where it pooled. 

 

If this was a scheme, Viktor was definitely committing to the bit. 

 

Unfortunately, something inside Jayce wanted to soften, recalling all the times Jayce had reached out to him, awoken him, and ensured he wasn’t causing any further strain on his already aching limbs. Almost like second nature, his body remembered this dance.

 

The impulse was cut short when his chest began to crumble with the endless string of memories he had cursed to the seven hells. 

 

You’re so fucking pathetic.

 

And just like that, his anger was back in business. 

 

He separated the ‘stupid’ post-its from the bunch and quietly glued them to Viktor’s back, barely pressing down so as not to wake him– a row of yellow stark against the dark blue cotton of his vest. 

 

Jayce sneaked his way into the front of his desk once more and cleared his throat. 

 

Viktor mumbled incoherently in response. Jayce crossed his arms and blew out a heavy breath through his nose.

 

“Wake up.” 

 

The harsh command struck him, causing Viktor to jolt upwards, pencil flying toward the ceiling. A sheet of paper was stuck to the palm of his hand, and half of his face was plump with rosy undertones, harsh lines of his shirt now printed on his cheek from resting atop them for hours. 

 

His glassy eyes found Jayce. 

 

And for the first time, there was no hatred there, no arrogance, no bitterness. Just disorientation and quiet surprise. 

 

“Jayce?” His voice was cushioned with sleep, drowsy and rumbly. Jayce didn’t notice how his name hugged the roof of Viktor's mouth, or how he pronounced his vowels like he was unknowingly stroking them with his tongue.

 

It made the hairs in his forearms come to attention. 

 

“Trouble at home?” Jayce asked sarcastically. His cold demeanor brought Viktor back to the present, a frigid understanding seeping into his own linger. 

 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he retorted, a newfound detachment in the color of his voice. Jayce threw the post-its at his chest, and Viktor’s hand was swift to press them against his sternum.

 

“These belong to you.”

 

Viktor smirked, somnolence still clinging to him. “What an educational morning this must have been for you. Did you learn something new?”

 

Jayce let out a huff of air, a mirthless sound. 

 

“I learned that when I’m gone, you obsessively think about me.” 

 

It was a shot in the dark, an attempt to rile him up. But by the way his eyes widened, Jayce's mind tripped on itself. 

 

“Hopefully, you’ll find better usage of your precious time on the next go,” Jayce added, something inside him frantically searching for an out. The curve to Viktor's lips turned into something razor-edged.

 

“Your workspace is detestably bland, and it desperately needed improvement." Viktor stretched his arms above his head, and Jayce made a conscious choice not to avert his gaze. "But it's not just your workspace, is it?" 

 

Jayce scowled at Viktor's cold smirk.  

 

“You look like a slobbering idiot," Jayce decided to announce.

 

Viktor's brows knitted, and Jayce pointed at his own lower lip. With that, he spun around and walked away.

 

"Enjoy your day," Jayce voiced over his shoulder.

 

///

 

Jayce met up with Cait and Vi at The Last Drop a few hours after work. She’d sent him a thumbs up with the time meant for their rendezvous and he found that he had time to spare to stop by his apartment for a very much needed shower and a change of clothes. He opted for a wine colored V-shaped t-shirt that felt too tight on him, pressing against his stomach like it was on a mission to suction Jayce’s abdomen out. If he was being honest, he wasn’t particularly bothered. He paired it with some loose, dark jeans that tucked inward and over his black laced boots. As a finishing touch, he procured a belt and clasped his mother’s unostentatious pearl necklace, sleek with small beads.

 

He approached the mirror in his bathroom. Jayce had let his beard grow years ago, but for the first time in a while, it looked unkempt. He trimmed it slightly and let the strands of his hair dry where they saw fit. His eyes lowered to the base of his throat. The cream color of the beads contrasted with his darker skin tone, causing new memories to emerge. Memories he shook off.

 

By the time he arrived, Vi was arm-wrestling Sevika. Both women were smirking at each other, limbs trembling in a mortal clasp. Cait waved him over and he approached their table, already decorated with three jugs of beer, some chips, and green olives. 

 

“How long have they been stuck here for?” He asked as a way of greeting, kissing Cait on the side of her head. 

 

“I’ve lost count,” she admitted. She raised her eyes to his. “Listen-”

 

“Wait, let me get a drink first. I’ll be back.” 

 

Jayce scurried to the bar and ordered his own beer. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been out with the sole pretense of having a good time. Jayce wondered how one could miss something without being very aware of it. 

 

As he waited for his drink, the girl standing next to him began to make conversation. Something about the way she carried herself sparked Jayce's attention. There was an effortless grace to her movement, like a ribbon beautifully gliding in still water. Her cadence soothed him like a spoken lullaby, and yet there was no mistaking the fact that there was something utterly fierce about her character. 

 

Those two entrancing aspects about her seemed to dance, intertwine with each other effortlessly through her personality, and Jayce quickly found himself curious to befriend her. 

 

Her skin was red-brown ochre, and the golden freckles shimmering on her cheeks matched her feline eyeliner, as well as the multitude of clips circling the luscious braids cascading over her shoulders.

 

By the time his beer arrived, they were both enthusiastically immersed in conversation: where Mel was from (Noxus), why her girlfriend wasn’t here (she’d used the word ‘skittish’), and how she’d found herself in this particular pub. Only when he noticed his jug was half empty did he excuse himself to return to his table. 

 

"You should join us, later– if you'd like. You'd fit right in," he invited in earnest. Then he gave her a look. "But just after one conversation, I'm inclined to assume you'd know how to fit in pretty much anywhere." 

 

Her lips curved in a knowing smile. "It takes one to know one, Mr–" 

 

Jayce's hearing turned muffled as his past title slipped her lips. There was a wave of heat that flooded his senses, blurring the edge of his vision as memories swirled in his head, and a certain draw-back sizzled uncomfortably under his skin. In the span of a blink, the drop of sweat that had been innocently slithering down his nape became suddenly unbearable. 

 

It had been over a year since he'd been recognised.

 

Concern etched into Mel's expression. "I'm very sorry, I did not mean to bring you discomfort. I meant it as a compliment." 

 

Somehow, her gentle honesty brought Jayce back. "No, yes– sorry. It's just been... a while," he chuckled with an apologetic smile. 

 

"Believe me," Mel assured, placing a friendly hand on his forearm. "I know the pressures of public opinion. If you ever find yourself needing... someone who might understand, I'd be happy to help." 

 

Jayce was instantly flooded with a thousand questions. "You have to join us, now," he insisted, his inviting smile genuine anew. 

 

Mel's eyes darted somewhere behind him, an obvious interest woven into her studious expression. "Is she with your group?" 

 

Jayce followed the motion until his eyes landed on Sevika, who was already setting the pool table.

 

A grin curved his mouth. "Yes, yes she is," he offered in a low tone. He brought his attention back to Mel, mischief bubbling to the surface as he casually added, "I'd be more than happy to introduce you, if you'd like." 

 

That mischief seemed to mirror in the twinkle in her eye, which made Jayce want to laugh. "I might." She gave him a squeeze with the hand that was still softly resting against his forearm before she retracted it. "I just need to call my girlfriend first." 

 

Jayce gave her a nod. "Sure. You know where to find us." 

 

Mel stood to leave, possibly wanting to find a quieter environment. She looked at him for a moment and added, "Thank you. It's comforting to meet nice people after moving somewhere new. You're... kind to offer." 

 

His smile widened. Jayce leaned in as if he were sharing a secret, "You were kind first." 

 

And he meant the gratitude in his tone. Somehow, Mel had seen through him and immediately offered comfort, despite not having to do so in the slightest. 

 

He would have invited her anyway, considering she had been an interesting human being from the get-go. But even more so after such a gesture– they were hard to come by.

 

And even more so after witnessing her ardent interest in Sevika. Jayce was extremely curious to see that unfold.

 

Her smile was discreet, but beautifully genuine. With a parting nod, Mel turned around and headed towards the back door. 

 

Jayce took a sip of his beer as he swiveled to return to his table, only to collide with a small frame hovering behind him. Jayce choked on his drink and took a step back, immediately coughing up a lung. He straightened with a wheeze and opened his mouth to apologise profusely before honeyed eyes lashed to his, the words stuffing his windpipe into yet another chokehold. Jayce coughed anew, clearing the last of the liquid that had wanted to, mistakenly, travel into his lungs. 

 

Viktor was wearing a dark blue eyeliner that masterfully enhanced his cat-like features, which Jayce immediately thought was highly unfair. Jayce was struck with the immediate temptation to smudge that hard work into nothing.

 

Why couldn't he be a troll?

 

Jayce slapped himself inwardly. Being tipsy was no excuse to let unfathomable thoughts voice themselves into the microphone of his empty brain.

 

Viktor was the source of most of the entropy in his life.

 

Jayce was beginning to feel like a caged animal. Every time he let down his defenses and turned a corner lately, there he was. Waiting for him. A reaper in disguise, a shadow looming over the sharp corners of his mind, the ones he'd frantically chamfered in order to survive.

 

Fuck him, and his stupid eye liner.

 

His eyes had a mind of their own as they instinctively raked down Viktor’s figure, unpleasant in their intention. Yet, Jayce's attention grew its own whims when he realised Viktor was also wearing a low-cut, deep blue crop top. 

 

Jayce did a double-take.

 

Sweet mother of God. 

 

Were those… Two indents in the shape of a V… Trailing downward?

 

Jayce’s eyes snapped up, fully conscious that he’d just committed a sin. 

 

“I come in peace,” Viktor assured with a bored expression. He pointed behind him with his thumb, where Cait seemed to adorn an apologetic smile, followed by an I tried to tell you shrug. “I just want to catch up with my friends.” 

 

Jayce feigned a thinking expression, banishing to the confines of a void the memory of the first time he’d knowingly looked at Viktor as something other than a colleague. Away, satan.

 

His thoughts were giving him a whiplash so violent that Jayce considered banging his head against the wooden surface of the bar. Maybe that could help him think in a straight line. 

 

Viktor rolled his eyes at Jayce, who was rubbing his chin and looking into the distance like a character pulled out from a cartoon.

 

After a moment, he actually did consider his words. It wasn’t fair of Jayce to own public spaces, and just because Viktor was around, it didn’t mean he couldn’t still enjoy other people’s company. As much as he’d love to bash him, he found it distasteful in this particular setting where everyone just wanted to have fun. 

 

He let out a long breath.

 

“Okay,” he conceded. His voice dropped, and his lip curled around the sour taste coating his tongue. “Okay. But just so we’re clear, you and I? Not friendly. I have nothing to say to you.” 

 

“That's the best news I've heard all day,” Viktor deadpanned, clearly indifferent to Jayce's revulsion of him. Familiar irritation coiled in his gut. God, how was he so annoying so effortlessly? 

 

“I truly hope you trip on a loose cobblestone on your way home,” Jayce blurted out.

 

“I hope you crack your big fat head on an inevitable door frame and I get to be there for it,” Viktor quipped back without skipping a beat. 

 

Jayce nodded in understanding. “As long as we’re on the same page.” 

 

Jayce quickly realised he was going to have to ignore his blistering presence for the rest of the evening, and as he’d come to find out, putting in an effort to ‘avoid’ took its own toll. Jayce turned around to the barkeep once more, resigned to his circumstances.   

 

“Can I have three vodka shots, please?” 

 

“Make that five,” Viktor amended.

Notes:

TW: bullying, alcohol consumption

///

 

ooooOOOoooOOO a lil prelude to the next chapter. I think Imma start incorporating some flashbacks soon, i must share with you guys how different their dynamic used to be. if im suffering over this, youre coming with me

i also love how jayce pathetically covers his ears and proudly pronounces himself blind instead, like, bby girl... who are you trying to fool x)

btw no children by the mountain goats is totally their theme song for these chapters

thank you so much for taking the time to read my nonsense, and thank you so much for all of your kudos and comments ;') this community is so awesome

as always, any feedback or overall opinion is not only welcome, but deeply appreciated <3

HAPPY HOLIDAYS :D

Chapter 5: And what is it I'm doing, Dr. Talis?

Summary:

Viktor tries to reconnect with some long-lost friends. And Jayce only continues to push all the wrong buttons.

Notes:

TW IN ENDNOTES

I was very inspired by another fic for the post-its (and the petty vest hate), but I read it so many months ago and i can't find it. If anyone knows which one it is, please do send it my way so I can credit it 😭🫶

I have to thank TheSawJones for leaving such thought-out, beautiful comments, they honestly made my absolute day each time and inspired me to keep writing nonsense. I wasn't planning on having a Vik POV anytime soon but, you just got me giggling and kicking my feet so THANK YOU! (pls this note is in no way to add any sort of pressure, just as appreciation, do you monarch <3)

Viktor felt the tingles of inebriation far sooner than he’d anticipated he would. 

 

When Vi had sent him the invitation to join for a night out that afternoon, he had instinctively typed out a polite decline without so much as a second thought. 

 

But then his thumb had hovered over the sending button, seconds dragging into a momentary limbo of unrecognised uncertainty. He'd locked his phone then, giving himself a moment to reconsider. Yet before his device ever reached his pocket, he clicked his tongue with exasperation and made up his mind once more. Unlocked it. Stared at his screen anew. Hovered.

 

The truth was that Viktor had unexpectedly enjoyed spending time with Vi and Sevika when he’d found them in Jayce’s lab. The revelation had rendered him muddled. 

 

Of course, he had seen Sevika in other contexts since then, so there’d been an itching curiosity to witness her in an unguarded environment, anew.

 

Seven years ago, Viktor’s anger had been a driving force so blinding that it had corrupted everything it touched, wilting any and all associations with the source of his pain. Viktor’s mind had made choices of its own accord, and he’d curled in the passenger seat of a ripping strain that saw to his escape. Poisoning every droplet of water had been a necessary precaution to avoid stumbling into the temptation of crawling back to that euphony, echoing from a familiar well, begging him to have a drink. 

 

Perhaps, now in this context, Viktor had expected them to hold on to a similar sense of survivability composed of bitterness and disdain.

 

Instead, he’d found warmth, relief, recognition. It had baffled him. Viktor had never once considered that his absence could have any permeation into the lives of those around him. Growing up in Zaun had given him all of the necessary tools to cut lifelines loose, and seeing two people find themselves inherently reflected in his actions had felt… Strange. Comforting. Neither said a word about the topic, but Zaunites tended to have conversations with their mouths shut. 

 

Besides, if he was being candid, he owed Sevika a drink for being the main source of inspiration for his new idea regarding the crystal project. 

 

Viktor had briefly wondered if Jayce would be in attendance, but very quickly dismissed the thought. Why would Vi invite Viktor if he were, right? It was completely nonsensical.  

 

Well, as wonderful as non-conversations were between Zaunites, he made a mental note to actually ask next time, because Viktor now faced the solemn regret of every single one of his choices from the last twenty four hours: The Post-its, working late and falling asleep curled over a wooden surface, saying yes to Vi’s invitation. Every single one of those decisions had come back to bite him in the ass.

 

His lower back pinched in a familiar ache, ironically agreeing. He should not be sleeping over desktops; if any of his past doctors knew about it, they’d chew him up and spit him out. 

 

Luckily, the alcohol helped with the muscle tension and dulled most of his leftover pains, his body surfing the relaxing thrum. Unfortunately, it worsened other perceivable ticks inside his own body. They became much harder to ignore when he was under the influence. Viktor was thankful he was the only one privy to them. 

 

And then there was Jayce. 

 

Jayce fucking Talis. 

 

And even though Viktor had dealt with anger during many different circumstances of his life, Jayce had him under a frenzied spell where all he wanted to do was incessantly put him down like a rabid animal. For obvious reasons, but also others that seemed to stretch over Viktor’s consciousness and into the unreachable beyond. 

 

Yet one thing was clear: that man was nothing like the Jayce Talis he had once known.

 

Viktor couldn't make sense of the man he'd seen for the past couple of weeks. He was something almost made anew, with none of the spark from before, none of the innate curiosity, no apparent feelings peeking through the cuff of his sleeves. 

 

Except one. Rage. 

 

The worst of it had been that Viktor was glad. Rage, he could deal with. Rage, he had mountains to spare and return. And seeing Jayce embrace it and respond in kind only fed that starving beast. Rage was a language Viktor was proficient in and tearing into Jayce brought an insatiable sense of catharsis. Viktor was choosing not to question it further than that.

 

“So… You guys are still going at each other's throats, huh?” Caitlyn asked watchfully, bringing Viktor back to the present moment.

 

He was sitting at the table with Caitlyn and Vi, who had been immersed in conversation. Sometimes Viktor simply sat there, and even though he might not always be the most enthusiastic of participants, he found comfort in listening. The voices of people speaking around him allowed him to rest his mind, like a sort of white noise.

 

And there weren’t many people who genuinely got him to continuously blabber on. Viktor realised he had been staring daggers at one of them.

 

Jayce was enthusiastically chatting with a stunning girl, tall and slim, shimmering gold scattered across her smooth cheeks. Her long white dress hung to every curve in her body, golden accessories accentuating the dips of her waist. Every so often, she’d lean forward, graze Jayce’s forearm as they laughed. They were playing billiards with Sevika, who adorned a cigar in her mouth and a smile so sharp it threatened to slice anyone open, which meant she was having fun. They both took turns positioning themselves behind the woman to show her the best techniques in order to maximise her plays, chests against her naked back. 

 

Viktor sighed. “I tried to approach him with civility–” 

 

“Oh, we know.” Vi cut through, a laugh caught in her throat. Viktor studied her for a moment before continuing. 

 

“Well, there's no truce in sight.”  Viktor reached into his pocket and dropped several scrunched-up yellow balls of paper. 

 

He motioned to them with a tilt of his chin as an invitation. Caitlyn and Vi picked one each and began to unfurl them. 

 

“Those were decorating my back today.” 

 

Caitlyn was frowning, but Vi was rubbing her hand against her mouth, clearly attempting to hide a shit-eating grin. Viktor was glad to be fairly tipsy for this. 

 

"Is this... Your handwriting?" Caitlyn inquired, attempting to repress the twinkle in the corner of her mouth.

 

"Unfortunately so."

 

“How long?” Vi asked in a suffocated tone that she attempted to conceal with a clearing of her throat. Viktor pinched the bridge of his nose and massaged it lightly. 

 

“I started suspecting something was off on my bus ride home from work. I kept hearing snickering behind me and some teenagers were being awfully evident about the fact that I was the object of their attention. I honestly didn’t pay them much mind. Then, I passed by an elementary school on my walk to the grocery store and noticed that some children were ferociously coming out of their way to point at me and laugh. That one I found slightly more unnerving. Nobody really talks about how strangely targeting it feels to have kids follow you through a fence while screaming ‘stupid’ at the top of their lungs."

 

Vi snorted, and Viktor shook his head. He took a deep breath, the taste of alcohol bitter on his tongue. As he opened his mouth to proceed, Viktor attempted to fight a tilt that was trying to take over the corners of his lips, and failed. He circled his fingers around this cane, which was resting against the table, and began to scratch at an imperfection that wasn’t there.

 

"By the time I arrived at the grocery store, I might have been slightly, eh, on edge,” he muttered, his cheeks warming ever so slightly.

 

“Oh, no,” Caitlyn whispered, hands floating to cover her mouth with excruciating slowness, predicting. Viktor swallowed.

 

“The moment I heard another child laughing and turned to find them staring at me, I…" Viktor inhaled sharply. "Well, I began with questions about what was so deeply amusing. I’ll admit a part of me was genuinely curious. But the more I demanded to know, the harder he laughed, which only stoked my irritation. Before I knew it, I was speaking over his laughter, giving him a speech about cruelty in children and how often it is excused due to the fact that they are, well, children. It’s absurd because children are people! Future people we will all”- Viktor made an overemphasized circular motion with his index finger- ”have to collectively deal with. They are miniature-sized terrorists."

 

Viktor blew out a breath, his mouth melting into a grimace. "I’m not entirely sure what I said after that. I might have blacked out mid-rant. Let's assume it wasn’t pretty. Eventually, he started tearing up mid-laughter, the insidious creature, and his parents finally rushed over to haul him away. I, too, shamed them for their son’s manners."

 

And he had had no remorse about it. At first. 

 

"It wasn't until a guy smelling of marihuana and wearing a backwards cap approached me, picked one off my back and showed it to me with wary eyes that I came to.” 

 

Silence. 

 

And then Vi was howling, one hand wrapping around her stomach and another one slapping the table. The sound echoed in the entire pub and Viktor noticed faces turning their way. 

 

Unfortunately, that sound was so contagious he couldn't help but quietly join her as he dipped his head to hide the warmth scalding his cheeks.

 

Caitlyn had a palm to her forehead and kept shaking her head from side to side in disbelief. Her shoulders were bobbing up and down, and Viktor could hear her staggered inhales. 

 

“The worst part,” Viktor added between breaths. Just at those words, Vi roared anew. “The worst part was when the parents announced, with bewildered fury, I might add, that their child used laughter as a coping mechanism for nervousness. So the more I bore into him, the harder he laughed, and so the more I bore into him. It was truly mortifying.” Vi was clutching her abdomen, and Caitlyn was teetering between horror and amusement. Viktor pressed on. “Only to have the hat guy, who was definitely high by the way, give me his card at the end so I could give him a call if I ever needed something to help me chill .” Viktor used air quotes on that.

 

“Please, stop. My God, stop, stop,” Vi shrieked, eyes watering with effort. 

 

“I do not need to ‘chill ,’” Viktor grumbled stubbornly.

 

"He probably thought he was doing a public service at that point,” Caitlyn choked out, causing a powerful cackle to escape from Vi anew as she chuckled.

 

Jayce, Sevika and the third player had approached the table, expressions of confusion, concern, and amusement shone in their faces. 

 

“What is happening here?” Jayce asked with caution, eyes wandering around the table. Viktor noticed Jayce was actively avoiding him and that immediately pissed him off, so he had a mind to do the same.  

 

Vi balled the papers and threw them to him. 

 

“You're such a dick, dude!” She claimed with a grin, continuing to massage her stomach. Viktor couldn't help but smirk.

 

“Don't tell him!” Caitlyn begged her partner. “He hasn't earned the satisfaction.”

 

“What satisfaction?” Jayce was confused, as he always was. 

 

“If you’ll excuse me,” Viktor interluded, raising himself from the chair by leaning on his cane, the room tilting a little. He turned towards Sevika and pointed a finger in her direction. “Your next drink is on me.” 

 

“Now we're talking,” she grinned, deep satisfaction rumbling in her tone. Viktor snickered to himself at the lethal sight. She joined him as he approached the bar and ordered her drink of choice as well as a couple of extra shots for himself. 

 

When Viktor turned to head toward the back door, Sevika put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a swift and earnest squeeze. “It’s good to have you officially back.” 

 

The hidden meaning behind her words didn’t pass by unnoticed. He gave her a small smile, a nod, and headed outside.

 

When Viktor stepped into the cold air of the alleyway, mist swished and thickened the air around him as cats scurried back to their hiding spots. If it weren’t for the unrelenting clicking, it would have been deliciously quiet here. No car motors constantly rumbling by or incessant honking sounds. The Last Drop was in a pedestrian area, and now and then, laughter wafted by, or some jovial scream emerged from a distance. Overall, it was peaceful. He’d missed Zaun.

 

Viktor leaned against the wall, resting his head against the cold stone. The exhaustion and alcohol hit him all at once, and he was glad to be outside.

 

The door swung open and closed.

 

“You can’t do that,” Jayce snapped. 

 

Aaaand there went his peace.  

 

“You can’t just come back and do shit like that!” 

 

The words ringed between them, rattling the silence of an unspoken aftermath. Viktor dragged one eye open. Jayce towered over him, even from a distance. His rising and falling chest accompanied his shallow breaths and his hands were fisted at his sides. Great. 

 

“And what is it I’m doing, Dr. Talis?”

 

Jayce let out a slightly manic, mirthless laugh, shaking his head with clear exasperation. He took a step forward, a vicious edge to his posture. 

 

“And fuck you for calling me Dr. Talis.” There was that little finger of his again, slicing through the air only to stab in Viktor’s direction. Viktor had the urge to grab it and break it in half with a gratifying leer, and if it weren’t for the fact that there was nothing little about that condemnatory digit, Viktor would have. 

 

Alas, Jayce's hands were huge. Thick and sturdy and if Viktor didn’t know any better, he would have assumed Ares himself had passed them down to Jayce, to obliterate and destroy whatever crossed his path. Viktor wondered how easy it would be for them to crush his windpipe, and whether a single caress would do. 

 

But Viktor was too drunk to make himself forget what those squared, calloused monstrosities could actually accomplish. He had witnessed them at work, forging some of the most stunning craftsmanship he had ever seen. Jayce had always had the soul of an artist, and every piece he handcrafted had been painfully recognisable to Viktor as Jayce's work. Each build had been an undeniable fingerprint. It was ironic because just as Jayce used to sign every page of his notes, he unintentionally did so with his inventions just the same.

 

Even if solely for the fact that Viktor had never met anyone capable of designing such stunning pieces while enhancing functionality. Viktor had an aid at home to prove it.

 

Viktor lifted his gaze to Jayce’s.

 

“Is there something else you’d like me to call you instead?” He slurred. “Asswit? Cloud sniffer? Jackass? Moonlicker? What would you prefer?”

 

Jayce was slowly approaching him. 

 

“For you to have an off-button.” Jayces voice was trembling and Viktor smiled inwardly, prowling, ready to pounce. 

 

“How terribly convenient for you. I think I will pass," he bit out. Viktor leveled his stare. "You still haven’t answered my question. What are you accusing me of, exactly?” 

 

Jayce was before him now, five palms away, arms crossed over his chest. His body was like a storm made flesh, buzzing with an electricity that made the hairs in Viktor’s nape bristle.

 

“Pretending like you never left,” he venomously spat out. From this distance, he could see the slight gap between Jayce’s front teeth, one he only wanted to punch wider as of late. 

 

It was Viktor’s turn to laugh without any real emotion behind it. Jayce pursed his lips at the sound and briefly averted his gaze, like a coward. Viktor, seeing it as the opening that it was, moved. 

 

With a quick step forward and practiced precision, Viktor extended the tip of his cane and swept it low across Jayce’s ankles, hooking it just as he shifted his weight. The move was not about force, but calculative precision and physic mechanics. Viktor took advantage that Jayce had been caught off guard, and as he stumbled, Viktor yanked the cane with a sudden, sharp motion. Jayce was pulled off-center as his legs buckled, his torso tilting back. In the same breath, Viktor used the force of his trip to twist his own body, pulling the cane to the side to guide Jayce’s momentum. With one smooth pivot, Viktor leveraged the cane like a rudder, turning Jayce in a fluid arc. 

 

Viktor, still braced and fisting Jayce’s shirt, guided the movement of his body so that instead of falling to the side, Jayce’s back slammed against the wall he’d been leaning on with a harsh thud. A winded oof escaped Jayce's lips, and before he could make sense of what had just happened, they had switched positions and Viktor was snarling in his face. 

 

“Oh, I left alright.” Jayce was panting and his abdomen grazed Viktor's knuckles with each labored breath. He thanked the alcohol in his blood for numbing out any perception of potential heat pouring off of Jayce's body. Viktor did not want to feel that warmth ever again.  “And who do we have to blame for that?” Viktor sneered with calculated precision, face inches away from his.

 

Jayce flinched then, the words striking him like a punch to the face. His mask fell and shattered to the ground before Viktor. Dejected eyes searched Viktor’s expression, and Viktor knew then he'd shown too much.

 

“Viktor.” Jayce’s voice sounded as if it'd been pulled out of a dream, disoriented and without all of the bite from moments ago. Viktor didn't want to acknowledge the underlying devastation in Jayce’s intonation that threatened to drown them both. 

 

Viktor also became highly aware of the fact that that had been the first time Jayce had said his name since he’d returned. Too much, it was too much. 

 

In equal frustration, he refused to have this conversation. Viktor staggered backwards, releasing Jayce as if he’d been burned, putting as much space between them as he could with a few steps.

 

“No.” The word reverberated low in Viktor's throat, a promise and a threat as much as a conclusion to their conversation. 

 

Jayce could rot in hell. 

 

Viktor pivoted to walk away, but before he left, he couldn’t help it. He turned sideways. 

 

“Those are your mum’s,” he nodded toward Jayce’s necklace. “I remember her wearing them. She looked incandescent anytime she got to put them on, they brought her so much joy every time.” His lips tilted fondly before he found himself glaring at Jayce once more. “Why did you accept them from her, you cuck?” 

 

Jayce didn’t respond. He simply stared and stared, his puffs ragged in his throat. Viktor shook his head, disappointment tasting like metal in his mouth. 

 

“I’m leaving. Say goodbye to the others for me.” 

 

On the cab ride home, Viktor thought of Ximena and her pearls, he thought of Sevika and her cigar, he thought of Caitlyn and her suffocated sort of laughter. Anything to distract himself from the look in Jayce’s eyes when he’d mentioned he was leaving.

 

Notes:

TW: alcohol consumption

///

Viktor could trip me up and make me face plant and id say thank you.

fyi the grocery store incident might be the stupidest thing ive ever written x)

this is the most I have ever written within one story and my palms are sweaty moms spaghetti

Thank you guys so much for the comments and the lovely kudos', as always, you're all so awesome. Thanks for joining me on this lil adventure :)

As always, any feedback and/or overall opinion is not only welcome, but deeply appreciated <3

Chapter 6: (F) Wanna go get dessert?

Summary:

Viktor and Jayce meet for the first time.

Notes:

the science is being pulled out of my ass so, you know, continue at your own peril

For some detestable reason, it was customary for PhD students to gather on the first day, grab lunch together, and get acquainted. 

 

Of course, Viktor did not want to go. 

 

He suspected he would have nothing in common with this particular group of people. People who had grown up around birthrights and trust funds. People who could afford to go to one of the most prestigious academies in the Shuriman continent without giving it much thought, when he’d fought tooth and nail for the simple privilege of being alive.

 

They all looked the same. They fashioned the same haircuts, wore the same expensive brands, and spoke with identical cadence and unoriginality. Diversity here was clearly a concept for either the attention-seeking or the poor.

 

And they were insufferably arrogant.

 

Viktor was making an effort to tilt his lips, be polite and nod along to whichever conversation was taking place. He did so because he couldn’t afford to jeopardize his scholarship, and he had yet to discover how his social interactions might affect the academy’s willingness to continue to offer him this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. As all things seemed to go whenever money was involved, connections and other people’s opinions of him played a part in which offers were granted his way. 

 

Viktor despised it. What an idiotic system, constructed to pump the resources back into the same group of undeserving people, over and over again. 

 

And, by God, was he bored. 

 

It hadn’t been as much of a surprise as it had been a disappointing confirmation to find that the leaders of tomorrow were a bunch of witless, obnoxious, power-hungry, money-driven, painfully entitled, loathsome wanna-be's. 

 

Viktor found himself sitting on the far end of a big, rectangular table in the canteen, listening to a conversation about how these brainless twats believed that the Piltovian government had had their reasons for exploiting Zaun’s resources for most of their neighbouring history. It hadn’t been until twenty-five years ago, when the independence of Zaun had been signed, that the relationship between the two nations had begun to heal. Somewhat. 

 

The liberation from Piltover had been fairly recent, and that was evident in their chosen topics of conversation.

 

It was gut-wrenching to see that people like this existed. That they sat in positions of real power. That they would speak so openly about their discrimination and other backwards perspectives, without shame or filter. That everyone solemnly nodded along, but nobody contradicted them.

 

Midst conversation, Viktor noticed that the other end of the table had gone quiet, tuning in to the ongoing debate occurring on his side. Don’t bother, he wanted to tell them. 

 

Momentarily, he sensed a fleeting gaze lingering on his face from across the table. He paid it no mind. Then it happened again. Once. Twice. The third time, Viktor glanced back at the source of these rapid stares and found one of the students gaping, his mouth silently open in quiet shock. 

 

He wasn’t staring at Viktor per se, but ogling each person at the table, searching each face individually for something Viktor couldn’t quite place. The boy whispered a question to the person sitting next to him, who nodded gravely at him. At that, his jaw slackened even further, complete disbelief striking his features with a slap of reality. 

 

Viktor was surprised to find so much expression on his features. He seemed to be making no effort to conceal any of his thoughts, which was perplexing.

 

The man was tall and broad-shouldered, towering those sitting next to him, his physical build filling out his crimson colored hoodie. His dark hair was cut into a fade at the sides, yet the top had been left to grow and was neatly styled with a slight wave. His skin was sun-kissed, his jawline strong and squared, his cheeks hollowed inwardly. 

 

His eyes, like the rest of his face apparently, were sharp and unexpectedly transparent. Viktor couldn’t quite make out their color from all the way across the table, but the effort was minimal considering the fact that that was information he had any interest in, if he were to be candid.

 

They fell on him again, sensing Viktor’s attention on his person. The student did a double-take, actually confirming that Viktor was, in fact, staring back. 

 

Discomfort took over, prompting Viktor to look away. He had no interest in making friends and didn’t want to send any mixed messages, let alone to anybody at this table. 

 

He attempted to tune back into the conversation and regretted it immediately. Some dumb shit was defending a politician that had raided Zaun way-back-when, killing hundreds of Zaunites for the sake of some coal and natural minerals. It had been a barbaric affair, a display of power and control, and it was a gaping wound in Zaun’s history that had never truly healed.

 

The fleeting glances were back. 

 

Viktor watched the man from his peripheral vision and finally caught on to what was going on. 

 

The guy was horrified. He was searching every face in the room for anyone else to show any sign of perturbation, alarm, distress, stupefaction, repugnance, or disbelief. All feelings that were openly shown in his own peer, in his knitted brows, in the tension of his shoulders, in the slack mandible, in the disapproving shake of his head. 

 

Viktor realised he had been staring again when the man gave him a secondary glance once more, perceiving Viktor’s attention. After a moment of locking their gapes, the man’s eyes pointed to the idiot speaking next to Viktor, and he jiggled his head as if saying Is this guy for real?  

 

And Viktor couldn’t help it. The corners of his mouth began to draw upwards, a feeling reaching up his torso and filtering into his eyes. 

 

The gesture was mirrored from across the table. 

 

Both men looked away once more, attempting to keep the smiles to themselves so as not to raise uncomfortable questions. 

 

The next time the blubbering jackass said something profoundly disturbing, Viktor’s gaze immediately collided with the strangers, both pulled toward the other like two opposing magnets searching for their counterpart. It was astounding to consider that, without having exchanged a single word, both had designated the other as a source of comfort and solidarity while they came to terms with the understanding of the situation at hand. 

 

A volatile shrug. Another mirrored tug of lips. This time, neither looked away. They stared into one another as the idiot continued to speak, regurgitating propaganda as if it were his own intellectual reasoning. 

 

As he proceeded to fervently defend his bigotry, enunciating with the misplaced conviction of being the most important man in the room, their focus remained fixed on each other. And, in a sort of incomprehensible moment, Viktor knew they were of one mind.

 

Inconceivable confirmation followed as both of their expressions began to grow– simultaneously. 

 

The tug turned into a smirk, which then unfurled into a massive smile, and before Viktor knew it, they were laughing. Just the two of them, amidst twenty other people, one at each end of the table. Laughter evolved into cackling, the sound of the others' discombobulation feeding into their howling. 

 

It all felt so profoundly unreal and absurd. 

 

The conversation was abruptly interrupted. Students turned to each other, whispering and wondering what was so funny, while others studied them in judgmental quietude. Viktor just shook his head, and the stranger reiterated the gesture. 

 

After the lunch, as Viktor was exiting the canteen, the student was leaning against the wall facing the door, one knee bent against it, and his hands tucked inside the pockets of his black jeans. 

 

“Hey!” He called out to Viktor. He took a couple of tentative steps and approached the man. 

 

“Hello.” 

 

They gawked vacantly at each other in an outstretched moment of quiet, a smile still pulling at their lips.

 

“I can’t believe we just sat through that,” the guy stated with a chuckle. His words were laced with incredulity, and shock was still painted across his features. 

 

“Yes,” Viktor nodded. “That was... brutal.” 

 

They stood in silence, both fidgeting and scanning other students roaming around them with hurried steps. Viktor couldn’t describe what came over him in that moment, being completely unprepared for further social interactions, to voice a proposition. 

 

“Wanna go get dessert?”

 

The stranger sighed with relief. “God, yes.”

 

He pushed himself off the wall, and both turned to head out in tandem. 

 

“Wait, I don’t even know your name.” Amused, he paused and stretched out his hand. “I’m Jayce,” he grinned.

 

Viktor returned the gesture, the corner of his mouth slightly kicking up as if, once more, infected by his self-expression.

 

“Viktor.”

 

Hazel. His eyes were hazel. 

 

///

 

“So, what’s the idea? I don’t think I follow,” Viktor admitted, brows scrunched as he attempted to make sense of what Jayce was thinking for his PhD project. Viktor took a spoonful of his ice cream and lifted it to his tongue. Sugary and delicious, his usual preference in a single cup of glory. 

 

“I’m not sure yet,” Jayce confessed with his mouth full. He swallowed before continuing. “But I have been tinkering with some designs for a motor that would, technically, be able to continuously purify air. That was my proposition, at least. My dad was a blacksmith, a trait he passed on to me, thankfully. And every time I go to the smithy, I feel like I’m suffocating.”

 

Viktor gave him a pointed look.

 

“Well, I imagine it’s hot. Hard to breathe when the air going into your lungs is burning its way there.” 

 

Jayce laughed openly and surprise struck Viktor anew. He’d never met someone so transparent with his feelings and reactions and… So painfully genuine. 

 

“Of course, genius. But it’s more than that. So many dust and metal particles get swished around in there. The other day I blew my nose and it came out black.” He made a face. Jayce took another spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. “I think I can find a way for a rotating machine to continuously collect them so I can dispose of them safely and avoid breathing in that sort of stuff. It’s not much, but it’s what I’m working on at the moment.” Jayce licked his utensil. 

 

“Do you have something I can look at?” 

 

“Um. Oh, yes! Actually, I do.” Jayce placed his ice cream cup on the table and reached into his backpack, retrieving a blue colored notebook. His attention returned immediately to his dessert, shoving more of it into his mouth. He didn’t swallow before speaking. “It’s the yellow divider.”

 

Viktor began to read and read and tried his best not to let his astonishment show on his face. It was… Sound. Extraordinary, even. The way Jayce had designed it, metal or dust were just some of the things the machine could be trained to pick up. With some tweaks and new ideas, it could have the potential to absorb any contamination present in any room. As Jayce had outlined it, it was to be stored in wet wipes that could later be burned and completely dissolved without a trace. The mixture of the solvent and this tissue rendered the pollution non-existent, which is what made it safe to burn and swish – just like that, gone. Viktor hadn't known such a thing existed. Or could even exist.

 

“So?” Asked Jayce, picking and ripping the tags glued to his ice-cream cup. “What do you think?”

 

“Shush, I’m busy.” The response from Viktor was automatic, and a part of himself froze. But Jayce just chuckled and said fine, fine , allowing Viktor to revisit Jayce’s notes.

 

Viktor didn’t know for how long he sat there. Halfway through his studying, he peeked at Jayce, who seemed completely lost as he glanced around the shop, blowing raspberries every so often. At times, he fleetingly eyed Viktor's abandoned ice cream. Eventually, Viktor shoved the cup in his direction and internally softened when Jayce lit up and happily devoured his newly conquered dessert. 

 

“I hate this,” Viktor hissed. Jayce sat up with a jolt, concern deeply etched into his brow and sea green eyes. He had rings and speckles of amber in them, too, which had led Viktor to conclude that they shifted depending on the light and how it filtered through them. 

 

“What, what? Which part?” Viktor turned the notebook towards Jayce and alluded dramatically to the bottom of the folio, his brows drawing a high arch. 

 

“Do you really have to sign every page?” Jayce laughed with relief. Viktor gave him a loop-sided smile. “It’s a little egotistical, don’t you think?” 

 

“Takes an insufferable man to recognise another,” Viktor smirked. Touché.  

 

“Have you considered expanding on this idea?”

 

Jayce lifted a brow and tilted his head.

 

It was, unfortunately, considerably… cute. 

 

“What do you have in mind?” 

 

“To be honest, I think this could actually help a lot of people. I believe it could be possible to implement a logic circuit, one that will allow the machine to differentiate between types of pollution. Perhaps even allow for a back-and-forth conversation. I could make a program or an app to record data collection. Some examples off the top of my head could be particulate matter levels, for instance. In-time air quality analyses, health risk assessments and in-time alerts, long-term trend studies... Plus, if we use a sucking device instead of just a rotative appliance, we could clean pretty much… Any environment? I’m not sure, but we could test it.”

 

When Viktor searched for Jayce, he found him gaping at him. Warmth crept up to his cheeks.

 

“I mean, it’s your project, my apologies. I didn’t mean to take over your child,” he rushed to clarify, chuckling. Viktor’s fingers traced the lines of one of the drawings Jayce had made of the potential invention. He drew a breath. “But I can’t help but think that if I’d had something like this around growing up, I might not have been stuck with a degenerative lung disease.” He grimaced. And then, realised what he’d just said. Viktor tensed and his body clammed up. He wasn’t one to share his personal affairs, but… The confession had poured out of him so effortlessly that he found himself suffering a sense of whiplash. He swallowed.

 

“Viktor, do you have a lab partner?” Jayce’s voice was serious and deep. Viktor looked up at him.

 

“No?”

 

“Wrong answer. This is no longer my baby, this just became our baby.” He stretched his hand out and Viktor shook it tentatively, rigidity melting away and giving room to a confused mirth that bubbled to the surface. 

 

“Congratulations, it's a hypothetical invention.” 

 

Jayce was grinning at him, his face radiating with unfiltered joy as if Viktor had spoken some sort of magic words. It was like staring into sunshine, and the world seemed to tilt on itself. “Now, let’s go help some people, shall we?” Jayce stood abruptly, and Viktor giggled as he leaned on his cane and followed. Familiar pains were nipping, squeezing his knee and pinching his spine. But funnily enough, for once, Viktor felt rather weightless. 

 

“Fuck, yeah. Let’s.”

Notes:

my babiieeeeeeeeees :'D demisexual viktorrrr les go 8)

fun fact, the canteen scene was pulled from my own life, that's how I met my (ex) best-friend. Those snobs were defending HITLER guys, it was truly horrifying to witness. And it was very satisfying to laugh in their faces and kill their stupid ass conversation

Thank you so much for reading!!!! <3 As always, any feedback and/or overall opinion is not only welcome, but deeply appreciated <3

Have a great day!

Chapter 7: (F) Of course you're secretly a pervert.

Summary:

Viktor and Jayce start getting to know each other.

Notes:

TW IN ENDNOTES

terrible science again x) let's just assume terrible science always from here on out c:

A super special thanks to @Cherrycrush28, who went through the trouble (and to my absolute delight) to comment on each chapter so far with their hilarious thoughts, beautiful feelings and genuine support. It honestly was like I was being showered in sunshine :') It was an awesome and unexpected motivation to keep going. Thank you!!! (again, not meant as pressure, but appreciation only <3)

“So, what kind of girls do you usually like?” Jayce asked on a random Wednesday. 

 

A few weeks back, Jayce and Viktor had stormed into the scheduled meeting in Dr. Heimerdinger's office with an itch they couldn’t shake off and begged him to allow them to work together on their doctoral project. They knew they came from different fields, Jayce having a degree in mechanical engineering and Viktor a double bachelors in physics and computer science, but they were adamant that they could apply both their backgrounds to reach a common goal. 

 

Dr. Heimerdinger was ecstatic about their drive and electric enthusiasm, and after reading their proposal, he wasted no time in drafting the necessary arrangements to make it happen.  

 

Which is how Jayce and Viktor were granted access to their private, personal lab within Academy grounds. Despite diving in without knowing much about each other, Viktor had the unfamiliar feeling of having known Jayce for eons. 

 

But it was questions like that that reminded him nothing could be farther from the truth.

 

Viktor was soldering a transistor into the printed circuit board he was crafting for their invention and instinctively froze upon hearing his query.

 

Jayce was poised behind him, peeking over Viktor's shoulder to observe him at work. He did so quite often, and even though Viktor found it perturbing and rattling at first, a previous sense of scrutiny causing his nape to burn, he’d grown accustomed to having to tell Jayce off for casting a looming shadow over his station.

 

Jayce was a comfortable presence that had slipped through the cracks of Viktor’s defenses. He didn’t know how or why, but he also hadn’t felt the urge to undo it. Jayce felt familiar, his mind naturally inclined to fill in the gaps of knowledge that Viktor’s own mind couldn’t reach, and vice versa. 

 

Besides, this project… It was beyond anything Viktor had ever worked on before, and bringing ideas to life with someone as ambitious and efficient, someone who could be considered an equal, was beyond exhilarating.

 

Which was also a first.

 

As someone who’d always embraced his own solitude and the simple fact that he worked best alone, Viktor was tasting companionship for the first time and still apprehensively awaited to see whether an indigestion would inevitably follow suit. 

 

Viktor resumed his work before responding. 

 

“And what makes you so certain I like girls?” 

 

“Oh.” 

 

There was an awkward pause but Viktor did not want to turn around to face him. The obviously, unquestionably straight Jayce. 

 

“Don’t worry,” Viktor added in a light tone. “You’re perfectly safe. Just because you happen to be a man doesn’t mean I have any intentions of ravishing you.” 

 

“Oh, no, I didn-”

 

“Yes, you did. I can hear the cogs in your brain rattling from here.”

 

Jayce let out a belly laugh, tension diffusing into nothing. “Not at all, my sister is also gay!” 

 

“Good for her,” Viktor offered with a limp smile. Wait- He put his tools down, lifted his circular safety goggles, and swiveled in his chair to look up at Jayce, who was still hovering behind him like a giant wall turned to flesh. “You have a sister?” 

 

“Yeah. Well, no– it’s complicated. In summary, yes.” Viktor snorted before turning his attention back to his work.

 

The silence dragged on and he could sense it, the new question bubbling like a volcano shaking the earth before erupting. 

 

“So, what kind of guys do you usually like?”

 

Viktor’s saliva caught in his throat and disloyally travelled down the wrong canal, which caused an impromptu coughing fit. Jayce patted him tenderly, his hand occupying most of Viktor’s back. He had been doing so more oftenly, especially when Viktor had his attacks. 

 

“What is it with all these questions today?” Viktor wheezed. 

 

“I don’t know,” Jayce responded with amusement. “I thought, since we’re spending so much time together, it couldn’t hurt to get to know each other a little bit more.”

 

“Clearly, it can,” Viktor croaked, still coughing up half a lung. Jayce cackled and it was not lost on Viktor that his hand was now doing circular motions between his shoulder blades in a soothing rub. Viktor wondered if Jayce was even aware.  

 

“Come on,” he whined. “Indulge me?” 

 

Viktor finished clearing his throat, his lungs ablaze after the straining episode. He was going to be in pain over that for the rest of the day, unfortunately. He turned to face Jayce yet again. 

 

“Fine,” Viktor conceded, his throat raw. “If you must know, I don’t have a usual type.” Jayce gaped at him before a venomous smile curled in his mouth as he leaned forward. 

 

“Liar.” 

 

The accusation was low and raspy in his voice, his hazel eyes glowing green today. Putting Viktor in the hot seat was a delightful pastime for Jayce, and even though it had the potential to be annoying at times, it was mostly sort of endearing.

 

Especially because it came from Jayce, and the man looked like the kind who would have a hard time hurting a fly.

 

“I am many things,” Viktor promised with a non-commited shrug. “But a liar is not one of them. What I mean to say is, I don’t have a physical type. Usually, I only feel attraction when I enjoy people’s company. Bodies are just bodies; they come and go, all different shapes and sizes, a commonality for us all. It’s a rather unimpressive attribute. None of us gets to choose our height, our build, the color of our eyes, the amount of hair we grow… Our genes, overall. Case in point,” he gestured to his cane. Jayce frowned, but Viktor pressed on. “However, minds? Authenticity? Integrity? Intelligence? Choice of being?” Viktor smirked then, mischievousness flooding his gaze. “Now, that entices me.” 

 

Jayce was staring at him again, puzzle pieces finding their rightful place behind his pupils. He cocked his head in consideration.

 

“You know what, that makes a lot of sense. It’s like when you meet someone and after having an enjoyable conversation with them, you start noticing that they’re actually way cuter than you’d originally thought.”

 

Viktor chuckled and spun back around. “You get the gist.”

 

Dropping his goggles back into his eyes, Viktor resumed his work. After a palpable beat, he inhaled deeply. “What about you? Any particular types I should keep an eye out for?” 

 

Jayce didn’t respond right away, so Viktor let him ponder while he plodded away. 

 

“I’m not entirely sure,” he finally admitted. “I’ve never been very good at knowing what I like or what I want. So far, people have just… Come my way, I guess.”

 

Viktor snorted. “I’m sure they have.”

 

Yet something inside Viktor thawed. He patted the hand that was now casually resting on his shoulder, seeping warmth into his very bones, and softened his tone. “That’s okay, you know? There’s no expiration date for discovering yourself. You’ll figure it out, eventually.”

 

Jayce hummed non-committedly.

 

After another prolonged moment of quiet drudgery, Viktor finally asked. “Don’t you have work to do?” 

 

Jayce snickered. “Watching you work is so soothing, though.” It was Viktor’s turn to hum away. 

 

Jayce’s voice was but a low murmur when he wondered, “Does it bother you?” 

 

“No,” Viktor confessed with equal quiet, even surprising himself with how genuinely he meant it. “You can stay.”

 

Jayce’s fingers twitched before he gave Viktor a light squeeze. 

 

“Thanks.” 

 

/// 

 

“I can’t believe we have to go to this stupid event with these stupid people,” Jayce groaned a couple of weeks later, attempting to tame his wavy hair in a mirror they’d hung on the wall.  

 

They’d both decided to stop by the lab before going down to the party in the main hall, Viktor itching to advance on the lines of code he’d begun to write for their prototype. They were already late. 

 

Viktor closed his laptop and begrudgingly stood. His knee was an extreme nuisance today, and as much as he would’ve loved to skip the torturous social affair, it was unfortunately not an option. 

 

He approached Jayce, who was wearing a black suit that fit him like a glove. His pants were molded to his body, and Viktor awoke to the fact that he’d never realised how slim Jayce’s waist was, the power emanating from his thick thighs, or how perky other sides to him seemed to be. His white shirt had a couple of buttons loose, letting his chest peek through the lapels of his attire. Viktor also made the effort and failed to ignore the short body hair emerging and climbing from within. 

 

His wooden cane groaned when he shifted his weight to lean on it as he planted himself somewhere behind Jayce. He found Viktor’s eyes in the mirror, his eyebrows pinching together in slight concern. 

 

“That thing is gonna snap any day now,” Jayce warned.

 

Viktor shrugged. “It’s fine.” 

 

Still, Jayce studied him, knowing eyes that were learning how to read him better by the day. Viktor found it slightly disconcerting that Jayce was paying enough attention to record all of Viktor’s microexpressions (or lack thereof). Viktor found comfort in being a blank slate to the naked eye, and yet Jayce had effortlessly learned to scan in-between the lines for most of the time. It was unnerving, to say the least.

 

“Why don’t you get a new one?” Jayce asked casually.

 

Viktor lowered his gaze, eyes dropping to his mobility aid. 

 

“Oh, eh.”

 

Cause’ I can’t afford one. 

 

Viktor jerked his head upright and feigned offense. “Hold on now, are you suggesting you have a personal vendetta against Mr. Stiff here?” 

 

Jayce looked aghast. He turned around to face Viktor.

 

“Mr. Stiff?”

 

Viktor couldn’t hold in his laughter at Jayce’s bemusedly horrified expression. His brows were highly arched, stretching into his hairline. His nostrils had slightly flared and both his eyes and mouth were wide.

 

Vikor bit his bottom lip. “You know, Cain is considered to be the first murderer, right? To stiff someone is also the act of killing, so… Cain, get it?” Jayce let out a huff and raised a palm over his eyes, shaking his head disapprovingly despite adorning a broad grin. “It’s also stiff because it’s made out of wood,” Viktor added with a smirk, and that got Jayce to erupt into a stupidly endearing laughter that echoed through the lab and shook Viktor's insides. 

 

“Of course you’re secretly a pervert,” Jayce chuckled, taking a couple of steps towards him and recomposing his breath. “Please, promise me you’ll never say those words aloud again. Nobody needs to suffer what I just have.” 

 

Viktor giggled, a sound that he’d come to discover only ever came out around Jayce Talis. His lab partner (as Jayce always introduced them), still smiling and shaking his head, pointed to Viktor’s tie. 

 

“It’s crooked. May I?” 

 

Viktor tried to peer down but quickly realised how inefficient that approach was going to be. If he wanted to fix it himself, he’d have to find somewhere he could support himself with the way his knee was knock knock knocking today. So, he lifted his eyes back to Jayce, who stood expectantly with one eyebrow raised in question.

 

“Um. Sure.” 

 

Jayce neared Viktor, his fingers stretching to his neck. Viktor held his breath, suddenly hit by the realisation of how intimate this moment was. Jayce’s face was still relaxed, beaming and moving with his head from side to side. 

 

“Mr. Stiff,” he snickered to himself. “Remind me to never allow you to name any of our inventions.”

 

Viktor smiled inwardly at the natural use of the plural noun.

 

His powerful fingers carefully, oh so carefully, straightened Viktor’s knot, gently sliding it towards the base of his throat. At this distance, Viktor could feel some warmth stretching his way from Jayce’s body, but he paid it no mind. Jayce’s knuckles were faintly brushing soft skin as he wiggled the neckwear into place. 

 

Viktor kept his mind blank. 

 

“There,” said Jayce with a final tug and a victorious gleam. “Now you can finally say you look presentable.”

 

“This will ruin my reputation,” Viktor replied, peer glazed in soft consideration.

 

Then, he lightly shoved Jayce with a smile, putting some necessary distance between them, and began to head toward the door. 

 

“Urgh,” Jayce groaned again, rubbing his face.  “I don’t know if I can do this.” 

 

Viktor turned sideways and regarded his friend.

 

“Sure, you can. Nod, smile, ask questions– people seem to like that. We can stay until Heimer greets us and watches us mingle for a while, and then we can quietly slip out.” 

 

“But I don’t have anything in common with them,” he whined childishly. Viktor rolled his eyes, but gave him a soft smile. Annoyance flared in Jayce’s gape. “Do you know the first conversation I ever had with one of the other students on the very first day? The first thing I was ever told within the confines of these walls. You’ll never guess.” 

 

“Enlighten me.” 

 

“After hello, the question that followed wasn’t how are you , or where are you from , or what’s your name, no. The words that came out of his mouth were ‘and where do you usually hunt? Your estate?’” Jayce pulled a face of absolute repugnance and Viktor dropped his own jaw. “Can you fucking believe that? What kind of a question is that?!” 

 

“That’s borderline abusive, that is.” 

 

“Don’t laugh at me!” Jayce protested as Viktor’s mirth escaped him in huffs.

 

He approached Jayce and found himself squeezing his forearm, for some reason. It felt rather out of character for him, and yet entirely natural all the same.

 

“I’m honestly not. These people are just so detached from reality that I either find humor in it or crawl into a hole and let myself rot there. And we have far too much work to do for that to be an option, right?”

 

Jayce closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Another. Nodded solemnly. “Right.”

 

His eyelids fluttered open and he found Viktor once more, patiently waiting, his grip an anchor on Jayce’s forearm. “Nod, smile, ask questions.”

 

“Atta boy.” 

 

And so they did.

 

It didn’t take long for Viktor to note that Jayce was a natural. Sometimes his nervousness would peek through, but Viktor wondered if he noticed only because he had begun to understand Jayce’s micro tells, as well. Jayce’s anxious demeanor would cause him to overcompensate, which Viktor was not complaining about because it meant he could lie back and let his lab partner dominate the interactions with impressive ease.

 

The night went on without much to report on. An hour after they ‘accidentally’ stumbled into Dr. Heimerdinger and made some memorable small talk, they snuck out and ventured into the gardens of the Academy.

 

Like all other aspects of the institution, it was lavish and grand, imposing in its splendor. Both Jayce and Viktor had had a couple of drinks and were adamant about sneaking behind some bushes to search for an exit.

 

They were tipsy enough to believe they were being inconspicuous when a male voice yelled in their direction. 

 

“Is that for us?” Jayce whisper-shouted. 

 

“I don’t know,” Viktor whisper-shouted back. “But we’re almost out of here, come on, don’t look back.” 

 

“OI! CRIPPLE BOY!” 

 

“Okay, yes, that’s definitely for us,” Viktor whisper-shouted again, chuckling to himself. 

 

It had been over a decade already since Viktor had found no offense to people’s stupidity. Or better yet, he found offense, he simply didn’t really care to let it affect him anymore. Growing up in Zaun had been merciless, especially after jumping from one foster home to another, switching schools every couple of months. Kids were socially cruel in ways that no adult could truly replicate.

 

He’d very quickly come to terms with the bitter truth: there was nothing he could do to keep things like this from happening. His conditions were a reality that would accompany him for life, and thus inevitably, moronic people would be drawn to him by perceiving him as an easy target. Wasn’t that what this infernal systemic indoctrination constantly reinforced and demanded of us? Find power where you can in the hierarchical layers that divide us, seize it for yourself, allow it to shape you into a higher layer.

 

So, if pea-sized-brained, desperate individuals made the mistake of seeking Viktor for a way to pitifully boost themselves, they had every right to be imbecilic aloud and face whatever consequences came their way.

 

Viktor always had better things to do than give a fuck.

 

But when he glanced back in search of Jayce, he was no longer crouching and nipping at his heels. He had straightened to his full stature, planted his feet, and might rippled from his every labored breath.

 

Viktor could only see his back, shoulders squared and tense, and he hated to admit that even Viktor's body understood the sense of peril that emanated from watching this man rise to every inch of his colossal build.

 

Jayce’s attention was locked somewhere behind them. 

 

“What the fuck did you just say?” Jayce snarled with a rough voice.

 

A blonde guy came into view, his hair to the length of his shoulders, tight pants, and sockless footwear, his striped shirt tucked into his pants and his jacket flung over his shoulder.

 

God, just his presence was abhorrent.

 

The student smirked. 

 

“He heard me. Didn’t you, cripple boy? Thought you’d be gone by now.” 

 

And everything happened so fast after that. 

 

One second, Jayce was next to him. The next, there was a loud crack and a howl of pain coming from blondie. 

 

Viktor gaped, paralysed in place. 

 

Did-

 

Was th-

 

Yup.

 

Jayce had just totally punched that guy. 

 

“You asshole!” The guy screamed, clutching his nose with nothing but terror coating his wide eyes. “What is wrong with you?! Aren’t you one of us? You’re going to get expelled for this!” 

 

Viktor sighed, shaking the shock from his system. He straightened and strode to stand next to Jayce, who was panting, and his teeth were pressing together so hard Viktor thought they might crack. 

 

“No. He’s not,” Viktor amended calmly.

 

He leaned on his cane stoically and gave the boy a bored glance over, up and down, a disgusted curl in his upper lip. Viktor let every ounce of repugnance show in his leer, which confidently locked with the boy’s confused one. Viktor drew a razor-edged tilt to his lips and watched the boy's throat bob.

 

“Here’s how this is gonna go, you insolent snow-piss. You will say nothing about this to anyone. You see this?" Viktor curtly gestured to his brace with his chin. The boy stole fleeting glances at his knee as he fidgeted in place.

 

Viktor slowly leaned forward, his venomous smile curling with satisfaction. “I can break my knee in two without much of a struggle."

 

His sharp gasp of disbelief only concurred to Viktor that the guy was, to no one's surprise, an astronomical idiot. Perfect.

 

"I will crawl into the Dean’s office, with whom we have a close connection with in case you haven’t heard, and I will convince him you did it. I will spin a tale so foul that no self-respecting institution will ever accept your application again. Your name will be forever stained as the guy who unprovokedly attacked a handicapped student and broke him in half." 

 

Viktor let the words settle before he continued, casualty threading his tone. "Who will risk associating with you?" The corner of his mouth ticked up maliciously. "The social plague, the renowned pariah who's truly nothing more than a coward."

 

Viktor voiced the last word as if he were spitting acid from his mouth. Once again, he let them linger as he picked a lint from his sleeve. Nonchalantly, he dropped it between them and flicked his focus back to that waste of space.

 

"I wonder how your parents will feel about that legacy," Viktor mused. A mirthless chuckle bubbled out of him at the hidden terror he found returning his attention.

 

These rich kids could honestly use a clipping of their umbilical cord.

 

“No amount of money can buy you out of an aftermath that consists of publicly, violently, and pathetically punching down. This, I promise you.” Viktor tilted his head, weaponizing his inocence. "And that's before I contact local news stations after the fact, of course. I'm sure they'll be delighted to discover how rich Pilties massacre defenseless Zaunites for a nickel and a laugh. Your face will be splayed everywhere, and it will be associated with hate." Viktor's lips curved upwards as he stared him down. "Best of luck having a life in the public eye after that."

 

He could poignantly feel Jayce’s eyes burning on the side of his face.

 

The boy staggered, taking a step back as if that would save him from Viktor’s ruthlessness. Viktor’s voice was calm, yet edged with a quiet violence so sharp he could see it slicing into his mind. “So, are we in agreement?” 

 

The boy's chest rose and fell rapidly, anxiety taking over his fight-or-flight response. 

 

“You wouldn’t– you wouldn't break your own leg,” he stammered.

 

Viktor smirked menacingly, a frigidity in his leer he wanted to ensure remained engraved in the boy's mind for life. 

 

“Try me.”  

 

The boy’s eyes ricocheted between Jayce and Viktor, rapidly darting between them. Then he glanced at Viktor's braced leg, only to return his widened gape to Viktor, who held it without strain.

 

“Nothing happened," the imbecile enunciated slowly.

 

Viktor nodded once in agreement. “Good boy. Now, fuck off.” 

 

Without skipping a beat, the boy scurried off.

 

Viktor let out a breath of relief and turned to find Jayce’s eyes, twinkling as he studied him. 

 

“That,” Jayce breathed, his body leaning forward, “was the most badass shit I’ve ever seen.” 

 

Viktor couldn’t control it– he smiled up at him. He could say the same to Jayce, but he wouldn’t.

 

A second later, he was swatting Jayce’s arm in reprimand. “Idiot. While I appreciate the gesture, I have half a mind to ask you to please not do that again. You are also here with the help of a scholarship, don’t ruin your future because of some dumb nonsense coming out of the mouth of a nincompoop.”

 

“It wasn’t dumb, V," Jayce spat out between gritted teeth. "It was vile."

 

Viktor’s breath hitched at the newfound nickname, slipping out of his tongue as if it had always belonged there in the first place. 

 

He realised at that moment that he’d never had an endearing nickname before, and his chest squeezed in acknowledgement.

 

“Well,” Viktor persisted, clearing his throat and steering his attention elsewhere. “If it doesn’t bother me, it shouldn’t bother you . I can stand up for myself and don’t particularly appreciate my own quarrels being fought for me without my consent.” 

 

Jayce sighed, his shoulders deflated, and the man Viktor had come to know resurfaced.

 

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” 

 

They walked off in tandem, and for the first time in a dozen years, Viktor felt the urge to tear up, the realization too heavy to process.

 

Nobody had ever defended him before.

 

"Would you actually do such a thing?" Jayce asked, a quiet yet genuine smile tugging at his lips.

 

Foolish man.

 

Yet, Viktor found himself returning the gesture. 

 

"Guess you'll never know." 

 

Notes:

TW: alcohol consumption, acts of violence, queer erasure in assumption, ableism, ableist insults, internalised homophobia/comphet vibes (but not really cause he's just so naturally gay?)
///

How Jayce ever thought he was straight after these shennanigans is a conundrum to me x) and UNHINGED VIKTOR LES GOOOO, my king

also fyi the estate question off the bat WAS ALSO SOMETHING THAT HAPPENED TO ME. I wish I had a frame of what my face did like when he asked me, tbh. I think i stuttered something like "Estate as in... Estate?" In my most eloquent fashion. SIR THIS IS A WENDYS. Hes where i got the inspo for the blonde idiot, he was from the same group of pricks as the hitler defender ones, of course. It was a truly baffling first day.

also got our first good boy x) wonder how jayce felt hearing that for the first time, even if it wasnt directed towards him HAHA

also a lil context as to why viktor is not so great with kids MY POOR BABY

Thank you SO much for reading my shennanigans, for your wonderful coments and kudos. This community is awesome <3

As always, any feedback and/or overall opinion is not only welcome, but deeply appreciated <3

cheerioooooo

Chapter 8: I have the scars to prove it.

Summary:

Both Viktor and Jayce are repressing many things, but sometimes they must come out (hehe)

Notes:

TW IN ENDNOTES

Jayce stumbled into his apartment in the early hours of the morning. Despite having enough alcohol in his system to put a small bull to sleep, he felt his skin being pulled tight after the events that had transpired during the night out. 

 

And who do we have to blame for that?

 

The words had been poisonous, embedded with a vicious bite that had left Jayce bleeding out. He knew he’d been to blame for many things, but he’d never grown accustomed to hearing that spiteful bark in Viktor’s tone steered in his direction.

 

Once, he thought he’d be the exception to being on the receiving end of that kind of detestation from Viktor.

 

Worst yet, it wasn’t just anger or hatred. Today, Jayce had seen a simmering darkness vibrating within Viktor, agitating underneath the surface with a terrifying threat to lay waste to everything it touched. 

 

There had been an agony glinting in his eyes, erupting through the cracks of his explosive anger. And he’d refused to let Jayce anywhere near it, let alone learn about it.

 

He couldn’t get Viktor’s rancour out of his head. 

 

Jayce was also stupefied by Viktor’s actions and how easily he’d put Jayce on his back. Jayce couldn’t help but be deeply impressed. Viktor had brought him down to his own height so he could spit his vitriol directly into Jayce’s face. Eye to eye. A shiver crawled up his spine with the memory.

 

Jayce climbed into his bathtub and turned on the spray, seeking to cool himself.

 

Sleep would be impossible in his current condition.

 

He planted his forearm on the wall before him, resting his head on the softness of his flesh, and closed his eyes. His body had been scalding for hours, and the sensation was overwhelming his senses, robbing him of the freedom to think of anything but how everything within him seemed to burn .

 

The chilly water cascaded from the top of his head, most of it descending between his shoulder blades and carving a path of relief that followed down his back and lower half of his body. 

 

Still, it wasn’t enough. 

 

Jayce’s skin was thrumming, vibrating with an adrenaline he had not felt in a long time.

 

Nobody had ever handled Jayce’s body so effortlessly before, let alone someone half his size. Viktor had used his entire frame like a puppet master, guiding it exactly where he pleased, when he pleased, how he pleased. Jayce couldn't control the feeling of insignificance settling within– he'd felt so small beneath Viktor’s breathtaking glory. 

 

The blood that had been pumping in his veins began to travel between his legs. 

 

It had been over a year since his body had sneaked up on him with forbidden desires, except now it no longer visualised a foggy memory. Now, it was met with the force of a present reality Jayce did not know how to keep buried.

 

He hated himself for it. He hated that he had found it so obliterating. He hated that he couldn’t stop thinking about it, how his body had seized being his own for a moment. Any sense of control and power was ripped from Jayce, like a rug being pulled roughly from under his feet. One single moment. One split second where he felt gravity envelop him, of seeing his vision tilt in ways he hadn’t expected, of feeling the wall collide against his back and tear the air from his lungs, stone poking and prickling into his shoulder blades as an anchor to reality. Viktor had violently taken over and done with him as he saw fit. 

 

Time had stopped for Jayce in that singular second. Everything around him had slowed and paused, his brain unknowingly taking screenshots of every angle so it could be replayed in his mind, over and over again. Jayce loathed Viktor for, once again, so effortlessly giving him a feeling he’d so desperately searched for in the last seven years. 

 

Jayce’s cock was hard enough to ache. It twitched, twice, thrice, beckoning and begging for release. Calling him to return to a past torment.

 

And God, he needed it. 

 

He fisted himself slowly, a wave of pleasure immediately coiling in his lower abdomen.

 

And with that singular touch, Pandora's box slammed open in his mind. Memories of a golden haze, of once upon a time, craving its attention, its touch, its laughter. Memories of his body floating, flying before being thrown against a wall. Memories of a particular party, the first time Jayce had come with nothing but Viktor in his mind. Memories of Viktor ardently staring at him, amber eyes glowing across a dark room, as he was getting blown.

 

Jayce began to pump his straining cock, hard and fast. His breaths ripped out of him, and he couldn’t hold himself back. Jayce groaned with forbidden need, rough, slick slaps reverberating in his arm, the sounds of his blinding want bouncing in the tiles around him. But Jayce wanted more.

 

He lost himself, his hips now harshly thrusting into his grip with a mind of their own. Every inch of his muscles was taut and desperately sought release.

 

I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.

 

He fucked his hand as he pictured Viktor would fuck his throat, were he to fall to his knees before him and open his mouth.

 

He was disgusted with himself for wanting it so badly in moments coated in shadow, where nobody could see him, where he could barely see himself. 

 

Most importantly, he despised himself for it. For being so weak and pathetic and needy, for having made peace with forgoing certain aspects of physical intimacy, and yet having them trample back to life with an all-consuming starvation for touch whenever Viktor was around.

 

How embarrassing .

 

Yet the pleasure rose within him, building with an ache that seemed too powerful to turn away. It gripped him like a hand to his windpipe, suffocating rationality and leaving him with nothing but an admiration that forced him to worship. 

 

At that word rattling inside his brain, he faintly panicked and forced his mind to go blank as his body lurched forward, heels leaving the ground as his spend spurted on the wall in tidal waves. His ears clogged and sounds around him muffled, including the ones coming out of his mouth. 

 

Jayce continued to stroke himself, slowing his pace after each caress, and letting his cock gently soften in his hand while he rode the last remnants of his pleasure.  

 

When he came to, he snatched his hand back, mortifyingly aware of what he’d done. As it had always happened when he could not repress himself any longer and sought release under regrettable circumstances. This felt like a betrayal from his mind and body. Both to himself and that friend he’d had all those years ago. 

 

Why he sustained any loyalty to that person still was beyond him.

 

Jayce washed away the residues, shame crawling inside him like a purring cat. 

 

When he got into bed, he decided he could not allow Viktor to touch him again. Even in anger. Because while his brain understood the context, his body seemed to, once again, live in its own reality.

 

A weekend of keeping busy awaited him, considering Jayce chose not to remember any part of tonight moving forward. 

 

///

 

It was dark out when Viktor was finally done.

 

He spent most of his Saturday restlessly catching up with chores he had been postponing around his apartment. Fortunately, his slight hangover didn’t deter him. In fact, it stirred him on.

 

Once he finished, exhaustion nipping and body aching, he sat still for an entirety of five minutes before heading out the door. He was keenly aware that he shouldn’t be pushing his lower back nor his knee when they were already echoing with niggling protests, but the idea of sitting in the quiet with nothing but his thoughts somehow seemed worse.

 

Thus, he decided to stop by the lab and gather some of his effects so he could continue to work from home. 

 

The weather was merciless. An unforgiving storm was brewing, fierce winds whipping Viktor’s scarf in a dozen different directions as the thin droplets of rain ferociously turned into tiny slices upon his skin. It was making his face unbearably itchy. The trees swished and swayed, and Viktor had the brilliant realisation that he should have probably checked the weather app before stepping out the door. 

 

By the time he finally arrived at the lab, it had gotten worse. He decided to be as swift as he could, quick in and out, so as not to get stuck in the lab for the night and have to sleep over his desk again. He was certain the pain of it would be unbearable in the morning, and debated whether he would retain the ability to stand if that were to be the case.

 

He rummaged through his desk, piling necessary documents and important research he’d been setting aside for a better time. He also uploaded some documents to his external drive so he could continue to code his project from precisely where he’d left off.

 

The blinds slammed against the window, causing Viktor to jolt in surprise, the sound clashing as the overhead lights flickered in the lab. There was a sharp gasp from across the room and a thump .

 

Viktor froze. 

 

“Hello?” He rasped. Viktor took a couple of tentative steps, quietly emerging from his nook and peeking around the column in order to have full visual access to the rest of the lab. He looked it over.

 

Nothing.

 

Rain poured against the windows opposite him, harsher than it had been moments ago.

 

Viktor rushed to add all the necessary sheets of paper into a neat folder, which he hid within his shirt. Viktor tucked the front lapel into his pants, so the folder could not tumble out and fall into a puddle.

 

He crossed the lab and headed towards the exit door, the pain in his lower back and knee now piercing as he buttoned his coat anew. 

 

There was another loud bang from outside, rattling the cabinets. Viktor was certain that this time, he had not imagined the thud coming from somewhere behind him.

 

The tremoring sounds of clinking glass, clattering test tubes, beakers and flasks. lingered for a moment.

 

Viktor held in his breath as he approached Jayce’s cluttered desk, which was when the sounds of shuddering breaths reached him. Viktor rounded the table with cautious steps and bent to gently peek underneath it. 

 

Jayce was gripping his knees to his chest, somehow impossibly curled into the corner under his escritoire. His face was blanched, his lower lip trembling fiercely, almost as if his teeth were chattering behind it, but made no actual sound. His wide eyes snapped to Viktor’s as he came into view.

 

And his expression. 

 

Despite being fully aware that Jayce was a thirty-two-year-old man, at that moment, Viktor only saw a child. A terrified, petrified, horror-struck boy fearing for his life. 

 

And Viktor was slapped with the memory of a conversation.

 

Viktor didn’t choose to address him. His mind did it for him before weighing any rationality of who he was actually addressing. 

 

“Jayce,” Viktor greeted softly. Jayce stared for a moment before his gaze flickered away in a panic, in any and all directions without any real destination, searching, scanning, and then back to Viktor. A frantic loop had taken over. 

 

Shit . 

 

Viktor didn’t know what to do.  

 

“Y-you c-c-c-an g-g-g-o,” Jayce ground out. “It’s f-f-ine, i-it’ll p-p-p-pass.” 

 

And even though Viktor had so much fury within him towards this man, mountains of pain and betrayal he had no idea how to begin to work through, in this exact moment… They all fled out of him, evaporating from his consciousness and taking a secondary back seat. His mind was quiet and clear. And Viktor could be angry about that later, too. 

 

Viktor strained to remember that conversation from all those years ago. Was there a protocol? Had he been given a step-by-step guide on how to proceed? Was there any information he’d been granted regarding possible protective factors in circumstances such as this? 

 

Oh. Oh!!! 

 

Viktor pulled out his phone, searched his contacts and unblocked the number before pressing the button to call. He quelled the anxious knot that had taken place in his stomach at the idea of speaking to her again after so many years. 

 

One beep, two, three, five… 

 

Hi! This is Ximena Talis, please leave me a message after the beep!  

 

Viktor hung up, and tried again. She must’ve been by her phone, knowing how Jayce could get during windy thunderstorms. Unless she was having her own episode, which could also be a possibility, considering they’d survived that horrific hurricane together.

 

Hi! This is Ximena Talis, please leave me a message after the beep!  

 

He slumped down in Jayce’s chair, his aching limbs shooting pains through his body, and tried again. He rested his forearms on his knees, and even though it was excruciating for his back, it somehow felt crucial to keep his eye level somewhere Jayce could meet it if he chose to do so. 

 

Hi! This is Ximena Talis, please leave me a message after the beep!  

 

“I’ll try Caitlyn,” Viktor grumbled under his breath. 

 

“No!” Jayce burst out in a panic. Viktor glanced toward him and found something almost pleading in his frightened expression.

 

Viktor conceded with a heavy sigh. “Well, your mum is not picking up, so I’m not sure–”

 

“M-m-y mum–," Jayce started, his broken and strained tone in a rush to voice information that could no longer be held within. "Sh-she d-d-d-d-died."

 

Silence fell. 

 

Viktor went still, but a series of emotions rampaged through his insides, one after the other, like a machine gun carving holes into his body, bullet after bullet without a chance of respite.

 

Shock, horror, confusion, loss, denial, pain, sympathy, grief, profound sadness. His eyes began to water, and Jayce must have seen the question in them because he held three fingers with a trembling hand. 

 

Three years. 

 

She’d been gone for three years. 

 

Why did you accept them from her, you cuck?! 

 

God, Viktor was the cuck. Of course, Jayce wouldn’t have taken his mother’s pearls, even if they’d been a gift. Unless–

 

Viktor felt so stupid, all of a sudden. It was a gut-wrenching feeling that he was not particularly keen on repeating any time soon. 

 

Viktor hadn’t been here. He hadn’t gone to her funeral, paid his respects, or adorned her casket with her favorite gardenias. He hadn't said thank you, thank you, thank you one last time, or goodbye. Viktor would never have that last conversation, he would never get to apologise for leaving without more than some loose words sprawled in a quickly written text.

 

If Viktor knew any sliver of what maternal love might feel like, it was thanks to her. 

 

If Jayce had been sunshine, Meni had been the sun. 

 

Now he’d never get to tell her and there was a sudden, new gaping void somewhere in his soul that he wasn’t entirely sure could be healed. He wanted to be angry with Jayce for not contacting him, to scream, to let that tear in his eye shed freely.

 

Yet hypocrisy was not a character trait that Viktor was tolerant of. This, in particular, was his own fault, so he’d come to terms with it in his own way. 

 

And Jayce. The thought of the man he once knew having to undergo such a life-altering event on his own prompted a new wave of devastation to coil the nausea permeating Viktor’s stomach. 

 

Something tightened in his chest at the thought that three years had gone by and her phone plan was still being monthly kept. It wasn’t difficult to guess by who. 

 

But he couldn’t consider any of this, not right now. The blinds joggled outside from time to time, knocking against the window frame. Every time they did, Jayce flinched and hit some body part against the inside of the table. Viktor regathered his composure. 

 

He could do this. For Meni.

 

“It's okay,” Viktor breathed, his voice interlaced with a newfound softness. “We’re going to be alright, Jayce. Because you’re right, this will pass.” 

 

The lights flickered anew and Jayce inhaled sharply. Viktor gave him a gentle smile. 

 

“Yes, that is scary. Let me try to remedy it. Stay here. I’ll be back.” 

 

Viktor removed his coat and set the folder inside his clothes atop Jayce’s workstation. He filled the electric kettle and pressed it. In the meantime, he proceeded to roam the lab in search of an alcohol lamp he’d spied a few weeks back. When he found it in the back of a cupboard, he ensured it was clean and the wick was in good condition. The kettle clicked, announcing that the water had boiled to completion. Viktor grabbed one of his mugs, set a tea bag inside, and poured the water in. He added some milk, kept in a mini fridge, remembering how Jayce used to drink it. Viktor was unsure of how Jayce took his tea nowadays, but he didn’t think he was in the right mind to inform him, so the past version would have to do.

 

Viktor carried the mug and deposited it on the floor next to Jayce’s boot. Jayce continued to shudder, staring between the streaming cup and Viktor’s peaceful expression. He found himself giving Jayce a comforting wink. 

 

Viktor returned to the abandoned lamp business and procured the glass container with methanol in it, a funnel, and ensured the lamp’s reservoir was filled. Viktor did a quick check for potential leaks and then closed the cap securely. After grabbing a matchbox, he returned to his former lab partner, whose body was now lost to violent shakes. Jayce’s quivering knuckles reached for the scalding ceramic on the floor and he was staring at it with a mix of wonder and terror.

 

“Hey,” Viktor said with quiet tenderness, tilting the corners of his mouth in reassurance. Jayce met his gaze and pursed his lips in return. Viktor placed the lamp on the floor, close to the table and within Jayce’s eyesight. He lit a match and poured it into the wick, the lamp holding the flame in place. It was sleek and unmoving, which Viktor was thankful for. 

 

He then approached the light switches and turned them off.

 

Jayce let out a screech.

 

“Just me," he voiced kindly. He returned to the desk and peeked under it. “See? Now it’s a slumber party.” 

 

Viktor sat once more and took his phone in his hands. He looked for a playlist of soothing classical music, with emphasis on calming piano pieces, and pressed play. He turned the volume a little bit louder and placed the phone on the floor between them.

 

“I’m gonna stay, if that’s alright with you,” he proposed with an underlying disinterest in whether that was alright with Jayce at all. Viktor’s lips were tilted upwards, and he gave Jayce a knowing look when his eyes widened further at the announcement. “It’s not for you, though. I simply do not want to get home soaking wet. You know how easily I get pneumonia.”

 

Well, that wasn’t quite as true anymore, was it? Viktor waved a dismissive hand between them. “You can rest assured, I am not staying for you.” 

 

He leaned his cane against the table and winced when his back screamed in protest at bending over and staying in that position. Jayce didn’t miss a thing.

 

“Y-your b-back,” he objected. Viktor was about to fling his hand between them again, but when he met Jayce’s glare, he couldn’t help but softly smile at the unchanging stubbornness of the man. “C-cabinet. T-to your l-l-left.” 

 

Viktor saw what Jayce was referring to when he opened it and found three massive pillows and a blanket. A huff of air escaped him as he grabbed them. 

 

“Sleep here often, do you?” He asked, meeting Jayce’s stare under the table once more. But the question resonated with some dissonance, considering the cushions seemed rather new.

 

Jayce’s shakes were dwindling. Slowly, but surely. 

 

“No,” he responded candidly.

 

Alright, then. 

 

Viktor pushed his feet slightly, rolling his chair to the side. He eyed the floor for a moment before lining up two of the enormous pillows before him. Gripping the table, he pulled himself up and stood, carefully stepping over them and shuffling to find the right angle before he lowered himself with a slight hiss.

 

Once he settled, he passed the third pillow to a shivering Jayce. A confused expression stared back.

 

“I do not want to hear your noggin randomly banging against the table for the rest of the night," Viktor explained with an inconsequential tone. "I need my beauty sleep.” 

 

Jayce did smile then. It was but a faint shadow in his lips as he took the fluffy monstrosity with a tremor and placed it between his head and the furniture. He took a deep breath. 

 

“There you go,” Viktor encouraged softly. “You’re doing great. Here, have the blanket.” 

 

Jayce scrunched his brows and shook his head. 

 

“I r-run hot,” he reminded, his voice still shaky but far less terror in his demeanor. As if he needed the reminder of Jayce's innate body temperature. As if that aspect of it all weren’t engraved in Viktor like a brand of fire pressed in flesh.

 

Viktor responded with a pointed look. "You do not look hot right now. So, how about you keep it until you do run hot.”

 

Viktor slapped himself for saying the word hot in regards to Jayce so many times in a row. This is how you’d manipulate a brain into correlating people to words, and he’d rather not. No more classical conditioning where Talis was involved, thank you very much.

 

Jayce considered for a moment before he slowly complied. He covered his knees, and his hands were finally steady enough to grab the warm mug and hold it between his palms. He released a breath coated with relief. 

 

Viktor removed his leg brace and placed it next to his cane, the repose singing from his limb hitting him with an urgency he had forgotten to pay attention to.

 

Jayce studied Viktor’s every move, and when Viktor met his eyes once more, they seemed to gleam with an infinite amount of things to say. The most precedent seemed to be a dreaded thank you , so Viktor spoke first. 

 

“Please, don’t.” 

 

In perfect timing, thunder rumbled and the blinds thudded against the building once more. Jayce jumped, fear striking him anew. Whatever had been pulled tight inside Viktor released and his body relaxed.

 

“It’s okay,” he cooed soothingly. “I’m here and we’re okay.” 

 

Jayce’s rapid breathing slowed once more. Viktor lay down on top of the pillows, turned on his side to watch over Jayce, his cartilages moaning in gratitude and his frame melting into the comfort of the plushy surface.

 

Getting back up was going to be a struggle. But that seemed like a problem for his future self.

 

They stared at each other in silence, music enveloping the air around them and muffling most of the noise from outside.

 

They stared and stared, unspoken words heavy between them, but with nowhere to go. 

 

Of course, upon his arrival, Viktor had immediately accepted that Jayce had changed. It had been no surprise, considering nobody could truly evade the consequences of time.

 

Today was the first time Viktor’s eyes studied Jayce's features for the first time. 

 

There were barely perceptible shadows of indentations marking his expression, new lines crossing his forehead. His hair was longer, unexpectedly rebellious, decorated with some loose grays. His beard hugged his expression, covering the boy that used to be. There were newfound shades of purple under his eyes, and a rattling exhaustion that went beyond anything Viktor could physically perceive. It was painted in the shape of his gaze, one that unabashedly lingered in turn with an intensity Viktor did not want to acknowledge. 

 

In truth, it surprised Viktor. Not to see Jayce look away nervously, or change the interaction into something else entirely. Jayce had never been one to sit in discomfort. 

 

There was nothing left of boyish traits, now. A silent man was purposefully, piercingly staring back.

 

A small part of Viktor grieved it. Another, he would not tolerate thinking about.

 

Viktor found himself murmuring in clarification with a surprising softness, “I am not pretending nothing has changed. Everything has changed, Jayce. I have the scars to prove it.” 

 

He kept his voice calm, almost intimate, and his eyes pinned on the stranger before him. He meant every word, too.

 

"What do you have, Jayce?" 

 

Jayce’s eyes flashed with hurt, one Viktor found himself feeling utterly detached from.

 

“Remorse."

 

Viktor shut his lids to avoid tumbling into someone who, to him, no longer existed. Viktor didn't want to know about Jayce's conflicts of the self, if there even were any– especially regarding their history. He'd had his own to bear.

 

This is why he preferred the rage.

 

Viktor sighed. “No, you don't,” he shared tiredly, matter-of-factly.

 

Jayce didn’t respond, and Viktor knew it was because he’d spoken true.

 

“Sleep,” Viktor mumbled after another moment of quiet, exhaustion rapidly pulling him under. “You’re safe here, try to get some rest.” 

 

When Viktor awoke the next morning with the rays of sunshine filtering through the window, he noted that he'd been covered with the blanket. Jayce was still in a sitting position, but his body was sprawled and lighter. His head leaned against the pillow Viktor had offered him and his jaw was slack with sleep. His breaths were steady, and his mug was empty, abandoned on the floor. 

 

Viktor couldn’t ignore how the tip of Jayce’s foot was grazing his shin. 

 

Viktor recoiled away from it.

 

Slipping on his leg brace, he stood as quietly as possible, the effort straining from the pillows sinking him further after every movement. Before walking away, he left a Post-it under the table that said, “ Look who’s a slobbering idiot now.” 

 

The following Monday morning, when Viktor walked into the lab with sluggish steps, somnolence still clinging to his brain, and mumbled good morning, Jayce had turned to face him and murmured morning in return. 

 

And when Viktor reached his desk, three recently washed pillows and a blanket were wrapped in a red bow. There was a Post-it saying one for your back, one for your elevated leg, and one for your big insufferable head. It was signed as “Dr. Hanne”, but Viktor knew that handwriting well, and it wasn’t hers. Yet those had been her instructions for him in case he were to fall asleep anywhere that wasn’t his bed, once upon a time.

 

To Viktor’s surprise and delight, his coffee machine was also back in place.

Notes:

TW: explicit sexual content, alcohol consumption, PTSD triggers

///

viktor looking at jayce and seeing his inner child is very dear to me

happy new years, everyone!!!! I hope you have an awesome day, that you finish this slightly hellish year on a good note and start the next with our right foot forward. Onwards and upwards! (fingers crossed)

Thank you for all of your interactions, I can't express how much they fuel me :')

As always, any feedback and/or overall opinion is not only welcome, but deeply appreciated <3

good daaaaaaaay!

Chapter 9: How I put up with you for so many months eludes me.

Summary:

Ice is thawing. Jayce meets Jinx. Awkward encounters.

Notes:

duuuude this chapter is a mess, by far the one I've struggled to write the most so far. There's an awkward vibe going on and I get awkward myself trying to make sense of it HAHA So I apologise in advance if anything feels weird (in a weird way)!

The post it wars were inspired by another fic I read months ago but I can't find it anywhere. If anyone knows which one I'm talking about, pls let me know so I can link it <3

The weeks that followed were somewhat peaceful. Their lab war had dulled into a much more manageable affair, Post-its becoming both their preferred method of communication and insult. 

 

But it felt familiar now. Jayce stumbling into stupid s, corrections on the details of his equations that he despised to admit were rather helpful, or well-placed vicious slights. They had strangely been integrated into his day-to-day. Sometimes, Jayce found himself occasionally sifting through his workspace in case he got a glimpse of a cleverly tucked away tiny yellow square paper, especially when he was deep in thought. Every time he caught one unexpectedly peeking through a concealed compartment, he felt a boost to his nervous system that he couldn’t quite make sense of. 

 

Jayce no longer reacted with unadulterated wrath. Now, he just responded in kind, leaving his own drool bibs? (on his stack of napkins), vest storage space (on his trash can) or disgraceful thief (on his stolen desk). 

 

It was strange and he didn’t know what to do with it, this new reality he’d found himself in. Thoughts that he used to shamefully entertain in the hushed moments before surrendering himself to sleep, now had come out of that ominous cave and seemed to roam about more freely in his head. Thoughts that whispered in his ear of the possibility that, maybe just maybe , he could find a way for Viktor and Jayce not to detest each other so all-consumingly. 

 

After that shell-shocking night in the lab during the heavy storm, something had crumbled within Jayce that he lacked the necessary drive to build back up. 

 

Viktor could have laughed, he could have made it infinitely worse. He could have tormented him. Truly tormented him. He could have sought sleep and shelter elsewhere in their lab, far away from Jayce’s thudding and chattering. Better yet, Viktor could have left him there alone, altogether. It had been a perfectly timed opportunity to profoundly and irrevocably shatter Jayce. And yet, Viktor had chosen otherwise. 

 

It rattled everything. 

 

But Jayce also knew better than to believe Viktor was someone to ‘punch down’, as he used to say. Jayce had the sneaky suspicion Viktor would have done that for anyone he’d find in Jayce’s position. 

 

Yet seeing him spring into action, guiding Jayce’s blinding panic into a lulling sort of unease, comforting him, staying… Staying.

 

He’d stayed. 

 

The words battered Jayce, like a heavy cog falling down a metal duct, clunk clunk clunk, each leaden hit ringing within a familiar void. The contradictions only fueled the confusion responsible for fogging his brain. 

 

And just as conflicting, he did not want to admit how touched he’d felt upon witnessing what his mother had meant to Viktor, even if for a fleeting, split second. No words had been exchanged, yet the quiet desolation of discovering someone important was no longer present had been palpable. He’d watched as a singular lingering moment stretched into a numbing limbo. Jayce knew of those far too well. 

 

To this day, his mother still surprised him with her ability to plunge under people’s skins, sharing a type of unwavering care that led to effortlessly becoming a point of reference in their lives. Jayce envied that about her. 

 

And he’d finally gotten a semblance of proof. 

 

Proof that Viktor had cared. If not for Jayce, for his mother. And that struck a chord of palpable reality within Jayce that was impossible to ignore, allowing him, for once, to sort out lie from truth. Which only deepened the devastating, sinking feeling in his gut.

 

It was all a bit too much. 

 

Therefore, Jayce was deeply grateful for the valley still existing between them. 

 

One particular morning, as Jayce returned from his early lunch, he caught Viktor fidgeting near his desk. He immediately straightened and faced Jayce as he came into view, wearing an emerald vest over a white shirt. His hair was tied into a short yet high pony-tail, loose strands cupping his slicing complexion. Jayce’s brows etched together as he paused, witnessing the man poised on his cane with nonchalance, awaiting his arrival with a bored expression. Jayce didn’t miss Viktor secretly picking the limp skin off his thumb. His nails were painted today in a kaitoke green.

 

“Oh, good. You’re back,” Viktor said as a form of greeting, a bite of sarcasm behind the words. “I was starting to hope you’d fallen down the elevator shaft.” 

 

Jayce narrowed his eyes dramatically.

 

“No such luck.” His steps resumed. “You know, food is meant to be appreciated,” Jayce reminded. He shrugged his lapple bag and leaned it against the leg of his desk, abandoned for the time being. “Not that you’d know anything about that. If I ever see you eat anything other than instant noodles, it will be a day to remember.”

 

“No such luck,” Viktor echoed back to him dismissively. Jayce truly couldn’t comprehend how Viktor could eat the same bland thing every day, at times, multiple times a day.

 

Jayce shrugged and dropped to his chair. He looked up at Viktor, expecting him to trudge forward. Viktor wriggled his cane in place. Hm.

 

“What’s wrong?” He questioned carefully, unsure where the line between them had been drawn in the sand lately. Viktor’s eyes faintly widened with quiet surprise. Embracing his resignation and peeling off the indifferent layer to his expression, Viktor let loose a heavy sigh. 

 

“I… I need to ask for a favour.” 

 

“Oh.” 

 

Viktor dragged a chair and placed it in front of Jayce’s desk. He gestured to the chair, a silent question in his posture.

 

Jayce motioned with his hand, drawing an open invitation. Viktor sat and for a moment, he simply massaged his knee between the gaps in his brace. Jayce itched to ask about it, yet bit his tongue. It was none of his business. 

 

“I have a friend,” Viktor began, finally looking up. “From Zaun,” he clarified protectively, clearly forgetting there was no need to do so with Jayce. He leaned back in his chair and took another deep breath. “They have a daughter who’s quite brilliant. Unfortunately, she has not had many opportunities to develop her talents and I was thinking of, perhaps, inviting her to the lab for the day. Just so she can see what I do here, allow her to ponder whether this is a career she’d enjoy pursuing.” 

 

“And they’re coming to you as an example?” Jayce blurted out, incredulous. “With so many stellar scientists around here?” Viktor rolled his eyes, the tension between them melting into the cracks of an effortless foundation.

 

“I hope you’re not building up an argument to use yourself as precedent.” 

 

“I would be a terrific precedent,” Jayce smiled.

 

“The master of humility strikes again,” Viktor said casually. He pointed to his left with a curt nod. “How’s that equation treating you, Dr. Talis? It seems you’ve been collapsing under basic math. Again.” There was pity in his tone and a slight pout to his lip. Jayce wanted to hate it.

 

“I’d say it’s treating me far better than your coding endeavor is treating you . All I hear is tap tap tap for twenty minutes, followed by heavy sighs for the rest of the day. On repeat.” Jayce raised a single brow. “Is that what you need my help with? Because the answer will be no. Hearing you suffer has become a part of my daily influx of serotonin, so at this point it would be rude to deprive my brain of such a delicious sound.” 

 

Viktor let out a small gasp, an almost imperceptible, minuscule smile peeking through. Jayce bristled at the realisation that it was genuine, for once.

 

“Alright, let’s begin by deciphering where you found the audacity, shall we?” 

 

Jayce chuckled.

 

“You set a great example on that front.” And then he escaped the conversation like a coward. “Okay, so what do you need from me when this girl arrives?” 

 

“Nothing, really,” Viktor confessed. “Perhaps we could… Pause our distaste for one another for the day? I would like to focus on attempting to spark some interest. I genuinely believe she could be responsible for some fantastic innovative ideas, and we desperately need more of those people around.”  Jayce nodded.

 

“That’s no problem,” he assured. Jayce slowly leaned forward, a glint of impishness finding his eyes. “Although you’re aware that would mean that you owe me one, right?”

 

Viktor glared at him, a momentary silence ticking by between them. 

 

“How I put up with you for so many months eludes me,” he deadpanned. Viktor rose from his chair, promptly leaving the conversation. 

 

“Is that a yes, then?” Jayce shouted to his back as he walked away. Viktor raised a hand and unceremoniously lifted his middle finger in the air without turning around, which for Jayce meant: game on.

 

///

 

The girl had been in the lab for hours. She’d quickly become Viktor’s shadow: wherever he went, she followed with curiosity lining her face and edged in her posture. Her hands were often folded behind her back and she fluidly bobbed when she moved, almost appearing to levitate with every step. Their interactions were quiet and serious.

 

Her blue hair was tied into two considerable braids that almost dragged behind her, which made Jayce wonder if the hairstyle was at all comfortable. She must surely sit on them and pull on her own hair constantly, right? The visitor was wearing a violet crop top with some cartoons printed in the front, ragged blue jeans, and colorful boots. Her ears were adorned with multiple silvery earrings and each finger was decorated with its own ring.

 

Her face was round and soft, although Jayce could spot an edge to her features that he couldn’t quite place. Sometimes you’d meet people who had an empty stare, as if there were no thoughts lurking behind their eyes. And other times, you’d meet people like her, who, regardless of whether she was speaking or quiet, one could tell there was a constant string of considerations being pondered at any given moment. 

 

Jayce was curious. Still, he was true to his word, kept his attention on his own affairs and did not let them catch him glancing their way. 

 

Well, with the exception of the slim man who eerily sat in the corner of the room. His legs were crossed and he adorned a piercing stare that seemed to know when Jayce was considering looking up from his work before he did so himself. He reminded Jayce of a shark, swimming in calm waters yet primed to strike at any given moment. The man was wearing a large black coat atop a black suit, his blood colored tie sticking out from the rest of the outfit. His dark hair was slicked back and a powerful black cane was hoisted at his side, consisting of two sleek branches twisting upwards with a round finish. He had a gnarly scar across his left eye. He made Jayce feel uneasy. 

 

And he was apparently her father. And Viktor’s friend.

 

So Jayce kept to his work and his business, with every intention of staying out of that man’s radar. 

 

At some point in the late afternoon, Jayce felt a presence standing in front of his workspace. Slowly, he dragged his sight upwards and found blue eyes staring back at him, her head tilted to the side. 

 

“Hello,” he rasped, completely lost as to what he was expected to do or say. She continued to study him in silence, as if he were an enigma she was trying to decipher. He found it casually perturbing. He glanced behind her and understood that Viktor was in deep conversation with his friend, his back turned from them. He regarded the girl anew. “Can I-”

 

“What are you working on?” She interrupted. He straightened in his chair. 

 

“Um. Right now, I am designing a piece.” She scoffed. 

 

“That’s rather vague.” And for some reason, her bored intonation sparked a desire in Jayce to kill it. 

 

“Is that so?” He asked her with a grin. He shuffled some documents, searching for the main design he’d been making blueprints for. 

 

“You’re a mess,” she stated matter-of-factly, watching Jayce lose himself in his clutter. Jayce chuckled.

 

“And don’t I know it.” He scrumaged for another second before letting out a triumphant aha! and extending the sheets of paper to the girl. “How about that? Informative enough for you?” 

 

She glanced over his design and remained impassive for minutes on end. Jayce knowingly waited. Not before long, her eyes were twinkling.

 

“Not gonna lie, old man. This is pretty cool.” His laughter bubbled from his chest in genuine surprise.

 

“Who are you calling an old man?” He protested. He realised immediately that he liked her. Her eyes kept sliding over the blueprints and he let her take her time. 

 

“Have you considered making one to breathe underwater? There’s been a bunch of oil spills in the port lately and it’s destroying local fauna.” 

 

He blinked at her and genuinely considered it. 

 

“The three immediate problems that come to mind are accessibility to oxygen, high inertia and fluid resistance.” She stared at him with distaste.

 

“Yeah, I wouldn't know all about that," she dismissed monotonically. "But for the first issue, you could just build an oxygen generation system embedded in it, right? If you lean on, I don't know, electrolysis, for example, the person could be down there for as long as they wanted and you could avoid drowning them if the suit goes to shit. But I know what you’re going to say, might be too big and weigh it down, bla-bla. Have you heard of artificial gills?” 

 

And so they conversed, going back and forth. Viktor had been right, she was brilliant. Before he knew it, he had copied the equations from his board onto his notebook and wiped it clean to indulge in new hypotheses. 

 

“Sorry, what was your name again?” Inquired Jayce before addressing her latest question. 

 

Her attention remained focused on the blank board ahead. Jayce nodded in understanding and turned back, chalk in hand. 

 

“Alright! Let’s see if we can make this pan out.” 

 

He began to write down her suggestions as the girl jumped to sit atop his desk, papers flying everywhere, one leg folded to her chest and an arm resting on her knee. 

 

Jayce lost track of time, designing drafts of what her ideas could realistically look like. He included her as much as he could, questioning her conclusions and suggesting unspoken approaches. The girl seemed to loosen up over time because the edge to her voice dissipated and soon enough, she was excitedly springing around Jayce as he turned her more challenging, floating concepts into tangible possibilities. The girl took to drawing toothed little creatures and cutesy clawed minions whenever she caught on to a negative space on the board that would not be utilised. Yet her attention never wavered and he couldn’t help but be slightly jealous of her ability to simultaneously keep up with several trains of thought without missing a beat.

 

What she lacked in formal education, mathematical theory and physics, she made up for in fluid thinking. It was a captivating phenomenon because even though she didn’t have the necessary studies to supposedly access the kind of knowledge they were discussing, she understood the concepts in depth by having merely applied her astounding logic and fierce intuition. It was beyond impressive. Apparently, throughout the years, she had chosen to come up with her own names to make up for the lack of terms at her disposal. For instance, in her personal dictionary, inertia could be ‘meddling in betweens’, and torque could be ‘muscly power’. She would randomly throw them into conversation, and Jayce had to do mortal flips in his brain in an attempt to catch up.

 

It was lost to him how she knew the names of complex theories but had completely forgone learning the basic terms used for scientific endeavors. She mentioned that learning those was boring.

 

One thing was clear to Jayce: the girl thrived in chaos.

 

At some point, he felt the hairs on his nape bristle. He slowly turned to inspect his surroundings and clashed with Viktor’s ardent stare from across the room. Jayce’s stomach churned. 

 

“Your eyes get all gooey and miserable when you look at him,” the girl said without a care in the world, drawing another cutesy monster on a corner of the board. “You should be more discreet with your ogling, though, old man.” Jayce turned to her, a confused yet bemused expression on his face. 

 

“Firstly, I have absolutely no idea what that means. And secondly, I don’t ogle. ”

 

“Yeah, you do,” she sang. Then she turned her head from the board and gave him a concerned look. “And yeah, you do.” Jayce shook his head, a slight panic clutching his abdomen at the possibility that that’s what was coming across.

 

“Has anyone ever told you how much of a menace you are?” 

 

“It’s only weird when they don’t ,” she smirked. She raised her chin defiantly. “It’s part of the allure .” Jayce scoffed in amused disbelief. It was easy to change the conversation after that.

 

Eventually, she too began to share some inventions of her own, what she’d crafted throughout the years and what problems she was facing with her current ones. Jayce listened attentively and eventually proposed a potential solution to an issue she’d been stuck on. Jayce offered to do the math for the dimensions needed for the additional piece she could incorporate into her design, and the enthusiastic nodding made her braids bounce dramatically. Jayce laughed at the sight. 

 

In truth, Jayce was genuinely having fun. 

 

“It’s Jinx,” she said eventually from somewhere behind him. Jayce couldn’t help the broad smile from taking over his mouth as he peered over his shoulder.

 

“Jayce.” A slight nod to the board. “So, are you gonna help me out with this or what?” Jinx genuinely grinned for the first time, a certain manic edge to it. Jayce quickly noted that he’d have to come to terms with the fact that he found it faintly terrifying.

 

///

 

Viktor should have probably interrupted Jinx’s and Jayce’s conversation, but something inside him had been pulled tight to the point of paralysis. 

 

They were animatedly conversing for over an hour and a half, writing away on the chalkboard, drawing, having heated discussions that would dissipate almost immediately and Jayce was laughing. He wanted to slap it off his face.

 

Viktor also couldn't stand the fact that Jayce had it so easy whenever he wanted to befriend someone. Even people Viktor found incredibly difficult to read, like Jinx. He'd been trying all evening to engage her and to no avail. Yet, here came Mr. Charisma and in less than an hour, she had been completely bewitched. There was something about Jayce that was agonizingly magnetic and Viktor cursed the fact that even he couldn't look away.

 

But underneath the surface, somewhere Viktor refused to recognise, he was grateful. To have someone around in moments like these, someone who knew how to step in when Viktor fell short.

 

“I haven’t seen her this invested in anything outside her own trinkets in a very long time,” Silco murmured next to him. Viktor had his arms crossed and was perched in his chair, observing yet keeping his distance. 

 

“I should’ve realised,” Viktor said in a low tone. “Jayce is phenomenal at creating inventions with his own two hands.”

 

Silco hummed, studying the scene before him with a practiced disinterest. 

 

“They have that in common, it seems.” 

 

Viktor nodded in agreement. He sensed Silco’s eyes boring into his profile and he waited, letting the man voice his thoughts in his own time. 

 

“You like him,” he concluded. Viktor frowned at the perceived accusation, his attention still on the sight before him. Two scientists excitedly sharing ideas and wanting to create something out of nothing. He was brought back to the first time he’d met Jayce.

 

A nasty new feeling was twisting his gut. A mixture of anger and an edged side to him that wanted to watch the scene before him burn into ash.

 

Viktor’s eyes were fixed upon Talis, despite his attempts to veil the intensity of his gaze. 

 

“Define like,” Viktor replied nonchalantly. Silco let a sharp breath escape through his nose, calling out Viktor’s bluff without saying a word. Viktor felt Silco’s gloved digit lift the edges of his collar, and felt it slowly descend to sneak into one of the gaps between his buttons. Viktor didn’t feel any shivers this time, only blunt annoyance. He fought the urge to slap it away.

 

“Was he…?”

 

“Yes,” Viktor finished for him. His fingers traced the edge of the buttoned shirt.

 

“If you want him to pay for it, say the word.” He turned his head in Silco’s direction, slamming into the full attention Silco was now giving him. “It can be easily arranged.” 

 

Viktor forced a closed, small smile of recognition, believing every word. 

 

“No,” he remedied. “Not yet, anyway.”

 

Silco tugged the corners of his lips upwards. He dropped his hand and let it rest atop his cane. 

 

When Viktor’s gaze returned to Silco’s daughter, she was drawing one of her little creations on a corner of the board. But Jayce… Jayce was staring at him. His eyes jumped between Silco and Viktor and his lips were slightly pursed. 

 

“Don’t overthink it,” Silco threw his way before slanting towards his daughter. At perceiving his father’s proximity, she dropped the chalk. Silco exchanged a few words with Jayce and extended his hand toward him. Jayce stared at it for a moment before gradually taking it into his own. Jinx said a few parting words, and with a final nod, they were gone. 

 

And Viktor didn’t know why, but there was a sudden tension in the air that could be sliced with a knife. 

 

He stood with the help of his cane and approached Jayce, who was rooted in place. 

 

“That was a kind thing to do,” Viktor said tightly. When Jayce returned his gaze, there was a newfound fury in it. 

 

“Please, don’t,” he echoed, throwing Viktor’s words back at him. Fair enough.

 

Before Viktor could walk away, Jayce threw a question his way.

 

“Who is he?” 

 

And for some reason, seeing Jayce angry had a contagious effect on Viktor. Like a petulant child, he would not allow him to hurl his unwelcome emotions at Viktor. 

 

Taking all of the newfound anger, Viktor bottled it inside him, storing it for the right moment. Right now, he just wanted to infuriate Jayce further. He wanted to widen the void between them. 

 

He pretended to consider for a moment and shrugged.

 

“I don’t see how that’s any of your concern.” 

 

Jayce crossed his arms and faced him, brows knitted together and a directed disapproval drawn in his eyes. 

 

“If he’s going to be around from time to time, perhaps it should be.” 

 

“Why do you care?” Viktor spat out.

 

Jayce shifted on his feet. 

 

“Because he creeps me out.” 

 

Viktor found himself snorting. “That’s not a tall order, everything creeps you out.” 

 

And even though Viktor had had every intention of starting a fight, Jayce was giving him a tentative smile. 

 

“That’s not true.”

 

“Yes, it is.”

 

“Okay, fine, give me one example.”

 

“That commercial for dog food,” Viktor voiced automatically. Jayce gasped. 

 

“They moved the dog's mouth as if it were human! What the fuck is that about?!” 

 

“How about jello?” Viktor continued to list with a bored tone. Jayce uncrossed his arms and widened them as if to say are you blind.  

 

“Nothing should ever jiggle like that. Let alone, something edible.” He shivered. 

 

“Fine, what about accidentally looking at someone's back and realizing their butt-crack is doing a peekaboo?”

 

Jayce looked slightly perturbed. His voice was solemn.

 

“Those people cannot be trusted. Something is wrong."

 

They stared at each other for a moment, a mixture of irritation and amusement coating the space between them. 

 

“I think I’ve made my point,” Viktor concluded vacantly. He spun to return to his own desk, and Jayce asked from behind, a low tone to his voice. 

 

“So, you’re really not gonna tell me?” 

 

Viktor paused, and anger hit him anew. God, this was exhausting. But Viktor truly abhorred the fact that Jayce was convinced he had any right to demand anything at all from him. 

 

“If it’s so imperative you must know,” Viktor drawled without turning around, “he’s someone I like to fuck.” He peeked over his shoulder with a venomous smile, enjoying the view of Jayce’s eyes widening and lips parted in mellow shock. “Happy now, Talis?”

Notes:

the rollercoaster is real yall. im angry but you're funny but im angry but talking to you feels easy but iAM ANGRY AAAAARRRGGGG this chapter was making me crawl in my skin HAHA just kiss already guys D: but no, we're here to suffer together. You're welcome.

pls let me know if seeing our boys interact with other characters and slowing the pace of their reconciliation is of any interest to yall. this chapter really slapped the 'what am i writing rn' into me HAHA think I'll turn to some more flashbacks soon, like a COWARD

also love that jayce can accept v cared for his mum but wont accept he cared for him lolz

 

As always, any feedback and/or overall opinion is not only welcome, but deeply appreciated <3

good day to you beautiful hoomans

As always, thank you SO much for the comments and interactions <3 they bring me tremendous joy

Chapter 10: Do not involve me in your praise-kink endeavors.

Summary:

Jealous Jayce. Is that some... almost flirting I see?

Notes:

TW IN ENDNOTES

Thank you to last_brain_cell for motivating me to push through this writers block with their hilariously supportive comments. And thank you to CzarnaHerbata for being so lovely in participating by sharing their perspectives in the comment section. As always, this community is AWESOME.

Happy? Happy?! 

 

Jayce was many things, but happy was certainly not one of them.

 

Ever since Viktor had admitted to Silco (as he’d introduced himself after frigidly thanking him for indulging Jinx) being his lover, Jayce had been on edge. Especially because his focus was in tatters and his mind would assault him with images of Viktor deeply entangled with that man at the most unexpected moments of the day. For instance, mid-equation. Or mid-meeting with an important figure from the Academy. Or mid-shower, or– in all honesty, it hit Jayce anytime his wayward brain considered he’d spent long enough not thinking about it. 

 

Every time a new unsolicited image would pop up, Jayce winced. As though his body was experiencing a visceral rejection to seeing Viktor’s face slackened in pleasure instead of adorning his usual semi-perpetual glare. Jayce’s own mind was attacking him, and he had nowhere to hide. 

 

And that goddamned finger inside the fold of Viktor's shirt. 

 

God, Jayce hated that vision the most– that one he'd seen with his own two eyes.

 

The studied delicacy with which Silco was interlacing his presence with Viktor's had felt like a sharp knife, sensually slicing through butter. A surgical cut just concise enough to slide through Viktor's defenses. It made Jayce want to gag. 

 

Especially that Viktor had let him. That unsettling man, of all people.

 

Once again catching his train of thought, he sighed. Jayce was mentally exhausted. 

 

Why was his brain doing this to him? He didn't care, it wasn't his business, and he should be granted the request to let this go.

 

Commotion occurred in the far background, and Jayce had trained himself to add another stick to the back of his notebook without even being fully aware of it.

 

We hate the bastard, remember? He would tiredly repeat into the void of his mind.

 

He attempted to reason with it, begged it, constantly informing it that this was not an essential topic of focus. Whatever Viktor did in his free time was up to him and it was bad enough that he’d been ambushed on rare occasions with images of Viktor during moments fogged in mist and shadow. Jayce did not want to think of him in those ways ever, let alone in broad daylight. A gnawing worry picked at his chest from the inside, especially at the thought that someone might see through him. 

 

Embarrassingly, when tiredness hit him from all the jolting, he pessimistically closed his eyes and conjured images of himself caressing the folds of his cortex, soothingly shushing it and comforting it in a pleading attempt for his mind to release this useless information from the alert part of his consciousness. Which Jayce was painfully aware made no sense at all, especially considering the brain was composed of a jellied substance. But still, in his stupid imagination, he desperately tried. 

 

When he was finally beginning to feel better, he followed the urge to look up from his work only to find Viktor's stare already upon him, standing in front of his desk and patiently bidding for his attention.

 

The moment their eyes locked, he flinched .

 

Jayce cursed himself.

 

“What is wrong with you today?” Viktor asked, an amused coating to his concern. “You’re all… Twitchy.” Jayce averted his gaze back to the notebook in front of him, underlining a sentence he hadn’t even read. 

 

He cleared the raspiness from his throat. “Allergies.”

 

Jayce didn’t see as much as he felt Viktor’s mirth stretching the corners of his lips.

 

“And it so happens to kick in when you look at me? Interesting,” he mused. “I was not aware such allergies existed.” Annoyance flared in Jayce as he snapped his head up, a glower directed at his tormentor.

 

“What do you want?” 

 

Viktor smiled victoriously, like the wretch he was.

 

“There you are. I just thought you’d like to know that Jinx will be stopping by every so often from now on. Apparently, she loved being here and is genuinely considering applying for a bachelor's.” It was Viktor’s turn to drop his attention to Jayce’s notebook, eyes fleeting. Hm. “You’re under no obligation to spend time with her if you don’t want to. What you did was… Considerate.” His lip curled as if the word tasted entirely bitter in his mouth. Viktor shifted his weight, measuring his words as he plowed through. “If you ever happen to need a favour in turn– do voice it.” 

 

Jayce’s tension dissolved at the surprising realization that this was Viktor’s way of expressing gratitude. He found himself immobilised at the opportunity before him, like witnessing a drifting plume languidly swaying to casually perch in his lap. Jayce was befuddled, utterly lost on what to do with it. Jayce felt the urge to shelter it from any stray gusts of wind that might blow it away into nothing.

 

They had been stuck in a pattern of animosity for so many months on end that his mind had not prepared him for the possibility of different dynamics coming to life between them. Jayce understood Viktor as a skittish, feral cat. If he said the wrong thing, did the wrong thing, he was met with a newfound fear that didn’t exist in their partnership seven years past. A grieving whisper forewarned him that one wrong move could cause Viktor to lash out and scurry away, rebuilding his walls against Jayce. Or, worse still, leave no trace before Jayce could inquire about it.

 

He did his best to hide the roller-coaster of emotions taking place inside him by schooling a neutral expression. Truthfully, the ups and downs were being drowned in his mind by echoing screams born out of jovial elation as well as outright terror. 

 

Jayce decided to stick to familiar grounds. 

 

“Oh?” He smiled up at Viktor, who frowned at the sight. “Can I ask you to dress in anything other than those despicable vests you wear to work? They’re an eyesore.” 

 

Viktor gave him a pointed look. 

 

“No.”

 

Jayce couldn’t control the newly found mischief emanating from him, his eyes deep in fake consideration. He leaned forward in his seat, rested his elbows on the table and raised his interlaced hands to serve as a support for his chin. 

 

“How about you tell Jinx to leave her creepy father at home for the foreseeable future?”

 

Viktor’s lips twitched ever so slightly. “Try again.”

 

Jayce feigned to ponder anew. 

 

“Can I have my desk back?”

 

“No.” 

 

Jayce harrumphed. “This favour seems to come with a long string of conditions attached, doesn’t it? Fine, I’ll make it easy for you. How about every morning for the next week, you give me a compliment to start the day?” 

 

Viktor's lips parted in pure shock, completely aghast at the mere possibility of such a thing. 

 

“Absolutely not,” he voiced, his accent curling around each letter of the spoken words. “Do not involve me in your praise-kink endeavors.” 

 

Jayce blinked. 

 

"Come again ?” He strained out, his voice jumping an octave. Viktor tried to hide the smile that was so clearly eager to broaden in his mouth. 

 

“Besides, you can turn insufferable over a compliment," Viktor quipped. "I'm not putting myself through that torture."

 

“I do not-”

 

"You do," Viktor nodded.

 

Both men stared at each other for a moment.

 

"I absolutely do n-"

 

Viktor raised his hand and Jayce cut himself off. He smirked.

 

“Please, do not insult me by denying unquestionable facts.” Jayce’s jaw dropped, which only fueled Viktor to go on. "We both know you’ve always itched for praise. Professors, people of authority, power, riches… You’ve pursued them all, haven't you, Dr. Talis?" There was something edged to his tone and sharp to his smile. Viktor tilted his head as he stared at Jayce. "Let's not pretend such blinding desires wouldn't bleed into other contexts.” 

 

And then he had the nerve to glance at his nails. The picture of nonchalance.

 

It was infuriating to realise that hearing Viktor say those words did not awaken any desire to fight within him, but something else entirely lurking underneath. 

 

Viktor didn't know shit. 

 

Jayce stood, taking his time to come to his full height before Viktor. He leaned on his knuckles, which were now resting on the wooden surface between them. Jayce stooped in search of his electric, burning eyes. Viktor lowered his hand with excruciating slowness, his attention curiously prickling at Jayce's expression. He was hoping to be returning the favor. 

 

Jayce wanted Viktor's indifference obliterated. 

 

“And what have you been itching to be called, V?” 

 

The nickname fell out of Jayce inadvertently. It was a discovery to find that the reflex had not been forgotten over time, but apparently, merely remained dormant in a forsaken cave within himself. Ready to return with a mighty force, yet without the decency of a much-needed tip-off.  

 

Whatever game they had been playing ended abruptly. Jayce straightened immediately, prepared to bolt after the skittish cat. Viktor's eyes hardened at once, whatever thin veil slightly resembling a white flag between them utterly decimated in the span of a blink. 

 

"If I ever hear that nickname come out of your mouth again," Viktor seethed, his teeth clenched together in visible restraint. Jayce cursed inwardly. "I'll make sure the only thing you're itching for is a bedside nurse." 

 

The threat sank into Jayce, his stomach clenching at the returned fury radiating from Viktor's expression; at the pinched brows and the slightly trembling upper lip, quivering with flaying disgust.

 

Jayce's nausea struck, and he silently wished he could rewind the last thirty seconds of his existence. This was not the kind of coaxing he'd intended.

 

At the lack of response, Viktor swirled and began to stride away from him. The sound of his cane furiously clicking on the floor, further away with each decisive step, made something in Jayce snap.

 

Anger was preferable.

 

He followed suit, rounding his desk in Viktor's direction. 

 

"You're a real piece of work, you know that?" Jayce called out, aggravation taking the wheel to envelop him in a recently discarded armor.

 

Viktor turned, a storm thrumming under the layers of his skin. Jayce felt the static electricity of Viktor's glower, causing the hairs on his forearms to raise in a perturbing yield. Jayce loathed that his body instinctively suggested concession.

 

Viktor pointed a ruthless finger in his direction, a gesture Jayce recognised as his own. Jayce's heart was thundering in his chest, a lingering plea overwhelmed by the echoing beats of a mirrored, protective tempest. Unfortunately, there was a snarl viciously curling Viktor's lip. 

 

" You are a fucki—"

 

BOOM.  

 

A deafening sound burst, shaking the entire building. It erupted from the wall behind Jayce’s chalkboard, off to his right. The room reverberated violently, the ground rumbling beneath their feet. The shockwave hurled Viktor away from Jayce, his cane flung away from him as his back slammed into the bookshelf positioned in the corner of the wall. Turning that corner, one would find the small hallway that led to the doorway, which was directly across Jayce’s desk. 

 

Jayce stuttered, the blast shoving his body forward.

 

Horror hit Jayce immediately, his heart violently pounding at the mortifying thud that came from Viktor’s body hitting those protruding shelves at full force. Viktor’s panic-stricken eyes met Jayce’s before his knees buckled and he collapsed on the floor.

 

Jayce didn't think.

 

He bolted towards him and dove to cover Viktor’s frame with his own, shuffling his slim legs under his own with his parting knees. 

 

Ceiling panels were dropping, glass was shattering around them and equipment was crashing to the floor. Jayce barely felt the slices to his legs or the books toppling and plummeting onto his back. 

 

All he could look at was Viktor. 

 

Clutching his chest with widened eyes, Viktor's gasps wheezed. He seemed to be struggling to get a full breath in and Jayce made a conscious effort not to panic. 

 

Jayce’s elbows were to each side of Viktor’s shoulders and his hands cradled his head, interlacing his fingers in his soft hair in order to shield him from any soaring rubble. Jayce gritted his teeth in an astronomical effort to keep himself from putting any weight on Viktor, regardless of how many items descended upon him and tried to sink him further down. 

 

Viktor was still panting, each puff hitting the soft skin in the base of Jayce’s throat. Viktor’s chin was slightly tilted upwards, his eyes stubbornly locked with Jayce’s as he fought for every breath. Deliberately and with an underlying resignation for himself, Viktor circled the back of Jayce’s head with his own trembling palms, safeguarding him in return from any loose objects that might find his skull. A deeper understanding awoke within Jayce in that moment, and he tucked it away immediately. 

 

“It’s okay, you’re okay. We’re gonna get help, just hold on,” Jayce was murmuring in a soothing tone, their faces so impossibly close to one another. His amber eyes held his own with an intensity that kept Jayce in a momentary limbo. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d held Viktor so close, and something inside him was shattering and begging to sob. Not like this.

 

The initial blast settled, but damage continued to occur around them. More debris rained down and a sharp and heavy object barreled into the back of Jayce’s left knee. He winced in pain and let out a grunt, but with a quick shake of his head, it was momentarily forgotten. A nearby glass cabinet imploded when another piece of rubble fell upon it, and Jayce curled himself further into Viktor, pressing his head to his broad chest. A shard flung in his direction, slicing his shoulder with a superficial cut. 

 

Then, silence. 

 

Jayce peeked upward only to find the air stuffed with dust and the acrid smell of spilled chemicals. 

 

Despairingly, his attention slashed back to Viktor. Sweat pooled in his temples, slowly trickling down into his hair. Viktor's eyes were begging to shut, drowsy blinks turning heavier, and Jayce understood with immediacy that the room was probably closing in around him.

 

“Can you hear me? You’re okay, you’re okay. I've got you.” 

 

At the sound of his voice, he sluggishly blinked and found Jayce’s eyes anew. 

 

“Stay with me,” Jayce quietly pleaded, his throat burning with desperation. "Stay with me." Viktor's eyes battled to retain focus, lingering on Jayce's expression. Any trace of wrath had been completely dissipated. 

 

Jayce tried to move, but the pain in his left knee flared. He flinched in pain. 

 

Viktor heavily slid his limp hands from the back of Jayce’s head and carefully cupped his cheeks, thumbs softly brushing his beard and Viktor’s gaze followed that minuscule touch. Jayce was momentarily entranced by the shattering softness, taking in those golden hues that were regarding him with a quiet attentiveness he had not seen in years. Then, the corner of Viktor's lips twitched upward before his eyes rolled back. His lashes fluttered and his hands fell lifelessly. The shaky breaths whistled still.

 

Jayce moved then. 

 

He attempted to get up, but his body had locked into a state of freeze. Jayce let out a guttural sound, which seemed to fill him with a boost of adrenaline that had the edges of his vision blurring in the corners. 

 

With tremendous effort, he dropped to the side. He frantically examined Viktor’s frame to check for any wounds, and after finding none, he supported himself on the bookshelf to get to his feet. Jayce’s knee was flaring up in protest, but other than that, he also found no concerning injuries. Jayce managed to slither one hand under Viktor’s shoulder blades and another under the back of his knees. He lifted him, and even though his own back cried in pain, he managed to hoist him up. 

 

There was a flicker of a memory.

 

Jayce tucked Viktor into his chest in reflex and began to limp toward the exit, clearing over some fallen wreckage. Thankfully, the door was ajar, so with a simple shove, it flew open.

 

Everything after that was a blur. 

 

At some point, Jayce could make out someone trying to reach for Viktor, for which he shouted NO . A rough, primal warning more than anything remotely intelligible. 

 

Eventually, he found himself outside, the rays of sunshine blinding. Ambulances were already at the premises, people were running around, crying, and firefighters were running into the building. 

 

He limped toward the ambulances.

 

“Help,” he rasped. Instantly, a paramedic rushed to meet him and escorted him to a stretcher, where he lay Viktor down. He sat and observed them get to work.

 

Whenever someone tried to check on him, he shook his head and pointed to Viktor. Only after watching them help him in earnest did Jayce manage to come back to his senses.

 

“You seem to have some superficial cuts; let me disinfect them,” another professional urged. Jayce complied by removing his shirt and allowed her to do whatever she needed to do, his attention relentlessly locked in with Viktor. He was wearing an oxygen mask and the frightful sight flared nightmarish memories belonging to a different life. A different person, almost. 

 

Eventually, they gave Jayce a compression bandage for his knee, which was apparently inflamed. He didn’t care. 

 

“Okay, your friend is stable,” said the other paramedic. “He took a heavy blow to his lungs, but they’re just bruised. No internal bleeding, no other injuries. He was very lucky.” Jayce let out a breath of relief. 

 

“What now?” He asked in a low voice. 

 

“Well, we can either take him to the hospital-”

 

“Is it a life or death situation?” Jayce interrupted with a clipped tone. 

 

“No. He can go home under the condition that he be put on bed rest. It will be disorienting to wake up at first, he’s been lacking oxygen and his chest will be in pain. But he’s in no immediate danger, so a week should do until he’s back on his feet.” 

 

After giving the paramedic his personal information, they kindly (and expensively) escorted them home. Jayce gave his own address, considering he no longer knew where Viktor lived. And Jayce refused to let him wake up in the hospital, especially on his own. 

 

They brought Viktor into his apartment with the stretcher and placed him into Jayce’s bed. They checked on his vitals one last time and as they were leaving, Jayce thanked them profusely.  

 

When Jayce came back into the room, he was still in a daze. 

 

Jayce remembered not to touch him or change him out of his clothes. He was mortified at the prospect that Viktor could feel violated if he were to do so, so he left him in his own attire and settled a lofty blanket on top of him. Jayce grabbed a washcloth, dunked it in hot water, and removed the dust from Viktor’s eyelids, his temples, his nostrils, his mouth. Jayce studied every inch of his face and ensured it was clean. 

 

Despite feeling his shoulders weighing him down and his feet dragging with every step, he still procured the oxygen mask he had recently substituted from his storage, and after returning to his room, Jayce slid it over Viktor’s sleeping face. Just in case. 

 

Sitting in the far corner of the bed, he pulled out his phone and found an article notifying that the explosion had been a gas leak, and that there had been no casualties.

 

Cait had begun to bombard his phone, but he was too tired to get into any of it, so he simply texted her that they were both safe and, apart from some bruising and cuts, they were completely fine. He asked her to wait to come visit, since he believed both of them would be sleeping for a long while. 

 

He hauled an armchair into his room, every inch of his body now protesting in pain and nearing collapse. Jayce placed it next to the window and near the bed and slumped into it. He closed his eyes and breathed.  

 

They were alive. They were okay. Viktor was okay, he was going to recover. Everything was fine. 

 

He looped those thoughts in his mind until Jayce fell asleep, lulled by the sound of Viktor’s quiet exhales.

Notes:

TW: Violent environmental situation (not between characters, but what they go through)

///

nothing better for a writers block than to blow everything to shit :)

and now, NEW FORCED PROXIMITY SITCH 8) hehe one bed trope in full effect c:

I really went: medical proceedings will go as I say 🕺

might be taking a bit longer with updates now, I have so much to share with you guys about these two babies that my silly brain overwhelmed itself into a state of petrificus totalus. But I am so excited!! :D

Thank you for your patience and for all of the AMAZING interactions I've been so incredibly lucky to get, you guys honestly make my day every time. Please take care!!

As always, any feedback and/or overall opinion is not only welcome, but deeply appreciated <3

tooodalooooo!

Chapter 11: (F) Let’s see how he fends against someone his own size.

Summary:

Jayce and Viktor continue to spend time together and growing closer.

Notes:

TW IN ENDNOTES

Thank you to one of my best-friends, Leo, who's an incredible writer, and with whom I had the courage to share this silly lil fic. They came back in less than 24 hours with so much excitement, care and support over these silly gooses and me writing anything at all, really. I wish the world could look more like you. Lob u.

FLASHBACK

 

“What are you doing?” Inquired Jayce, peeking over Viktor’s shoulder as he stood behind him. 

 

Viktor had been staring at the sheet of paper for over thirty minutes, scribbling different options and sounding them out in his head. He was nowhere close to coming up with something satisfactory enough to keep for life. 

 

“Waiting for the update to finish,” Viktor articulated absent-mindedly. 

 

He’d finished the rudimentary coding necessary to begin testing the different ideas he’d been planning and discussing with Jayce. This final update would finally determine whether the program was ready to be implemented into Jayce’s machinery. Unfortunately, even if the upgrade came back unscathed, a game of trial and error awaited them in order to prove whether Viktor’s work was actually compatible with Jayce’s hardware. 

 

Jayce’s hand rested on the table before him, his chest quietly brushing Viktor’s back. Viktor awoke to the present moment then, the sudden awareness of Jayce’s closeness colliding into his consciousness like a hiccup he couldn’t swallow down. Viktor bit his tongue, reigning in his breath and allowing his disquieted heart to settle. Viktor allowed his attention to drift to Jayce’s spread fingers before him instead, slim hairs cascading from thick knuckles and a sturdy palm faintly pressing against the wood of the table. He let the sight soothe his initial apprehension. 

 

Viktor had been learning to indulge in these quiet moments between them.

 

Viktor’s adjustment to Jayce’s innate ability to embrace physical affection had been quite challenging during the first weeks. He was used to his body reacting with alarm and defensiveness when he felt someone’s skin brush his own or whenever he was crowded, his nervous system in the habit of experiencing a systemic form of self-electrocution in case there was need for escape. Or a semi-expected descent into violence. 

 

While physical intimacy seemed to come naturally to Jayce, Viktor hadn’t known it outside of a clear purpose. One that usually led into someone’s bedroom. 

 

As weeks flew by, Viktor had come to affirm three things: First, that Jayce was a brilliant man. Secondly, and despite the first understanding, Jayce could be a painfully oblivious man. And thirdly, Jayce had no such intentions towards Viktor. 

 

It seemed Jayce was simply being… Jayce. What at first Viktor might have assumed to be an unwelcome assertion of dominance was now understood as a harmless gesture between friends. A normal act born from Jayce due to a lifetime of experiencing genuine expressions of care as a granted custom. A given concept for someone who hadn’t experienced what it was like to have an acidic hand press to their body while immediately sensing their own skin sizzle and sear under the undesired contact. 

 

So Viktor approached the situation as a challenge. Jayce was, of course, completely clueless to the fact that Viktor had been slowly unlearning his forced-upon instincts, ones that urged him to fight back if anyone dared to be self-inviting to Viktor’s proxemics. 

 

Viktor had been conducting his own secret experiments, except these were of the social kind. He had been attempting to learn and practice trust, reminding himself to believe that Jayce’s intentions were pure hearted and that he had no ulterior motives beyond embracing the comfort of not having to overthink the meaning of every move, which was excruciatingly new to Viktor. He felt as if he was learning to walk for the very first time, except in an emotional sense, and while he was in his mid-twenties. 

 

But Jayce, unknowingly, had made it increasingly easy. There was never any tension or awkwardness from his part whenever he came into contact with Viktor, only comfort and moments born of self-expression. 

 

And most importantly, Viktor had been sneaky enough to test Jayce by rejecting his advances more than once. Every single time, Jayce had happily respected his choices without complaint or any strain to their growing bond. Without having to walk on eggshells around each other until Viktor was indirectly coerced to lend his skin in order to keep some semblance of peace, which was not a behavior he entertained anymore. 

 

Furthermore, each time Jayce was ever inclined to repeat any move that Viktor had previously declined, he would ask for his permission. And whatever the response, it was always enthusiastically embraced.

 

It had been shell-shocking to Viktor at first. That it could truly be so easy. 

 

And now that he was slowly understanding it could be this way, he didn’t think he could ever return to any other dynamic. 

 

Trust. What an alien concept that had been. 

 

And yet here he was. Attempting it. Making sense of it. Tasting it for the first time, of his own accord. 

 

Jayce’s palm stretched over the sheet of paper, holding it down in front of Viktor. He could perceive Jayce’s breaths caressing his spine every so often with their comings and goings. The warmth seeping into his back comforted Viktor immediately, like a hovering, heavy blanket made from flesh. 

 

“No,” Jayce murmured, still reading the page over Viktor’s shoulder. His finger pointed to a word.  “This. What is this?” 

 

“Ah.” Viktor ran his digit over the indentations on the piece of paper. “I’ve realised that if we’re going to pursue these sorts of scientific endeavors, I should come up with a surname for myself. Viktor alone does not inspire great confidence.”

 

Jayce chuckled. 

 

“I have to disagree. History is full of revolutionaries known by just one name. Plato. Voltaire. Colette. Homer. Socrates.” He turned his head to face Viktor, an impish glint in his eye. “Cher?” 

 

Viktor, unexpectedly, threw his head back, mistakenly pressing against Jayce’s chest, as a laugh ripped out of him. Which, of course, triggered a coughing fit. 

 

Viktor felt as if his lungs were getting worse by the day, but he also knew he’d suspected that for years. It was difficult to ensure, but Viktor simultaneously did not want to. Whatever was to be, was to be. He refused to let it consume every second of his life.

 

When he returned his gaze to Jayce’s, his palm already patting his back, he wore a soft smile and was examining Viktor with a newfound tenderness dipped in surprise. Perhaps a sweet sliver of concern underneath it all.

 

“You listen to Cher?!” Viktor wheezed. 

 

Jayce flashed a grin he was unable to tame and averted his gaze back to the names scribbled on the page, tapping his finger to bring Viktor’s attention with him.

 

“That’s not the point,” he said far too quickly, a blush creeping into his neck and cheeks, ears tainting red. “The point is, Viktor is great. You don’t need to be anything more than who and what you are to inspire great confidence. You already do.” Jayce took a step back, casually shrugging. “Besides, that’s the thing with genius minds: people tend to mold to them, not the other way around.”  

 

Viktor gaped. Then, he gaped some more. 

 

He had absolutely no idea what to say. Viktor had always been the only person to believe in himself. Throughout his life, he’d never met people who were loose with their praise– and truthfully, he’d never cared much for it. It was rare to meet someone whose opinion sparked interest in him. Yet, hearing those words spill from Jayce had rendered him stupid.

 

Jayce visited Viktor’s expression anew once he perceived the prolonged silence and, at the realisation that Viktor was in shock, he cackled.

 

“Blink, dude! Your eyes will dry out.”

 

At the casual command, Viktor did, a genuine smile unfurling in his mouth at the beautiful sound. 

 

“You’re right, I’m fucking fantastic,” he finally proclaimed, eliciting Jayce to roll his eyes with mirth. 

 

“What have I done?” Jayce begged in prayer. “I’ve immediately created a monster.” 

 

Viktor sniggered. 

 

“Don’t you dare take credit, the monster was already there. I just had it leashed in order not to scare you off,” he smirked. Unfortunately, Jayce melted before him. 

 

“Awh. You were worried you’d scare me off?” 

 

Viktor reached for a pencil and flung it at Jayce, his laugh bubbling to the surface as he raised his hands in front of his face for protection. 

 

“Don’t you worry, I think it’s far too late for that. If seeing you survive solely on sugar dipped in black coffee and witnessing you threaten rich kids with shattering your own kneecap to get your way didn’t scare me, I suspect nothing will.” 

 

Viktor beamed at him. 

 

“Good. And while I appreciate your words, the actual reason for the surname is governmental bureaucracy,” Viktor added with a wry face. “Apparently, if I want to publish my research or purchase a patent, I need one.” 

 

Jayce let his jaw drop. 

 

“That sounds slightly discriminatory and deeply controlling.” 

 

Viktor snorted. 

 

“Welcome to our system.” 

 

Jayce snatched the paper from the table and began to read some examples out loud, to Viktor’s horror. It was slightly embarrassing to allow someone to peek inside him, but then again, that seemed rather unavoidable when it came to Jayce Talis. 

 

They went back and forth, sharing thoughts of powerful initials or what might cause an impression. The only aspect Viktor was certain about was that he wanted a surname from his own culture, so he could continue to take a slice of home with him wherever he went. 

 

Jayce was leaning on the table across from Viktor’s, legs crossed in front of him. 

 

“I think it should start with a J. Not for any particular reason at all other than the fact that it’s the most beautiful letter to ever exist.” 

 

“That does sound like an unbiased conclusion, on all fronts.” 

 

“The most,” Jayce grinned. 

 

They bargained for a while before changing the subject, but Viktor actually considered it. A name was ringing in his mind and there was something within him tugging to have that letter next to his own. 

 

The update finally sounded the alert of completion. Viktor scanned through his creation on his computer, checking it one last time before giving Jayce a winning smile and saying, “After prototype integration, I think we’re ready for trials.” 

 

Jayce whooped with a leap in the air, a sound enveloped in ecstasy. It was carefree and effortlessly contagious. 

 

As Viktor watched him, he couldn’t help but wonder how he’d never realized just how dull his life had been until he'd found Jayce.

 

///  

 

A few weeks later.

 

Viktor had no idea how he found himself in such a loud house. 

 

One moment, he had been listening to Jayce speak about his family. In the next, he was being driven against his will to a party, of all things. 

 

Apparently, the idea of Viktor spending the holidays on his own was a mortal offense to Jayce and he quickly decided not to take no for an answer. 

 

To be candid, Viktor had never had any particular interest in participating in a celebration that involved spending abhorrent amounts of money for no reason other than it being the month of December. Without a family to enforce it upon him, he’d happily come up with his own little rituals to keep himself fulfilled. Viktor was quite content with his life as it was and did not yearn for something he’d never really known. 

 

Still, the moment Jayce’s eyes had gotten all googly at the prospect of leaving Viktor behind, Viktor found himself relenting between gritted teeth. Despite hating vast gatherings of people. Despite hating social noise. Despite hating being in new environments. But how could anyone account for the mighty influence that was Jayce Talis? 

 

Those damned googly eyes. 

 

Viktor conveniently realized he was empty-handed the moment Jayce sprang up the steps to his childhood home. Jayce, noticing Viktor was trailing slightly behind, wasted no time to jump back down to meet him and returned to his animated chatter, excitedly darting around Viktor like a freaking game of whack-a-mole come to life. 

 

Viktor replied with quiet hums of agreement, scattered affirmations to keep Jayce talking while his focus drifted elsewhere. His gaze was locked on the house before him, absorbing every detail. A sturdy wooden fence circled the property, its charm enhanced by the beautiful, hand-made letterbox engraved with a surname.  A short path slithered through the modest front garden, one Viktor could imagine to bloom verdantly in the spring. There was a lone, robust tree to the left, its branches stretching skyward. 

 

A fleeting vision sparked in Viktor’s mind, one where he was kneeling by the stone foundation in a warmer climate, planting pollinating flowers while his hands were tainted with soil. He saw plants growing and blooming under his care. 

 

And then a hollow laugh echoed inside him, the sound vibrating in a bewildered emptiness living within. In what world would he ever be capable of remaining bent down for hours of physical labour, on his already aching limb, attempting to coax beauty from the earth. It was a dream so distant it might as well belong to someone else entirely. Just like this property.

 

The facade loomed before him, welcoming from the warm stones placed upon it. The large upper-level windows offered no glimpse within, and three stone steps led to a wooden door adorned with a golden knocker. It was a picture-perfect scene that resembled what he’d occasionally glimpsed on TV screens.

 

Viktor was struck silent. Something within him curled with inadequacy, his chest pulled tight to the point of pain. It was not an inadequacy of the mind, no. 

 

It was the type of inadequacy of the being . As if what was before him could never truly belong to him, as if these realities were not to be engaged by people such as him. He had never been anything like those who inhabited these houses, from what he’d seen in the movies. The door swung open.

 

“Baby!” A female voice greeted Jayce. He flung his arms around the small frame before him. 

 

“Hey, ma,” he answered in a warm, muffled tone. Jayce turned and extended an arm towards Viktor, who was brought back to the present moment in a blink. “This is Viktor. He’s spending Christmas with us, is that alright?” 

 

Jayce's mother was slightly taller than Viktor, but roughly around the same build. She was elegant, with tan skin and high cheekbones, a button nose and big dark brown eyes– ones that seemed to radiate with an inner world that was brimming with a vast variety of emotions.

 

Her hair was of the same color, as were her thick eyebrows. Her tight curls were tied in a messy bun except for one that’d chosen rebellion, falling upon her right cheek where a mole rested far below the corner of her eye. Viktor immediately sensed her strength of character. She was dressed in a cosy red sweater and blue jeans, and she gasped the moment her eyes fell upon Viktor. 

 

“Thank you for having me,” Viktor said quickly. “Is this too much trouble? It’s coming to attention now that I’ve come not only empty-handed, but also uninvited.”

 

Jayce frowned at Viktor while his mother beamed at him. 

 

And it clicked then, where Jayce got his deep well of profound emotionality, why Jayce was so transparent with it, continuously filled with life. 

 

He might not physically resemble his mother, but the moment she smiled with such unadulterated joy, all Viktor saw was Jayce etched into the broad corners of her mouth, in the crinkles around the corners of her eyes and especially, in the breathtaking twinkle gleaming in her regard. It shone with kindness.

 

“Nonsense!” She exclaimed with excitement. Warm hands found Viktor’s and she squeezed, a familiar tension at the unexpected touch immediately locking up his spine. “I’m so happy to finally meet you, my darling. I’ve heard all about you!” Viktor got the sense she was itching to fling her arms around him, but was restraining herself, which he was relieved for. “Jayce has been speaking of you nonstop. I was beginning to worry you were but a figment of his vivid imagination. Wouldn’t be the first time,” she snickered with a wink.

 

Viktor smiled sheepishly and Jayce stared at him for a moment before rolling his eyes. 

 

“Maaaaaaa,” he whined, raising a hand to cover his face.

 

She smirked at Viktor. “He doesn’t like it when I embarrass him.” 

 

Viktor found himself returning the gesture. “You’ll have to teach me how to do it so efficiently.”

 

At that, the woman cackled. 

 

“I definitely like him,” she confirmed with ease and much to Viktor’s surprise. 

 

Jayce groaned and mumbled something about this being a terrible idea before stepping into the house. Her attention returned to Viktor, homeliness coating her expression. 

 

“If you ever feel so inclined as to want a hug from me, please let me know,” she asked kindly. Viktor’s eyes widened slightly at the consideration. “You are so very welcome here, my darling. Come, come.” 

 

She tugged him inside and told him to call her Meni, despite her name being Ximena. Apparently, all people that mattered referred to her as such, and Viktor couldn’t quite fathom why he’d been placed into that category. 

 

He was introduced to Jayce’s family, shook hands with each guest and greeted them one by one. There were so many of them that he eventually lost track of names and familial relations. He did recall Caitlyn, Jayce’s proclaimed sister, and her friend with pink hair named Vi. He remembered the latter because he was surprised to find she was also from Zaun. They chatted for a while and it was strange to find that Viktor did not feel like a complete outsider in this room. He could tell Vi felt the same. Unfortunately, both women had a party to attend and decided to leave the gathering rather early.

 

Which is how Viktor had found himself sitting on a couch in the living room an hour later, surrounded by people having loud discussions, drowned by music with a variety of instruments that resembled a living heartbeat. A rhythm that called to move, to sway, to surrender.

 

And that was exactly what some people had taken to do in the middle of the room, hands in hands, others gripping waists, hips swishing. They were graceful in their dancing, and it made Viktor wonder if that ability was genetically passed down. Would Jayce be as suave with his own movements? Could he even dance at all?

 

Viktor wasn’t sure whether or not he was supposed to be staring at them as his mind roamed, so he didn’t, just to be sure.

 

Jayce was sitting next to him, his warm knee grazing his own in silent comfort, while he was engrossed in a fervent discussion about Harry Potter with an eight-year-old girl.

 

“You can’t hate Ron. He’s one of the main characters!” 

 

“Yes, I can,” she clipped, matter-of-factly. “He’s a coward. And I hate Dumbledore and I hate Snape.”  

 

“But-but, hold on! HOLD ON!” Jayce was saying, his voice getting comically louder as the girl giggled. “You’ve read all the way to the end, right?” She bobbed her head enthusiastically. “So, how can you?!” 

 

“I don’t know. They give me the ick.” Viktor snorted, and Jayce gave him a side-glare. 

 

“That’s not a good enough argument, Mira. Come on, there has to be something more, hate is a big word.” 

 

She shifted uncomfortably in her feet and Viktor held his tongue no longer.

 

“Mira, would you like me to tap in for you? Let’s see how he fends against someone his own size.”

 

The child grinned devilishly and high-fived the hand Viktor had extended, his palm facing to the ceiling between them. The clap echoed loudly and Viktor turned to face Jayce. 

 

“First and foremost, I cannot express how rude you’ve been to Miss Mira this evening. Woman-intuition is a very valid reason not to like someone, and that is what my client has displayed. Perhaps it cannot be put into words easily, but it is a real feeling nonetheless and a perfectly acceptable argument in most circumstances, including this one.” Jayce was humorously gaping at the deviltry emanating from Viktor, his mouth curving with a barely perceptible amusement. Mira had come to stand next to Viktor and it was as if she’d been electrified with joy, giggling and making faces at Jayce with nothing but unadulterated delight. 

 

“Secondly,” Viktor pressed on and enumerated with his fingers, “Ron is, in fact, a sleazy coward. Point to Mira. Dumbledore is a sociopath who was obsessed with power, regardless of the cost. Point to Mira. And Snape was a creep who tormented an orphan because he looked like his bully and not the girl he was obsessed with. Point to Mira.” 

 

Jayce gasped and Mira howled. Viktor couldn’t help the smile on his face at the unfiltered sound. She invaded Viktor with a side-hug and a tight squeeze, before jumping away again. Viktor pretended that it didn’t happen because he had no idea what to do with it. He seemed to be causing a good impression on a child for once and he was terrified to screw it up. 

 

“Dumbledore did what he could with the information he had!” Jayce protested. “And Snape loved Lily until the moment he died. A love so profound that regardless of her absence, his adoration remained. His heart pumped her name with every breath, his mind held her treasured memory intact with every passing year without her. Even though she chose differently, he still stood loyal to his perceived soulmate! Come on!” 

 

It surprised Viktor to find that Jayce being a hopeless romantic wasn’t a shock. It was sweet and it perfectly integrated with the rest of who he seemed to be. Mira looked up to Viktor and Viktor returned her attention with a pointed look, which immediately had her bursting with sounds of elation anew. 

 

“Are you telling me–” Viktor began slowly, “–that if Harry hadn’t been a girl, Snape wouldn’t have had a completely different relationship with Lily’s child? More protective, more caring and adoring, perhaps? He failed his so-called love for her by letting his childish insecurities lead his thinking process, and failed to help with Harry’s horrid upbringing. In fact, he actively made it worse for him by ostracizing him, humiliating him and openly despising him. Ergo, he failed Lily’s unspoken wishes all the same. Which would not have happened if his love had been truly as pure as you claim.” 

 

Jayce stuttered. “I- bu- I-” Viktor and Mira giggled in unison. “But it’s a life-altering story!” 

 

“You saying that when the author is a raging transphobe and publicly renowned venomous bigot is not a great look on you. You truly don’t have a leg to stand on here.” 

 

Jayce harrumphed, crossing his arms and slumping on the couch in a goofy manner. “That’s rich coming from you.” 

 

There was a moment of quiet before Viktor’s hand flew to his mouth in an attempt to keep the roar inside it. But it was no use, the laughter erupted from him, shot through his fingers and into the room before them.

 

Mira stared between them for a moment, confused as to what had been so amusing, but then she began to laugh as well, contaged by Viktor’s hysterics. It grew, and before he knew it, the two of them were howling together.

 

Jayce was staring and staring, chuckling alongside them with something drawn in his gaze that Viktor had no idea how to interpret as he bore his eyes into the side of his face.

 

“JAYCE. TALIS,” a feminine voice boomed from the doorway that led to the kitchen. Ximena was glaring at his son and Jayce immediately shrank in his seat at the scolding tone, which made Viktor rupture anew. 

 

“It was a joke!” He shrieked in a panic, scrummaging to his feet at once and rushing to find his mother, who’d disappeared into the kitchen. Probably an explanation was in order. How Ximena had heard his comeback all the way from another room, especially with so much noise around them, was truly baffling to Viktor. 

 

He felt a coughing fit looming due to a birthed itch in his throat, lungs already burning with the unexpected effort. Before he excused himself, he leaned towards Mira with a smile still broad on his face. 

 

“Your cousin is an idiot, you know that?” 

 

She nodded enthusiastically, still beaming at Viktor. 

 

“Yeah." She shrugged. "But I kinda’ like him like that.” 

 

Viktor snickered. “You and me, both,” he found himself admitting.

 

///

 

Viktor found a quiet room to hide in before his coughing took over. It was violent and as much as he tried to dampen the wet sounds bursting from his mouth with his handkerchief, it was anything if not conspicuous. 

 

Once subsided, and with trembling hands, he pulled away the cloth and stared down at it. 

 

There were droplets of blood coating the fabric, and a scarlet splotch in the center-- bigger than he'd ever coughed up before.

 

A knot tightened in his throat and his stomach churned. 

 

At least he could confidently state now that he was getting worse. The proof was in the pudding. 

 

He folded the evidence and tucked it away in his pocket, leaning back on the furniture. A metallic taste trickled down his throat as Viktor attempted to swallow any residues, accompanied by deep breaths meant to help him return to some semblance of normalcy. 

 

The heavy fatigue seemed most crippling of all, at times. One that begged him to lie down and stay down.

 

“Here you are,” a feminine voice said soothingly. Ximena silently walked into the room, leaving the door ajar behind her. Viktor met her worried gaze and gave her a tentative upward tug of his lips. 

 

“I apologise for intruding on your privacy,” he rasped. “I did not want to change the mood.” 

 

“None of that,” she cooed. She came to a stop when she stood beside him. Ximena pointed to his mobility aid. "May I move this?"

 

Viktor gestured in invitation. She shifted it to lean against the coffee table instead and sat next to him, placing a glass of water on the wooden surface before them. Viktor nodded in gratitude. She dropped the bag she was carrying against the couch.

 

Ximena glanced around the room and sighed deeply. Viktor followed her gaze and studied his environment for the first time since he’d come in. 

 

The room was square and cosy, each wall indented inwards with a make-shift wooden bookcase stretching from floor to ceiling. Except for the wall to the left, which had a fireplace and a marble countertop. 

 

It was breathtaking. He suddenly itched to peruse each shelf. There had to be hundreds of books in this room alone. 

 

“It’s funny how you unknowingly found my favorite corner of this house,” she said with a sad smile. “My husband and I used to sit here, playing soft music while we each read to ourselves. He used to sit in that green armchair, and I used to lie down on this couch with a blanket while the fireplace crackled. It’s one of my fondest memories with him. We were alone, but in each other’s company. It was delicious.” 

 

Viktor softly smiled at her in turn, trying to imagine what that could look like. To be so comfortable around someone else that solitude was best spent together. He reached for the cup and swallowed several gulps of water in an attempt to prepare his raw throat for speech. 

 

“I can see why it’s your favorite,” he confessed after a moment. She placed a warm hand on his shoulder.

 

“Please, make yourself at home. I know what it’s like to need some space from large crowds, so stay for as long as you like. You are under no obligation to do anything but be faithful to yourself and whatever version of you comes out in each moment. We’re all just happy you’re here.” 

 

Viktor felt completely disarmed at the admission and began to stammer. 

 

“I- do- I- than- you- wh- I don’t understand,” he finally blurted out. Ximena laughed to herself, retracting her hands and folding them in her lap. 

 

“I’m sorry, I’ve been told I can be quite intense.” Viktor was shaking his head, but she spoke before he could untangle his tongue from his mouth. She observed him caringly. “My son has told me ad nauseam how brilliant you are, and how driven you are to help others with that talent. That is a character trait that I admire profoundly in both of you. And seeing you come to Mira’s defense, as silly as it might sound, only confirmed what was already known.”

 

She had crinkles in the corners of her eyes–ones that reminded Viktor of her son–as she beheld Viktor, and he swallowed the lump forming in his throat.

 

“I have had the privilege of seeing my baby boy come to life for the last few months," she proceeded. "After his father passed away in his teens, something dimmed inside him. And don’t get me wrong, he did a phenomenal job at pretending he was fine and whole. In my very biased opinion, he grew into a beautiful adult.” She tilted her head sideways to give Viktor a pointed look and a dejected smile, her voice breaking mid-sentence. “But a mother knows.” 

 

Ximena sighed, attempting to find her composure by softly caressing her palms on the rough denim against her thighs. “You’ve sparked to life a version of my son that I hadn’t seen in years, one I’d profoundly missed and wondered if I’d ever meet again.” She was smiling anew, something warm and tender as she stared at her moving fingers, now quietly fidgeting. “He’s hopeful again, charged with a type of statically charged energy that reminds me of his youth and how I have no idea how to calm for my own sanity,” she chuckled to herself. Ximena glanced at Viktor anew, who was stupefied and immobilized in his seat. “You did so not because you tried, not because you intended to, but because your existence simply had that rippling effect. He sees much of himself reflected in you, and that recognition is one of the truest sources of feeling alive. The power of connection. Humanity at its finest, if you will. So,” she continued cheerfully, wiping a tear that had fallen down her cheek. “He chose you. Consequently, so do we. Which leads me to the next matter of business.” 

 

She reached down and grabbed the bag from the floor. Viktor’s eyes had watered and he was begging everything inside him not to cry. He’d never heard such beautiful words come out of someone’s mouth before. He desperately wanted to be alone to even attempt to begin processing what Ximena had shared with him. She extended the bag towards him. 

 

“Merry Christmas, Viktor.” He glanced at the bag, and then at Ximena. Twice. Thrice. When understanding fell upon him, he began to wave his quivering arms in front of him and shook his head. 

 

“No, please. I cannot. I have nothing to give back, I cannot, please,” he was blabbering and his voice was wobbling with emotion he could no longer repress.

 

“My darling, don’t you see?” She smiled delicately at him. "You've already given. More than you could possibly imagine."

 

Something inside Viktor broke, yet was simultaneously remade. Failing to rein in his emotions, a tear treacherously dampened his cheek.

 

“Let me please express my gratitude. For believing in my son, for joining him for the better and amplifying his already crazy ideas into far crazier ones. And for choosing him in turn.” She raised her palm between them tentatively. “May I?” 

 

Viktor was having an out-of-body experience and didn’t realise he’d nodded. Ximena cupped his cheek and brushed his tears away with a soft curve to her lips. One swipe, two. The warmth of the gesture just made him want to cry harder. 

 

This is what he’d been missing? Is this what mothers were meant to feel like?  

 

She folded her hands in her lap once more. 

 

“Come on. Open it.” 

 

Viktor obeyed, considering he had absolutely no strength whatsoever to do otherwise. His fingers shook as he peeled the bag open and looked inside. 

 

“It was my husband’s,” Ximena confessed with a bite to her lip. “When you walked in today and I saw your eyes, they immediately reminded me of it. I hope it’s not uncomfortable that I am giving it to you. But I think it would suit you lovingly, and you’ll give it a far better use than the wardrobe it was abandoned in.” 

 

Viktor pulled out the modest V-necked sweater. It was big, far too big for Viktor, but it was incredibly soft to the touch. It was honey-colored, a deep and rich amber that made Viktor think of comfort and beauty and fall and– 

 

“Could I have that hug now?” He choked out. 

 

Ximena grinned at him. She wrapped her arms around him and he returned the gesture, warmth seeping into Viktor’s bones. Not quite like Jayce’s, something quieter and smoother. 

 

“Thank you, Mrs. Talis,” he whispered in her embrace. 

 

“It’s Meni to you, my darling,” she reminded him with profound delicacy. “And thank you back.” 

 

They held each other for another moment before the door swung open, causing Viktor to bounce in his seat. 

 

“Found them!” Mira shouted, her voice slicing through the air. Meni laughed quietly, the sound warm and rich in Viktor’s ear, as if she had been expecting this moment to happen at any given second. In a blink, Jayce was casually leaning into the open door, hand brushing the handle as his gaze lingered, studying the embrace unfolding before him with quiet curiosity.

 

“What did I miss?” He asked cautiously. 

 

Meni groaned, a sound that very much reminded Viktor of the person who had just walked into the room. He chuckled at the resemblance. Her hand caressed his shoulder as she retreated, but not before cupping Viktor’s cheek once more, gleefully analyzing the cast of his features.

 

“He’s so nosy,” she complained with a scrunch to her nose. She stuck her tongue out at Jayce, and Viktor was amused to see him replicate the gesture. “I’ll leave you guys be.” With a final wink, she stood. 

 

Before stepping out, Viktor heard her murmur to Jayce. “Light the fireplace, baby. I think he might be freezing.”

 

And so Jayce closed the door behind him and lit up the fireplace without another word. 

 

As Jayce worked, Viktor began to feel the exhaustion seep into him. Of his work day, of meeting new people, of being in an environment with so much noise occurring at all times, of the emotional conversation he’d shared with Jayce’s mother. All of it was colliding into the forefront of his brain and sinking into every corner of his body. 

 

“You look like you’re desperate to lie down,” Jayce offered in a low tone. Viktor inhaled to express his denial, but instead something entirely different slipped out. 

 

“I would love that.” 

 

Jayce flashed a grin in his direction and while Viktor didn’t understand why the confession brought so much genuine radiance to his lab partner, he let it be. Jayce waited, arms crossed, for Viktor to move. He raised a brow when Viktor did not.

 

“In a minute,” he grumbled. 

 

A shaky sigh rumbled out of Jayce.

 

“Please, don’t kick me in the face for this,” Jayce murmured.

 

Without another word, Jayce got on one knee before Viktor and began to untie his shoes. Everything snapped taut within Viktor, seeing Jayce to his side, so close to his lap, caring for him . It momentarily made Viktor feel incompetent, which he despised. 

 

Yet...

 

Yet. 

 

It was so achingly soft. So painfully genuine. There was no residue of Jayce doing this for his own belief of a falsely perceived inability, but almost as if he couldn't wait for Viktor to finally rest. He looked shy as he stared at his working digits, half in prayer that he'd survive the attempt.

 

It was the first time Viktor realised he wanted to grab his lab partner’s stupid face and kiss him for it.

 

The urge slapped him in the face with tremendous force. Something inside him gasped in horror. Oh, no. 

 

Oh, no, no, no, no, no. 

 

He shook the thought out of his head at once. Locked it in a box, hurled it deep inside him and swallowed the key.

 

“God, you don’t have to do that,” he tried, a strain to his voice and limbs frozen in a complete state of paralysis. 

 

“I know. But you look really spent, and I want to.” He had no energy to complain or fight, and a part of him was scientifically curious as to what would happen if he simply let it be. He breathed. In and out, in and out. 

 

Jayce was still working at his laces with a small smile, none the wiser to the turmoil that had just taken over Viktor a second ago, as per usual. 

 

“Unless it’s making you uncomfortable, which I assume it might but not too much, otherwise I’d be on my ass right now.”  

 

Viktor laughed under his breath. 

 

“That’s eerily accurate.” Jayce’s smile widened and his eyes crinkled, proud of himself for being correct in his hypothesis. He set Viktor’s shoes aside. He reached for a cushion and gave it to Viktor, who settled it behind his sore back, finally stretching his legs before him on the couch. Despite still wearing his leg brace, being horizontal brought him an immediate sense of profound relief. 

 

“I don’t think I have the energy to engage in conversation,” Viktor confessed. Jayce’s eyes softened as he watched him. 

 

“How about we do what we do in the lab? I can choose a book to read aloud so you can rest your brain and still be entertained, if you so choose.” 

 

“Urgh,” Viktor let out. “Can’t you give it a rest? Why do you always have to come up with perfect ideas on the spot? It’s infuriating.” 

 

Jayce snickered to himself. 

 

“I’ll remind you tomorrow when you’re yourself again that you confidently admitted, out loud, that my ideas are perfect.” 

 

Viktor closed his eyes and let his body succumb to the plushness of the furniture. 

 

“Unbearable,” Viktor said to himself. He faintly heard amused huffs somewhere to his right. 

 

After a while, Jayce’s calloused hands enveloped his ankles softly as he plucked Viktor’s legs and lifted them. He sat with a cushion on his lap, bringing them back down on top of it. Viktor had no mind to protest, especially when raising his leg alleviated his nipping pains even further. 

 

It surprised Viktor to find that there was no rejection from his body at the close contact. After months working in close proximity, Viktor had grown accustomed to the texture of Jayce’s calloused hands, Jayce's enveloping warmth, his stubborn nearness. It was no longer entirely new. Still surprisingly comforting at times, like the one currently. 

 

But now Viktor was highly aware of the fact that his legs were resting on Jayce’s lap , the back of his thighs brushing against the side of Jayce’s legs before meeting cushy fabric. His body temperature flooded Viktor without warning, bringing a mellowness to Viktor’s mind and body that he could not control. He hummed in deep satisfaction.

 

After a silent pause, the sound of flipping pages intertwined with the crackling wood, and Jayce began to read an excerpt from a book about quantum entanglement, immediately making Viktor feel at home.

 

Which was strange, because Viktor had never understood what that concept was meant to feel like. Home.  

 

But here, and now, it unexpectedly hit him with an intensity which was impossible to ignore. Joy and gratitude kept bubbling in his chest, and as much as he desperately wanted to cling to this moment, to enjoy it for everything it was, to listen to Jayce’s soothing cadence and indulge in the interesting topic he’d chosen, it was to no avail. 

 

Sleep pulled him under before Jayce finished the first paragraph.

Notes:

TW: Description of what unconsented physical touch feels like, touch trauma, illness, blood

///

V gesturing to ximena to take his cane feels like such a power move to me. Something about V screams "fucking try me" in my head

I'll confess, I'm not a crier when it comes to reading and writing, but for some reason Ximena forced it out of me in this chapter. Are these... mommy issues? What? WHO SAID THAT?!!

fuck the author who must not be named, fuck her all the way to her grave

Jayce does something caring
V: how fucking dare he I'm about to pop off
V: *realizes J is actually low key scared of him but does it anyway* awwwww LETS MAKE OUT

 

Not V feeling so safe around jayce that he can't help fall asleep 😭 my man who's always stressed our around others 😭

As always, any feedback and/or overall opinion is not only welcome, but deeply appreciated <3

Thank you SO much for your comments and interactions <3 they bring me tremendous joy :')

Chapter 12: (F) It seems you have a pattern of liking problematic magicians.

Summary:

Follow-up to the christmas hang

Notes:

TW IN ENDNOTES

holysHAT YOU GUYS, WE 'RE OVER 100 KUDOS??? I am completely flabberghasted, it brings me such immense joy to know that something I've been doing solely for fun and had expected a whole of 3 people (if that many!) to read has been so kindly received. THANK YOU!!! And thank you to every single person that has commented, you've made my day each time <3

FLASHBACK

 

“V,” Jayce murmured, once the sole remnants within the fireplace were ash and embers. 

 

Viktor had been asleep for hours, completely surrendered to Morpheus' embrace. Despite it, Jayce had continued to read aloud in case Viktor rustled awake and felt inclined to tune in. 

 

It wasn’t long after they’d begun to work together that Jayce caught on to the fact that Viktor relentlessly demanded more of his body than it was able to give. Viktor always tried his best to camouflage his physical strains from Jayce, to what end he wasn’t entirely sure, but Jayce had a nasty habit of learning to read the people he found interesting, and Viktor had been no exception in that regard. Jayce did his best to respect his lab partner's privacy, since clearly Viktor’s slippery demeanor in regards to the topic of his health was not by chance, but by meticulous choice. 

 

But that didn’t stop Jayce from observing him.

 

And, even though Viktor would never admit it, Jayce could sense that Viktor’s body begged him to find moments to recover its fleeting reserves of energy, despite his mind needing no such rest. He found such pleas in the increasing tightness in Viktor’s head turns as the day progressed, in the constant battle against the plummeting weight leaning on the tips of his shoulders, in the shades of purples and violets painted under his eyes, in the trembling fingers coated in chalk still determined to dance against the board. It was as if Viktor’s body called to Jayce for help, and Jayce listened. He listened and desperately wanted to sing back I’m here, I see you, especially considering Viktor was a master at dismissing each perceived supplication. To no one’s surprise, Viktor found the act of rest a monumental waste of his precious time. 

 

Even when exhaustion pulled him under at early hours in the morning, Jayce had seen him scare himself awake one too many times, as if he’d caught himself indulging in a forbidden fruit. Viktor ended up sprawled over his desk at times as if his body would not bill him for it in the morning. Despite Viktor not uttering a single complaint, being the stubborn bastard that he was, Jayce did not miss the quiet pursing of lips, the discreet back massages, the concealed grimaces and the deeper limps that followed his rousing. It made Jayce want to swish it all away, somehow.

 

Jayce had taken to discovering new ways to integrate intervals of repose into their routine without calling to attention to what Viktor seemed so adamant on keeping in the dark. 

 

He hadn’t been very successful as of yet.

 

The one middle ground Jayce had managed in order to secretly encourage his partner to slow down was keeping Viktor’s alert mind engaged and distracted with his reading. 

 

Oftentimes, in the sanctuary of their lab, Viktor allowed Jayce to audibly study and eventually gave in, closing his eyes with the excuse that his mind was still busy at work. Whenever Jayce itched with the suspicion that Viktor was no longer conscious, he’d surprisingly interject with a perfectly relevant comment in a clear and pristine tone. 

 

That had not been the case today. 

 

There was no question that Viktor was completely comatose before him. His lips had parted and his breaths sounded heavy and ragged. Jayce was profoundly honored that Viktor had finally relented to his needs without a fight while lying in his company. 

 

Jayce had continued to enunciate to the room, enveloped by a tranquil softness that only confirmed that he was exactly where he wanted to be. Even if Viktor was not participating this time, he couldn’t seem to stop either. He was drunk on the velvet comfort that quieted something within him with every inhale, as well as every exhale, fleeing his lab partner's lips. 

 

Jayce hadn’t been willing to risk this moment ending before he was ready, like he’d been holding a precious bird nestled between the cups of his hands.

 

Jayce also did not want his lab partner to freak out if he were to come to his senses and found his legs splayed on top of Jayce without a care in the world. He’d thought that, perhaps, if Viktor heard his voice before making sense of his unknown environment, he’d remember nothing was amiss. 

 

Viktor mumbled in his sleep and Jayce smiled softly. He had the urge to tuck him in and despite being used to having these impulses around people he cared about, there was something slightly different about how he experienced them with Viktor that he couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out. 

 

As Jayce watched him deep in slumber, he couldn’t help but notice how peaceful Viktor looked. Without pain, without coughing… It had been a rough awakening, a slap of realisation in regards to the things, big and small, he’d always taken for granted all of his life. Like having a functioning body, one that was always at the ready to obey his every whim. 

 

His admiration for Viktor grew in leaps each passing day. Which was perhaps why his caring nature was so viciously aware around him. 

 

Viktor had gotten to where he was on his own, despite every obstacle thrown his way. Jayce had a gut feeling he would have never managed to face half of the adversities Viktor had had to survive– and he suspected he didn’t even know the half of it.

 

His smile widened at the thought of Viktor listening to his train of thought and reaching to throttle him for even entertaining these speculations.

 

Still, one thing he knew for certain: Jayce did not want Viktor to be on his own ever again.

 

As he contemplated him, Viktor’s hair was disheveled, but the curls at the tips remained. His chocolate fluff reached below his ear and scattered outwardly with crinkles and spirals. At times, Viktor truly embodied the look of a mad scientist and Jayce loved how much it suited him. 

 

But there was one curl in particular that always seemed to stare back. It was the one Viktor created himself, by twirling it with his finger whenever he was deep in thought. Round and round his digit went, and sometimes Jayce found himself entranced by the motion. It stuck out from the rest and Jayce could always discern it with but a fleeting glance. Jayce had taken to calling it Tabitha, in his mind.

 

It was getting late, and despite still hearing the echoes of laughter and dancing in the adjacent room, he knew Viktor would appreciate removing his brace and slipping into an actual bed. He hadn’t planned on staying, but now he couldn’t imagine leaving to the frigidity of his cramped apartment, by himself. 

 

He hoped Viktor felt the same way, considering he was their designated driver. 

 

Leaving the book aside, Jayce placed one hand on Viktor’s ankle and another on his shin. However, instead of waking Viktor, that seemed to settle him further. He gave two tentative squeezes. 

 

“Wake up, V,” he said a bit louder. 

 

Viktor’s eyes snapped open and Jayce made an effort not to burst out laughing. He always looked like a vampire rising from the deepest of torpors every time he was woken up. He inhaled sharply, eyes dramatically wide. He unblinkingly stared into the abyss for a moment as he allowed his mind to catch up to what his body already knew (that he was, indeed, awake). His lids drooped slightly and Viktor blinked a couple of times before he finally glanced at Jayce. His body slowly relaxed anew. 

 

“Hey,” Jayce said with a smile. Viktor studied him for a quiet instant and then took in a lazy, loud breath while he stretched his arms above his head. His body shook with the effort. Viktor sighed and re-met Jayce’s expectant expression with a flustered upwards curve to his mouth. 

 

“Hi.” 

 

Jayce blinked at the sight. Then, he remembered what he was meant to say.

 

“Wanna go to bed? We can sleep here tonight, if you’d like.” 

 

Understanding and dread flickered in Viktor’s expression.

 

“Oh, God. I totally fell asleep, didn’t I? Shit, what time is it?” 

 

Jayce chuckled.

 

“It’s eleven thirty P.M. And it’s more than okay, I actually had a great time.”

 

Viktor studied him for a moment. 

 

“Was it because I was mute while unconscious?” 

 

Jayce laughed. “ Especially because you were mute while unconscious. We should try it again, sometime.” 

 

Viktor gave him a loop-sided smile and swatted whatever part of Jayce he could reach from that position, which in this case was his thigh, eliciting a snickering sound out of him. 

 

“You can sleep in my room for the night, and I’ll drive us to work in the morning, deal?” Jayce asked.

 

Viktor sat up on his elbows and roamed his eyes over Jayce’s expression, his lids narrowing ever so slightly. Jayce kept his face open under the scrutiny. 

 

“It is quite late,” he guiltily agreed. “Are you sure you’re okay with this? Where are you going to sleep?” 

 

Jayce shrugged. 

 

“My mum has a spare bedroom. If not, there are couches. Don’t worry, I can rest anywhere. It’s the fantastic advantage of sleeping like the dead.” 

 

Viktor seemed to consider for another moment before nodding. 

 

“Okay,” he voiced. “Okay. Let’s go.” 

 

Jayce led Viktor to the bathroom, handing him a towel, a large sweatshirt and some sweatpants, along with some cosy socks he had in his wardrobe. He let his mother know of their new plans, to which she expressed pure delight. While Viktor used the washroom, Jayce changed into a purple tank top and some gray sweats. When he walked into his room, his mother had begun to change the sheets in his bed.

 

He thanked her and silently joined her.

 

“So,” Jayce began after a moment. “You like him, then.” 

 

She grinned immediately. 

 

“I love him. He’s a spicy little thing, isn’t he? I can see why you guys click, he’s all mush inside. I'm hopeful we might become friends.”

 

Mush?   

 

Viktor?!

 

Jayce wondered if he was missing an extremely important piece of information about his lab partner. Then, his mother’s words registered and he groaned. 

 

“Ma, you can’t just befriend my work colleagues!” 

 

She scoffed. “And why not?” 

 

Jayce considered for a moment and felt annoyed when he came back empty-handed.

 

“I don’t know! Conflict of interest?" He blabbed, grasping at whatever came to mind, only to conclude, "Find your own friends!” 

 

“You’re jealous,” she sang under her breath. Jayce frowned at the words and jiggled his head in confusion. 

 

“What? Of course not, why would I be jealous? Don’t make it weird, ma.” 

 

She snickered at the rebuking tone. “Have you been able to hug that man yet? Or has he shoved you away at every turn?” 

 

Jayce pulled the sheets in his bed, flattening the crinkles rippling on the surface. His mother did the same on the other end. 

 

“And what makes you think I’d go around hugging my lab partner?” 

 

She gave him the look. He reciprocated, refusing to back down over such a nonsensical conversation. After a moment of prolonged eye contact, she continued with the chore as if nothing.

 

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because I know my son.” 

 

Jayce rolled his eyes, smiling.

 

“You can’t just win every argument with the same ambiguous conclusion, ma."

 

“Says who?" She smirked.  

 

Jayce shook his head.

 

They worked in silence for a couple of minutes and Jayce tried to piece together what she’d said. Maybe she was right. Maybe there'd been a part of him that had been deeply impressed by how his mother had achieved, in several hours no less, to get such a genuine embrace from Viktor. He began to wonder if she was a being born of magic. 

 

“He’s a good boy,” she added under her breath. “He’s got deep-rooted values and oomph . You don’t meet a lot of people like that, nowadays.” 

 

Jayce paused, incredulous.

 

" Oomph ?" 

 

"Yeah, you know."

 

Jayce stared.

 

She placed a hand on her hip and clarified with a gesture. " Oomph. "

 

A blink. "I don't know."

 

"What do you mean you don't know?" 

 

"I don't know what that is, ma!" Jayce protested with some childish frustration. "Can it be measured in some way?"

 

"No," she chuckled softly. "You just know it when you see it."

 

Jayce shifted on his feet.

 

"And this is the sort of descriptor you rely on?!" He asked, befuddled. What a confusing reality, where concepts didn't have definitions. His mother sniggered and it made him want to mock her right back.

 

He smirked with mischief and intoned with casual ridicule, "What about dad? Did he have... 'oomph' ?"

 

His mother gave him an evil, knowing smile. 

 

"Oh, honey. Your dad was the oomph ." 

 

Jayce made a noise of disgust, regretting his decision immediately. His body recoiled with the image of whatever that tone implied. His mother laughed.

 

Jayce was still grinning when he reached for the folded blanket he’d placed in the desk chair. The smile slowly faded as he glanced back at his mother and saw her expression, lost in thought. Inhaling deeply, Jayce spoke from his gut.

 

“Why do I feel a but incoming?" 

 

She sighed. His mum extended her palms and Jayce handed her two corners of the fabric, both taking a couple of steps back before placing it over the sheets.

 

“He tries to conceal it, but that cough doesn’t sound like anything I’ve ever heard.” She folded the extremity of the sheet over the laid out blanket and plumped his pillow. Pausing, her worry became evident in every line in her face, her mouth pursed into a straight line. Jayce waited for the damning words. “I fear it might be worse than he’s letting on, baby.” 

 

Jayce’s chest squeezed as he finished tucking the blanket under the mattress, the outspoken words hitting him like a punch to his lungs. As always, she had a way to voice Jayce’s most intimate fears without really trying. A deafening bell was ringing inside him of a concern he’d been pressing down and had attempted to somewhat ignore. It now bellowed, reverberating Jayce's entire reality with the unprompted confirmation. 

 

“Yeah,” he confessed into the quietness of his room. “Yeah, me too.” 

 

///

 

Jayce was sitting on his bed alone, mulling over the words his mother had spoken.

 

It seemed as though hearing somebody else announce what he’d been too scared to consider for himself flung open the door to a topic he could no longer fully ignore. He knew he had to bring it up, but he did not know how. Or when. What if it wasn’t well received? Perhaps Viktor didn’t see him as good a friend as Jayce saw Viktor, causing Viktor to potentially curse him out and force him to mind his own business. Which he could understand, even if he didn’t want to.

 

Still, any of those outcomes made Jayce want to scratch his skin raw. The idea that Viktor wouldn’t want Jayce to be anywhere near his life beyond their work turned his stomach into knots, nausea coating his mouth.

 

Jayce was so consumed by his tormented imagination that he didn’t notice Viktor had returned until he began to speak. 

 

“Oh, my God. Is that… Criss Angel?” Viktor asked, aghast. 

 

Jayce snapped his head up and stared at the poster Viktor was examining. He was leaning on his cane and standing to the side, hair damp from his shower and his profile lit by the warm light seeping through the open door.

 

“It seems you have a pattern of liking problematic magicians.”

 

Before he could bring his full attention to it, his eyes caught a glimpse of translucent skin and followed the sight immediately. 

 

Viktor was wearing a sweatshirt Jayce had kept from college that was absurdly oversized for his frame. It grazed Viktor’s mid-thigh, slim and elegantly toned legs emerging from the fabric. Fine, dark body hair dusted his limb, which was so unlike Jayce’s thicker curls springing from every follicle. Viktor’s skin curved around his figure in a tight embrace, and the side of his thigh adorned a beautifully delicate furrow, marking where one muscle ended and another began. The descent along the back of his leg was drawn smoothly, and modestly soared anew as his calves emerged. Quiet, refined lines dipped and danced with each subtle movement. 

 

For some inexplicable reason, the sight of Viktor in the present moment elicited images of a graceful swan in Jayce's mind. 

 

He had no idea what that meant. 

 

Viktor was also wearing his thick, comfy socks that scrunched at the ankles. 

 

Jayce blinked.

 

“Um. Y-you forgot your pants, man.” 

 

Viktor peered down at himself. 

 

“Oh! I left them on the table," he informed. "They’re too big for me, I fear I might drown in fabric for the whole night, which makes sleep quite unbearable.” He shifted to face Jayce, pointing to his braced leg as a form of explanation. 

 

Jayce stared anew, a completely new image before him. 

 

Viktor’s skin was flush, the squeezing laces causing his tightened flesh to slightly lump over each strap. 

 

“Doesn’t that hurt?” Jayce found himself delicately asking. Viktor merely shrugged. 

 

“You get used to it.”

 

Jayce couldn’t imagine that to be true, but he let it go. 

 

“And aren’t you going to be cold?” 

 

Viktor chuckled, a slight annoyance underneath the sound. 

 

“What is with all this fussing? Are you trying to distract me from the fact that you had terrible interior design skills as a child? Cause’ all of this is truly concerning,” he gestured around the room. The walls were painted in a dark blue, sport, dance and science trophies alike were scattered across his shelves. He had a periodic table glued next to his desk and above it…

 

The brilliant magician he’d been obsessed with as a kid stared back from the paper taped to the wall. 

 

He’d conveniently forgotten this was his childhood bedroom. It had secrets nobody should be invited to. 

 

That poster included. 

 

“At least I had a room to destroy with my hideous décor. Knowing you, I bet you carried a succulent around to every house you were sent to so you could have a say in ornamentation.” 

 

As soon as the words left his mouth, Jayce realised what he’d said and gasped.

 

Viktor threw his head back and let out a genuine cackle. Jayce knew this because Viktor's hand flew to cover his mouth.

 

"Dude, was that too far?” Jayce asked with wide eyes that shone with both horror and a flicker of amusement, especially after hearing his mum scold him anew in his mind.

 

“Don’t ruin it, Jayce,” Viktor said, quickly dismissing his intrusive thoughts with a final chuckle. He rubbed his belly soothingly, sniffing as he composed himself. “Especially since you just read me to filth." Jayce raised his brows and rested his hands behind him to lean back against his bed, entertained by the prospect. Viktor tilted his chin up. "Her name was Lola, for your information. She was a red-tipped crassula, and she always survived the trips.” 

 

Jayce laughed, a new warmth settling in his chest at the image coming into view in his imagination. Petite Viktor, with a red-tipped plant inside a cute pot in his hands. Dragging pieces of home behind him for a chance to experience it. It made Jayce want to hug Viktor, alongside that version of his past self.

 

Damn. His mother was right. 

 

“She sounds lovely.” 

 

Viktor’s eyes were slightly glazed as he smiled tenderly, the shadow of a memory momentarily pulling him from the present moment. 

 

“Besides,” Viktor added after the slight pause, returning his attention to Jayce with a playful glint in his eyes. “I find this newfound ruthlessness of yours to be, potentially, one of your more redeeming qualities.” 

 

Jayce groaned, rubbing his face before dragging his hand to the back of his neck. 

 

“I swear that side of me only comes out when I’m around you. All it takes is a little bit of tiredness combined with your face, and then, poof! I've blacked out."

 

Viktor wiggled his brows. 

 

“I wonder what that says about me, then.” 

 

Jayce shook his head with an unwavering tilt to his lips.

 

“Don’t even get me started,” Jayce pleaded. "It's one hundred percent your fault." 

 

"Typical," Viktor huffed with a tangled mirth. "I'm terribly sorry for forcing you to bully me with my presence."

 

Jayce snickered. "I’ll think about it. Forgiving you, that is."

 

“How generous.”

 

Viktor’s gaze swept the room once more, his smile faltering the instant his eyes landed on that cursed poster again. His top lip curled with disapproval as he glanced back at Jayce, accusingly pointing toward the magician still perched on the wall.

 

“He’s got to go, though,” Viktor concluded. “I’m saying this for your own good.”

 

Jayce grinned. 

 

“If it's for my own good, how could I say no?” 

 

In reality, the inappropriate comments weren't solely about teasing him with topics that were seen as taboo or off-limits, which he suspected was the main reason Viktor found them so humorous, strange being that he was. 

 

The truth was simpler, and far more selfish: it was the way Jayce’s body was electrified whenever Viktor laughed with abandon. It was the way he threw his head back and let out those extremely rare, uninhibited guffaws that filled whatever room he was in, rattling its foundations and awakening whomever was lucky enough to be around to witness them. 

 

It was the most intoxicating thing.

 

And Jayce didn’t think he would tire of it any time soon. 

 

/// 

 

Jayce jolted awake when something thumped his foot. His eyes snapped open only to see bare legs before him, except one was braced. He dragged his attention upwards with a clinging somnolence, only to find Viktor frowning down at him. 

 

“What are you doing, you creep?”

 

Jayce realised then he’d fallen asleep sitting against the wall that faced Viktor’s room. He had been about to drift to sleep in the library couch when he’d heard echoes of a cough in the distance, and without thinking much about it, he’d stationed himself here for the night.

 

Jayce rubbed his eyes. 

 

“Oh. I, um. Heard some… Commotion. Just felt more comfortable being close by.” 

 

Viktor’s brows drew impossibly closer. 

 

“And you?” He asked quickly, looking up anew. “What are you doing awake?” 

 

Viktor let out a frustrated breath through his nose, jaw slightly clenched.

 

“I can’t sleep with all of this incessant music,” he hissed. Oh, he was pissed. “I was coming to find you. How is it still ongoing? Aren’t they tired? It’s one A.M!” 

 

Jayce laughed, a raspy sound emerging from his throat. 

 

“Yeah, I should’ve warned you about that.” 

 

“God,” he grumbled. He glanced to the side, a fury directed at the end of the corridor. Then, he sighed with resignation and tapped Jayce’s ankle with the tip of his cane. “Come on, then.” Viktor turned and sauntered back to the open door of his room. Jayce swallowed.

 

“Come, where?” 

 

Viktor swivelled and glared at him with profound annoyance. 

 

“I’m not just going to let you sleep on the floor now am I, Jayce? If you’re incapable of not fussing, then just fucking get in here. Your bed is huge, it’s fine.” 

 

To Jayce’s surprise, his body responded without much resistance from his mind. Truthfully, he was tired and just wanted to drop dead. He couldn’t do that peacefully all the way from the other corner of the house, not after everything he’d been thinking about today, especially not after his conversation with his mother. So he just thought, fuck it. He was sure it wouldn’t be the last time he shared a bed with a friend. 

 

Jayce clicked the door behind him as Viktor sat on the bed and undid his brace. Jayce stood there awkwardly for a moment. 

 

“Do you prefer the side to the wall or–” 

 

“Don’t care.”

 

Jayce grimaced at the clipped tone. He made a mental note to buy Viktor some earplugs for next time. 

 

He climbed atop his bed and pressed his back against the wall. He covered himself with the blanket and folded his arm under his head, turning flesh into a pillow for the night. He closed his eyes, and a moment later, there was a final click, a thud, a shifting and dipping of the mattress, a heavy sigh, and then– silence. 

 

Jayce was relieved to be here. He knew Viktor would not ask for help, but he convinced himself that at least if he was in the room, perhaps Viktor wouldn't need to.

 

Their breathing somehow synced in the span of a minute, which created a monotonic rhythm that was rapidly lulling Jayce back to sleep. 

 

“I can feel your warmth from here,” Viktor murmured, sleep clinging to his voice despite the music still blaring from downstairs.

 

Jayce hummed. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

 

“No. It’s actually really soothing.” 

 

Jayce softly smiled to himself as he fell asleep.

 

The next morning, he woke up in a bed to himself. 

 

///

 

Warmth enveloped Viktor as if he were snuggled inside a cocoon of pure comfort, covered in a heavy blanket of magnificent heat. Viktor couldn’t actively remember the last time he’d felt so cosy in his sleep.

 

Blinking several times did not bring any real change to his vision, which led Viktor to conclude it was still dark out. 

 

When his eyes glanced at the lighted alarm clock on the nightstand, he frowned. Three-thirty A.M. Viktor sharpened his listening but there was no music bellowing anymore. All he could hear was someone breathing somewhere close behind him. 

 

Really close, actually. 

 

It was then he remembered that he hadn’t been the one to fall asleep against the bedroom wall. Especially because this particular wall was moving.

 

A quick scan of his body followed. 

 

Viktor's hand casually gripped around a scalding forearm, one that stretched over his waist and beyond. Viktor turned his head slightly only to find the tip of Jayce’s nose brushing against his nape. 

 

Oh.

 

The hairs on his arms bristled, a shiver of satisfaction crawling through his entire body. 

 

Viktor had never held or been held in his sleep. He was accustomed to the preference of showing his visitors to the door before he surrendered for the night. Even if he might enjoy their presence, the thought of entwined limbs and somebody intruding on his personal space for hours on end irked him to no end.

 

Yet, this time… This was different.

 

His body had not only welcomed the alien company but leaned into it. It was as if his senses had recognised the contact as his own, rendering any cause for alarm completely nonexistent.

 

Still, it was a disconcerting realization to find that it hadn’t been Jayce alone who had sought him in the night. It seemed to have been a mutual affair, a silent magnetism drawing them together, causing them to meet somewhere in the middle of the bed. Viktor, lured by the steady heat Jayce radiated; Jayce, perhaps unconsciously craving the coolness Viktor provided. Which is probably how they’d ended up in this… entangled situation.

 

The unfamiliarity of it left Viktor utterly paralysed. 

 

Yet surprisingly, the thought of waking Jayce and forcing him to move caused something in his chest to coil, a clear rejection from within.

 

Viktor had witnessed many people hold each other close in sleep, it had been perfectly normal. It wasn't unusual for beds to be shared in Zaun.

 

However, in Piltover, Viktor had discovered that their societal rules for what was acceptable for two people to do or not do together were much more rigorous. There were lines printed in an invisible contract regarding what each category of individuals could specifically provide, regardless of what might come naturally from their connection.

 

It was idiotic, constricting and absurd.

 

Why wouldn't friends be able to sleep entangled? Why couldn't two people exist in peace without constantly questioning every decision if they were under the protection of a mutual understanding? Viktor had always felt strongly about this topic. The enslavement of our humanity for the benefit of needless categorization and control. 

 

But when it came to himself, Viktor had simply been excruciatingly specific about his personal preferences in regards to how he liked to be touched.

 

Among the many negative aspects of prolonged contact, it made him feel caged. Like he was sinking under someone else's weight. And even if it was but a finger pressing atop him, his body would unbearably scald under that very specific patch of skin. 

 

So, no. It didn't usually feel good, let alone comforting.

 

He studied their perfect alignment, bodies fitting together like two halves of a whole. There was no awkwardness or strange tension, but hadn't that always been the case around Jayce Talis? From the second they'd met, everything simply... Flowed. It didn't feel strange to realize that the effortlessness between them could extend to this, also. It felt... Natural, for once. The lack of panic despite the casual proximity settled a puzzle piece into place for Viktor.

 

It was Jayce the newfound factor, what freed him from his usual discomfort. Especially considering the unwavering certainty in Viktor that were this situation to have occurred with anyone else, well... This would be a vastly different story to tell, wouldn't it? He had a cane and obviously no quarrel using it.

 

But, no. 

 

Jayce– Jayce was embracing him.

 

And that detail seemed to make all the difference.

 

He was warm and caring. Considerate. He felt both protected in his arms and protective of his vulnerable nature. It was like Viktor was being showered in sunshine, both softly caressing and recharging. Which was completely aligned with how Viktor felt in Jayce’s company, as well.

 

There was an obvious, reassuring, deep-rooted belief within Viktor that settled him further. There wasn’t a single doubt in his mind that if Viktor were to slap Jayce awake and voice any clear discomfort, he would not only dramatically jump away and genuinely apologise–profusely even–but also ensure it wouldn't happen again.

 

And that unquestionable acceptance was profoundly liberating.

 

Jayce embraced him, in more ways than one.

 

And even if the only person who brought out this newly discovered feeling was his lab partner for now, that was enough. The understanding was flinging open a door to himself that Viktor hadn't thought he'd ever feel inclined to peruse until now.  It had been a perceived impossibility that Viktor could ever genuinely enjoy an act such as this. The suffocating cuddling.

 

And yet the proof to reject that hypothesis was blinding and plumped comfortably around his waist.

 

God, he should pretend he never noticed and let himself go back to this glorious sleep.

 

The thought caused Viktor to blink.

 

He swallowed hard, his heart quickening. 

 

Jayce was touching him.

 

And Viktor liked it.

 

Somehow, and much to his astonishment, there wasn't a single ounce of pain echoing inside him either. Just warmth–soothing, all-encompassing warmth–and a deep yearn to succumb. 

 

He shut his eyes, deciding to leave the aftermath of this moment to his future self. For now, he had no strength to begin to unravel this mess. And unfortunately, nor did he want to.  

 

Today had been a day of one too many shocking firsts.

 

How was he to work with this man in the morning? How could he look at him as a mere 'co-worker' if Jayce was, unknowingly and yet so unnervingly profoundly, changing his understanding of himself and challenging the realities of his existence?

 

How was he going to plow forward as if he didn’t know exactly what their bodies pressed against each other felt like?

 

Viktor shifted carefully, attempting to return some of the space he’d taken from Jayce in order to appease his guilt. 

 

But the movement only caused Jayce’s arm to tighten its hold, lightly pulling Viktor flush against his chest. Viktor gasped at the contact, his body pleading to melt into it. Jayce nuzzled Viktor’s hair, rubbing his nose slightly against the back of his head. Viktor held in his breath, too scared to make a wrong move and have this moment he’d never once thought he’d actually enjoy, let alone with Jayce, abruptly end. 

 

“You smell like Viktor,” he muttered in his sleep, his groggy voice barely intelligible.

 

And Viktor felt it, then. 

 

Something long, and girthy and hard unmistakably press against his ass. 

 

His eyes snapped open at once.

 

Oh, my.

 

There was a moment of utter silence before calamity ensued, a million questions flooding Viktor’s head like a tidal wave to the point of dizziness.

 

He could barely process the situation, and yet his traitorous body had no such hesitation. His cock twitched to life immediately, a betrayal that only deepened the pit of shame clawing in his stomach.

 

Viktor was both aroused and utterly mortified, which was definitely a first. Again.

 

What is happening right now?!

 

He had already faced one realisation, he was allowed to panic with the second one.

 

Still, he found that this new development was not unwelcome by his body, not in the slightest. In fact, quite the opposite, if his growing dick was of any indication.

 

The world was tilting on its axis, once clear lines now blurring in his mind with the new expanse of hypotheses lay bare before him.

 

Viktor's body beckoned to Jayce's for the first time since they'd met, and it did so with a roar.

 

Because even now, Viktor trusted Jayce.

 

Which is what made it all so incredibly hot. 

 

He shut his eyes anew and begged his mind to go to sleep, prayed for unconsciousness to claim him, for blissful ignorance to wipe away the details now seared into his mind. But his body refused to cooperate for now, every nerve alive, every fiber of his being screaming and pleading for him to move his hips and accidentally grind against it. Map it, memorise it, provoke it– just once.

 

You smell like Viktor.

 

Oh, God.

 

It's me , it's me, Viktor's body seemed to want to call back.

 

The sheer force of his want shook him, the discovery rattling him back to semi-coherent thoughts. The potentiality of Jayce waking up only to feel horrified snapped Viktor to promptly focus on his breaths. 

 

Get it together, he implored his traitorous body. 

 

This was Jayce. Jayce, his lab partner. Jayce, his friend . Very straight Jayce, despite what that concerning Criss Angel poster might suggest. 

 

Jayce's current state was unbeknownst to him. Viktor wanted to protect his trust in return. For all he knew, Jayce didn't want him, he could have been dreaming of anything else entirely.

 

You smell like Viktor.

 

Panicked, he began to sing Zaun's national anthem in his head, goading the furious tightness between his legs to desist. He’d have to later analyse why that was the first song to pop into his mind, desperation still clinging to his every thought. 

 

Viktor tried to focus on anything, anything at all, except what he wanted to focus on most. Which was so unlike him, it annoyed him. Since when had he become enslaved by the needs of the flesh?

 

For the rest of the night, Viktor was in and out of sleep, his cravings subsided, but still lingering under the surface. He gave up trying when light began to filter through the blinds. 

 

He finally peeled Jayce's arm away from him, sat up, and quietly slung his brace back into his leg. He reached for the towel before heading out to seek a much-needed shower.

 

The same question had been looping in his brain for hours. Over and over it sneaked past his shattered defenses.

 

Could Jayce be… queer?

 

Viktor finally managed to find a comfortable sitting position atop the bathtub. He tipped his head up and let the freezing water slap him awake, washing away potentially dangerous remnants of the last twenty-four hours.

Notes:

TW: talking about illness, sexual sitch, internalised comhet/homophobia

///

you can't just say viktor's body SINGS TO YOU but then assume you're just being platonic, comphet is a real disease guys HAHA mandatory therapy

I owed u a jayce flashback pov

do you guys also make fun of each others traumas with your close friends? best medicine

Anywhooooooo, family's finally leaving after the holidays (godbless) so imma take some days off to pass the fuck out, but I'll see you guys soon! Much to tell still!

Thank you to every single commenter, to every single one of you coming with me on this gay ass journey! I am enjoying this experience so much and it brings me joy to share this hyperfixation with yall

As always, any feedback and/or overall opinion is not only welcome, but deeply appreciated <3

chaiiiiiito

Chapter 13: (F) Welcome to hell.

Summary:

The week after christmas. Boys keep working, Jayce is very lost.

Notes:

TW IN ENDNOTES

Okay guys so here's the thing even though I said I was gonna take a break my brain decided to go a thousand miles per hour and I started having hella fun writing (especially future scenes!!! AAAA) so here we are. I corrected a lot of the scenes in the last chapter, so I'd recommend a re-read (sozzz It just wasn't flowing and it was like an itch i couldnt scratch ps that might happen sometimes 8)) but if you're not in the mood for all that cause, valid, then I'd suggest only the last scene of the smexy sitch because I basically re-wrote the whole thing. I wasn't being loyal to my V and I had to set it straight. A boy can be changing and growing and discovering parts of himself he never knew existed alongside an identity crisis and still be a horny lil bitch. Yes AND.

TL;DR: if you read chapter 12 before this one came out, re-read smexy scene (its re-written)

Also boring machinery and room descriptions ahead, bit it's just the once so we kinda know what it looks like

FLASHBACK 

 

Viktor had been acting strange for days.

 

Ever since the Christmas dinner at his house, Jayce could sense something was off. It had been palpable from Viktor’s quiet demeanor in the car ride to work the next day, or the way Viktor seemed to be avoiding his eyes. 

 

Had he said something wrong? Perhaps Viktor was creating a necessary distance from Jayce for being pathetically unable to control his overwhelming concern for his health. The one that had led him to go to sleep outside of Viktor’s bedroom. Maybe Viktor, at the sight of Jayce asleep on the wooden floor, felt obliged to appease Jayce’s obvious anxiety, despite not being responsible for it. That had not been Jayce’s intention at all, but he could see how it could have gone that way. 

 

Which was definitely not okay with Jayce.

 

Yet, Jayce was also certain that Viktor wouldn’t entertain anything he didn’t actually want to do, so that brought Jayce right back to square one. Perhaps he needed Jayce to act differently in regards to his health and Jayce was completely lost as to how to approach it. He kept hoping Viktor would guide him somehow, but he never did. He just continued to conceal it.

 

Seeing Viktor act slippery around him in new matters was making Jayce miserable. 

 

At first, Jayce tried to listen to what his lab partner seemed to be asking for and offered Viktor some space. Viktor never backed away from speaking his mind, which had always been the whole premise for Jayce to have been able to switch off his brain from unnerving what-ifs . 

 

But this time around, Viktor was not being obvious about his stance. Whatever it was related to. 

 

Jayce decided that some respected reserve might help Viktor make sense of how he wanted to approach whatever situation he seemed to be avoiding between them. And considering Jayce felt guilty for having indirectly coerced Viktor into taking care of him that night, he did not want to address the topic by continuing to push, let alone for conversations Viktor clearly wasn’t ready to have. 

 

Viktor had always spoken up. He was sure to do so again, sooner or later.

 

Right?

 

Jayce attempted to get back to normal by refocusing on their work.

 

The logic circuit had been installed into the hardware, and the tests had come back positive. Viktor’s program recognised its host and the sensors Viktor and Jayce had designed together were sending back signals to Viktor’s computer. The fact that there was any communication at all sent a shock wave of electric excitement through Jayce. 

 

He had no idea how Viktor did it, how he manipulated lines of code on a screen and translated them into a distinct back and forth with inanimate objects. When he realised he’d been squeezing Viktor’s shoulder in anticipation, which had turned into exhilaration, he promptly retrieved his wayward hand. But Viktor’s chin was tilted over his shoulder, the gold in his gaze vibrant as ever and a wide smile turned in Jayce’s direction, equally as excited. Even though their separate scientific fields, they still spoke in unison. Their invention integrated such different parts of each other, and still they harmonised. 

 

In those moments of shared thrill, whatever had slightly shifted between them felt completely obliterated. Jayce was drunk on every second of it.

 

The next steps consisted of confirming whether the information being collected was in any way accurate, as well as testing the machine's ability to accomplish its main task of air purification. Hopefully, they’d manage for both things to work simultaneously, at some point. 

 

The following week after Christmas, Viktor didn't stay for longer hours in the lab as per usual. He left at decent times and even though Jayce wanted to ask about it, he was also happy his friend was getting some quality rest. He wanted to assume so, at least.

 

Jayce usually lost track of time during his work days, in the habit of letting them bleed into his nights. He couldn't remember the last time he'd lingered without Viktor and it didn't take long for the eery quiet to register. It felt wrong, somehow. To be there without his partner. He tried to ignore that feeling for as long as he could, but eventually the deafening silence clinging to his consciousness was uncomfortable enough for Jayce to decide to busy himself elsewhere. 

 

Unsurprisingly, Jayce escaped to the smithy. He'd been working on that particular piece for a while, and now he finally had the spare time to finish it properly. The activity also helped him loosen up, each clank of metal hitting metal bringing back a version of himself he could rely on. 

 

The more he relaxed, the more he became aware of how exhausting it was to have a part of himself constantly perked up in case he could make sense of what was happening inside Viktor’s mind.

 

Which also led Jayce to realise how Viktor being straightforward all of the time was so incredibly freeing. He rarely had to wonder if he was acting the right way or not, saying the right thing or not. Jayce had allowed himself to just be, always relying on Viktor to tell him off if need be. It had made everything so preposterously easy. And Jayce had been taking it for granted.

 

Lately, the swift shift in dynamic had him feeling as if the lights had gone off in the room and someone was waiting for him to lead the way out. It was confusing, especially considering he didn’t know which room he was in, or what exits existed, or if there was furniture he could slam into if he took a step. 

 

Still, it was also painfully human, which is something he'd clearly forgotten about in regards to his connection to Viktor. Flaws were bound to emerge in any system, right? There was no need to turn to catastrophe. Just like in his work, perhaps an inconsistency was merely an opportunity to discover. 

 

Viktor was allowed to need help. Just like Jayce so often did. 

 

So he continued to go to the smithy in the evenings, letting his body tire from the physical labour of shaping a vision into a tangible creation. It was cathartic. Crafting cleared his mind and allowed for new considerations. 

 

Such as the fact that, perhaps, he could speak his mind just like his friend. And have it be okay, too. 

 

They secured the special lab to begin small-scale trials for Wednesday and Thursday. The space was a rectangular room that seemed like a scientific haven, cluttered with tools, beakers, microscopes, and stacks of reference books. Every surface seemed prepared to offer whatever they might possibly need, and then some. 

 

Set into the wall in the far corner to the right was a dedicated testing room, enclosed by thick glass panels that separated it from the main lab. The room was designed for high-risk experiments, its containment protocols regularly up-kept by the Academy. 

 

It was perfect for what they were experimenting on. 

 

There was a slim metal desk placed three paces in front of the glass door, thick black cables coiling around its legs before diving into a patch that disappeared into the floor. This is where Viktor set up his computer and began to work. He plugged a loose cable into the side of his laptop– a connection Jayce assumed linked to the Academy’s central system. Viktor now faced the task of uploading their proposal into the Academy’s program, following meticulous protocol before trials.

 

And by doing so, it also connected them to the lab’s centerpiece: the infamous big bulb.

 

Mounted in the center of the chamber door, the bulb loomed its shadow over the wall. Supposedly, if their experiment worked as intended according to their presented proposal, it would glow a vivid green. However, if errors were perceived in any capacity, it would click red.

 

The academy held in great esteem any scientist thorough enough to see the bulb shine green, an omen for greatness. Supposedly.

 

Understandably, it was a strict threshold. No invention was truly flawless.

 

Jayce found his gaze fixed on it, the thought tugging at his mind.

 

He turned to Viktor, who was absorbed in absent-mindedly arranging the desk, and Jayce felt a flicker of curiosity, a smile creeping into the corners of his mouth as he averted his attention to the chamber anew.

 

After collecting all of the necessary equipment, Jayce stepped in and installed the machine, suspending it from a ceiling-mounted platform that hung like a swing. The device itself was cylindrical, slightly larger than a sturdy home printer, with an elegant yet functional design. Two diametrically opposed ‘petals’ bloomed from its surface: one curved slightly inward, constructed of gleaming metal, and specifically designed to collect samples for their sensors. The powerful suction mechanism was concealed beneath it, in the base of the cylinder instead. The other petal arched outward, leading the purified air back into the room in a steady flow.

 

At the heart of the machine was a central rod that was meant to trap pollution during operation. This rod could be pulled out laterally to remove the collected waste. Jayce had refined the system to make maintenance efficient– one smooth pull would release all the adhesive pads simultaneously, simplifying one of the steps and bringing them closer to their goal of seamless usability.

 

He had yet to figure out how to set them in just as adeptly. 

 

When Jayce returned, he noticed that Viktor was immersed in ensuring that the program was correctly established, necessary to actually begin. He decided to step out and buy them both some breakfast, letting Viktor do his thing without getting in the way.

 

When Jayce came back to the lab, he took a seat in front of Viktor and set the coffee and the pastry on the table, leaving the egg-tomato sandwich for himself.

 

Viktor did not acknowledge Jayce, but seemed to have perceived the existence of coffee in his vicinity because he flawlessly reached out to it without his attention ever leaving the screen.

 

Viktor was tap tap tapping for another hour when something in Jayce finally snapped. He decided to take the lead.

 

“Did I do something wrong?” He blurted out. 

 

Viktor looked up from his computer and gave him a slow blink. His eyes slightly widened. 

 

“What? What makes you say that?” 

 

“I don't know, I sense an energy shift and I'm not sure if I did or said something to push you away somehow. I keep wracking my brain and– I thought it would be easier to just ask directly.” 

 

Viktor’s lips parted slightly, forming a small, surprised ‘o.’

 

“No, Jayce. You've done absolutely nothing wrong,” Viktor assured. “I've just been in my head lately.” 

 

Jayce observed Viktor’s throat bob. 

 

“Is there anything I can do to help?” He asked cautiously. 

 

“I don't think so,” Viktor said quietly. “But I appreciate you bringing it to my attention. I don't want you to feel like I'm icing you out or anything of the sort.” 

 

Jayce tilted his head.

 

“I don’t think you can help it.” 

 

Viktor shook his head lightly. Another blink. “Come again?” 

 

Jayce let a mischievous smile curl around his mouth.

 

“The icing out," he clarified. "Have you any idea of how freezing your toes are? Even with socks on, it was like you were pressing tiny icebergs into my skin.” 

 

Viktor let out a breath and a smirk spread across his face. 

 

“And what are you doing feeling my toes when I'm asleep?” 

 

“They found me,” Jayce protested with astonishment. “It was an ambush, no less. A full on raid to steal my body temperature!" 

 

Viktor laughed and Jayce felt something loosen in his chest, relieved to hear that sound come out of his lab partner again. It seemed to come out a little more easily with each passing conversation.

 

Jayce swirled in his chair, blowing raspberries while waiting for Viktor to finish filling in their proposal. Unfortunately, for now, there wasn't much he could do, considering his hardware was in wait. 

 

He decided to take a bite out of his sandwich. 

 

“Do I have a specific scent to you?” 

 

Jayce coughed in surprise, the food shooting out of his esophagus and into his mouth. He frowned, clearing his throat while he attempted to piece together the possible angles for such a question. Was Viktor struggling with his hygiene? Had somebody made such a remark?! Or was he feeling insecure about that aspect of himself? That had never happened before. 

 

He cocked his head slightly, weighing his thoughts, and swallowed down the dry bread. 

 

“What do you mean?” 

 

Viktor pursed his lips together and brought his attention back to the monitor before him.

 

“Nevermind.”

 

There was an awkward pause as Viktor continued to clack on his keyboard, the sound ringing in his head. Jayce felt an underlying itch, one that voiced that he was missing information. 

 

He couldn't let it go.

 

“Like as in, you, as a person in general? Or today?” 

 

Viktor continued to type and after a moment, glanced up to find Jayce studying him with careful precision. 

 

“Just me,” he clarified in a low tone.

 

Jayce pondered anew.

 

“Well,” he drawled. “I couldn't know for sure, but if I had to try to describe it, I would say you smell like a mixture of metal, electricity and chalk to me. Maybe some coffee undertones depending on the hour of the day, which is to be expected. Why?” 

 

Viktor stayed quiet for a moment. He dipped his gaze before more fluid taps filled the silence. Just when Jayce thought that would be that and took another bite off his breakfast, Viktor relented to his curiosity once again. This time he didn't look up. 

 

“Is it… Pleasant?” 

 

Jayce chuckled, utterly disoriented by the line of questioning but intrigued all the same. He decided to continue being honest, considering there seemed to be an underlying importance to the strange conversation. Even if the cause evaded him entirely. 

 

“I guess?” He answered with his mouth full.

 

Viktor’s incredulous eyes snapped up to Jayce’s, eyebrows rising in a high arch.

 

“You guess?”

 

Jayce let out a full belly laugh, knowing that that tone usually meant that some small object was going to be flung at his head. He swallowed his food, completely lost in the conversation once more, and shrugged. 

 

“I don’t know, man. It's just you.” 

 

Viktor hummed and quietly resumed his task. Jayce shifted uncomfortably and lowered his food for a moment. 

 

“Has someone… Said something to you, or something?” Jayce asked in a slow tone.

 

Viktor’s brows shot up in surprise and his eyes darted sharply to Jayce’s, a startled gleam flickering within.

 

“What? No, no, of course not,” he dismissed urgently. Viktor waved a hand through the air and his focus fled back to his work. Jayce thought for a moment that he seemed nervous, but at this point the only thing he could confidently assure while keeping a clear conscience was that he was most definitely lost. “Just personal curiosity, is all.”

 

Jayce nodded and took another bite of his sandwich. He spoke through his food.

 

“Okay, good. Cause’ we were about to have a problem.”

 

Viktors lips twitched upwards before he resumed his task in silence. Jayce got the impression of having said the right thing for once, which was incredibly alleviating. But then again, he wouldn’t have been surprised to find that had not been the case.

 

So he decided to let Viktor continue to come to him for further questioning whenever he was ready. 

 

Things were slowly getting back to normal, despite perceiving that Viktor was still distracted over long periods of time in his own world. Even so, he could sense Viktor's efforts to come back to their usual dynamic. Jayce let him take his time doing so by remaining available and steady at his side. 

 

A couple of hours later, the bulb clicked red at last, causing Jayce to gasp and Viktor to casually wiggle his brows. 

 

“Ready to put this to the test?” 

 

Jayce, contaged by his demeanor, responded with a combination of unfiltered joy and a fevered anticipation. “Fuck, yeah.”

 

The days dragged on, and the red tint stretching across the lab had become its own steady company. Viktor’s program was not accurately measuring its surroundings, so far. And the machine was not running as intended, hiccups sputtering every so often, which Jayce was still trying to figure out how to smooth.

 

They hadn’t even gotten started on the whole ‘purifying air’ of it all.

 

Viktor was still leaving early each day, so Jayce equally returned to his own safe space with the intention of finishing his other personal project.

 

On the next occasion Viktor decided to continue with one of his interrogations, his attention remained steady on the bright screen before him.

 

“How's your soul searching going?” 

 

Jayce burst out laughing. “I’m afraid you are going to have to be more specific.” 

 

Viktor pursed his lips in deep thought and Jayce waited patiently.

 

“When we first met, I remember you talked about your identity and how you were still figuring it out." Viktor made a gesture as if to invite Jayce to speak. Then, he paused to think for a moment and added with exaggerated slowness, "How's that been?” 

 

Jayce chuckled. “Pretty much the same, I'd say. Meeting you has definitely helped a lot,” he chirped. Viktor locked his eyes onto him and it made Jayce think of a mountain cat, prowling for something that was completely beyond Jayce’s field of vision.

 

“Can I ask in what ways?” Viktor asked casually, his deep voice sounding like a soft embrace. 

 

“Your confidence, your assertiveness, your company. They've all given me a newfound sense of stability, I think.” Jayce stared defeatedly at the predictable light coating them in shades of scarlet. “And you?” 

 

“Ah, no. Ever since I met you, my life has gone down the drain,” Viktor offered without wasting a breath. 

 

Jayce dropped his jaw.

 

“I eat real meals now, which is a nightmare. I have someone to talk to about math and physics and life, which is a real bummer. And you're also slightly funny, which is the most devastating of all." 

 

Jayce cackled, something vibrating inside him at the confirmation that affection did flow both ways.

 

“ Slightly funny?" He voiced out, incredulous. "Shove that shiv all the way up inside me, why don't you?”

 

Viktor snickered. “I didn't know that was an option,” he murmured, tapping once again into his computer. He sighed heavily. “Okay, I really need to focus now. Stop distracting me.” 

 

Jayce didn't say another word, despite knowing it had been Viktor to start the conversation.  

 

That evening, Viktor stayed late again with Jayce.

 

/// 

 

The following day, Jayce burst through the door of their usual lab in the middle of the night, causing Viktor to jump in place from the seat at his desk.

 

As predicted, work-obsessed.

 

“Sorry I'm late,” he panted. still wearing his best suit. He’d removed the tie and had loosened the buttons of his shirt in order to breathe again. “That was torture.” 

 

He’d had a meeting with Heimerdinger earlier that morning, so he could revise their progress with the project. Their tutor had seemed excited about the advances and had rewarded Jayce with a very draining conversation about investors. He had been drilling this information into them every chance he’d found, pressing them to make new contacts. Apparently, it was crucial if they were to have any hopes for a beneficial outcome regarding their invention. Casually, Heimer dropped into conversation how there was a gala at the Academy that very night to celebrate the end of the year, and had incessantly prodded Jayce to attend.

 

When he’d come back to the lab and mentioned it to Viktor, both begrudgingly agreed that perhaps it was a good opportunity and that Jayce should go. He didn’t want to, but he knew it was necessary. Viktor’s coughing fits had become more recurrent to the point of preferred social isolation and Jayce understood. Viktor’s shoulders sagged in relief when Jayce suggested he’d stay, and his lab partner expressed gratitude towards Jayce for taking the brunt of their social ventures, for the time being. 

 

If this was all Jayce could do to help, then he was happy for it. 

 

Jayce moved the tall, wrapped object he’d retrieved from home when he’d returned to shower and change, and leaned it against the table instead. He rolled out his chair, settled his jacket comfortably on its back support, and approached Viktor. His eyes followed him with ardent precision.

 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Viktor rumbled. “Did you meet anyone interesting?” 

 

“Not sure, yet.” Jayce plopped down on the chair and threaded his fingers through his hair, combing it back. “There were some cool people from the ministry, but also a lot of CEOs. Met this guy named Salo, apparently he runs an investment company. You know that huge electric car that started popping up everywhere last year? Apparently, he was behind that. Very weird dude, but clearly with abundant means coming out of his ass, which we like.”

 

Viktor was grimacing. “So it’s him we have to blame for that hideous thing.” 

 

Jayce laughed. “Apparently so.” With a deep breath, he signaled with his chin to Viktor’s computer. “How about you? How’s our child treating you today?” 

 

Viktor leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms above his head with a heartfelt smile.

 

“No glitches today.”

 

Jayce let out a weary, albeit still genuine, whoop.

 

Viktor chuckled. “You should’ve gone home, you look exhausted.” 

 

“I actually couldn’t wait to come back here.” 

 

Viktor shook his head before his gaze flickered somewhere behind Jayce.

 

“That massive thing has been eyeballing me for hours,” Viktor muttered, changing the subject. He narrowed his eyes dramatically and gave Jayce a menacing side-eye.  “What is it?” 

 

Jayce followed his previous line of sight only to to find the tall, newspaper-wrapped object Jayce had brought with him, patiently waiting.

 

“Oh, that? Uh.” Jayce scratched his jaw, already feeling the scruff begging to be reborn. A nervous edge crept into his mind. “That’s for you, actually.” 

 

Viktor raised a single brow and Jayce stood to retrieve the gift. 

 

“Sorry it took me so long to get it to you, it’s been a slow process.” He handed the object to Viktor before settling back into his seat. “Apart from the constant complaining I hear from Mr. Stiff, who’s begging to retire, I also noticed that the length wasn’t coinciding perfectly with the distance between the sole of your foot and your grip. And… I don’t know. I thought you deserved better.” 

 

Viktor’s eyes were the widest Jayce had ever seen them before. With shaky hands, he began to tear the newspaper away to unveil what was underneath. 

 

Then, he stared. 

 

He stared, and stared. Tentatively, Viktor pulled it out of the wrapping, letting the paper fall to the floor. His breath shook. 

 

The main structure of the crutch was crafted from a matte, midnight alloy. Its surface flirted with the lights, reflecting with the different tones in it–blue, dark silver, indigo. Jayce hadn't been able to pick just one.

 

Along its length, muted silver danced over different whorls and organic lines brought it to life, resembling quiet veins of energy or sharp currents travelling over its surface. The interplay between the deep-blue base and the matted silver created an effect that reminded Jayce of dark colored, tempered armor. Exactly as he'd envisioned it.

 

Viktor’s eyes began to water. 

 

And Jayce immediately panicked, so he did what he did best. He babbled.

 

“Okay, so, yes, it is metal but I have been very careful about weight distribution, I promise. The last thing I wanted was for you to feel like you had to drag it behind you. It’s there to support you, not the other way around, right? So its build should offer you a solid brace, while also reducing any effort from carrying it as you walk.”

 

Viktor was staring into his soul. His honeyed eyes glistened with an intensity that Jayce did not know how to meet, so he continued to describe his creation.

 

Funnily enough, even though Viktor seemed to be in a state of stupor, his eyes followed where Jayce mentioned. 

 

“Now, I know it looks like a crutch, but you’re in for a surprise because if you push in right here, the first half–” Jayce pressed a subtle button embedded in the middle of the shaft. With a quiet pop, the crutch split in two, the top half smoothly detaching to reveal a lighter, more compact cane. “–comes out!” 

 

Viktor’s jaw dropped in his peripheral vision. Jayce smiled through the jitters, his voice steady despite the horde charging in his chest.

 

“This way, you can use it in whatever measure you prefer for the day. I’ve been noticing your pain seems to fluctuate quite a lot, so I wanted you to have both options accessible to you at any given time.”

 

He swallowed, even though his mouth was dry. 

 

Unable to meet Viktor’s stare, he pressed on, flipping the cane over to show him the front. 

 

“This top part,” Jayce explained, “is lightweight, designed for flexibility. The bottom’s sturdier, built to take real impact. I won’t bore you with all the details, but the fun part of it is that you can either leave this to the side, or…” He took the elegantly crafted auxiliary shoulder rest and clicked it into place on the cane’s middle. He looked at the design and smiled. “I’ve placed one hell of a magnet. You can carry the whole thing as a single unit! Regardless of whether you need a crutch or a cane. According to my calculations, it shouldn’t weigh you down but if my math turns out to be wonky and it is too much, then I’d suggest you throw the top part to the side on the days you don’t need it. To detach, just slightly pull up.”

 

Jayce softly demonstrated before settling it back in place. He pressed his fingers against the shoulder rest, caressing the whirls under sensitive skin. Hesitation crept in, tightening his nape. 

 

“The design might seem... a little unconventional,” he conceded with an uncertain tone, the corner of his mouth unavoidably shifting into a shy grin. He had no idea how to get this out. “But, I– I don’t know, when I think of you, you just–” he chuckled nervously. “I just wanted it to represent you. To feel sharp, reliable, elegant, but also work as an accessory– something that blends in when you want it to, but is equally ready to make a statement if you need it to.” 

 

Jayce angled the aid toward Viktor, showing him the sharp, inverted triangle that formed the shoulder rest. “Once it’s attached, it creates the illusion of armor, you see? The cane would be the sword and the shoulder rest in front of it would be the shield. It seems wide and strong, slightly imposing. But I also am very aware that you don’t like to call attention to yourself, so I’ve made the details of this secret only perceptible if you’re either close enough to inspect it or far enough to glimpse the silhouette. Which I thought was rather cool, thinking of people seeing you coming and getting a little worried,” Jayce smirked. Viktor let out a huff of a laugh. Jayce wished he could bottle it.

 

“Of course, both the handle and shoulder rest are covered with black leather. I know that’s the one texture you can stomach for this kind of stuff.” 

 

"And, because we can’t forget your air of mystique,” Jayce added with a smirk, accompanied by a knowing glint in his eye. He reached for the three cleverly concealed buttons: one tucked beneath the shoulder rest, another hidden under the handle, and a third near the crutch tip. A trio of satisfying pops sounded one after the other as the compartments unlocked.

 

“I gave you three secret hiding spots: top, middle, and bottom." He gestured to each one. "They’re not huge, but they’ll do. They’re also insulated, so you can keep your pain meds in there instead of having to carry them around, for instance. But definitely don’t leave edibles inside if you’re going to be in the sun,” Jayce grimaced. 

 

He tilted the crutch. Jayce noticed how Viktor inclined his body forward in order to glimpse at the newly uncovered hidden spaces: sleek and seamless. Their openings were practically invisible when closed, which was a detail Jayce was quite secretly proud of. “I figured you’d appreciate the discretion,” he added, the faintest hint of self-satisfaction sneaking into his voice.

 

“Jayce,” Viktor whispered. 

 

Jayce finally looked up and found Viktor’s face damp and flushed with rosy cheeks, pink tip to his nose, even his lips wore the same color from biting down on them. It was the most genuine and open expression he’d ever seen on Viktor. There was no mask, no filters, just raw emotion. 

 

Viktor’s eyes were shining. 

 

It was so beautiful that it made Jayce want to cry. 

 

There was so much behind that expression and yet not enough at all. 

 

“Would you like to try it?” Jayce croaked. 

 

“Yes,” he breathed. 

 

Viktor walked up and down the lab, leaning on his new aid. No more ominous groaning, which Jayce was delighted for. 

 

“How do you feel?” 

 

Viktor stopped pacing and turned to face Jayce. His expression was paler, as if shock had taken over completely. 

 

“L-like it was made for me,” he said in a daze. Jayce couldn’t keep the grin off his face. 

 

“It was,” he confirmed with a laugh. 

 

Viktor stared at him, at the mouth from which that sound was coming from. 

 

“Why–” He met Jayce's stare anew, a slight curiosity creeping up in his eyes. "Why the armor aesthetic? If I can ask."

 

Jayce closed his eyes, leaning back on his chair and slicked back his untamable hair. He let out a heavy sigh.

 

“Don't you know?” He met Viktor’s quiet surprise. 

 

“Know what?” Viktor responded in a barely perceptible tone, his rough voice turned curious and mellow. Jayce chuckled uncomfortably, his neck burning up at the thought of being so vulnerable. 

 

“I don't know how you do it, V,” he confessed with a timid smile, effortfully keeping his voice low and steady. “I don't know how, but you have a way about you that just feels implacable. Tonight, as I was going around and meeting all of the rich snobs, all I could think about was how I could see you picking each of them apart and eating them alive. I wondered how quickly they would fold, whether aware or unaware of your moves." Jayce shook his head and met Viktor's widened eyes. "You're always the most powerful man in the room."  Jayce swallowed, feeling his hands become sweaty. He clenched his fists and tried to breathe. “Anyone who looks at you and doesn’t realise any cane is a weapon if wielded by your hand, is a fool." Viktor's lips had slightly parted as he kept his focus locked on Jayce, and for some reason, that pressed him on. "What others might mistake for a weakness is usually just another piece of yourself that you play to your advantage. You're lethal by choice. It’s one of the things I admire most about you.” Jayce felt a tremor run through his body at the intensity with which Viktor was perceiving him. He dropped his gaze to his pointed, glistening shoes and sighed.

 

God, it was too late now. He had to see this through.

 

“I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but Viktor, strong people deserve help too,” his voice was smaller and beginning to take speed, words coming faster to mind than he was able to construct into speech. “Someone to vent to, to speak to, to accompany you, to laugh or to cry with. I know we’re fantastic co-workers, and if that's where you'd prefer we stay, I will completely understand. It's already been cool meeting you and I don't want to overextend myself more than I already have.” 

 

“Jayce,” Viktor attempted to interrupt, confusedly.

 

Jayce couldn’t stop speaking. 

 

“But just know that I would be honored to have you in my life. I want to know what you do on your free time, and know what's going on with your health and actually be there, V. And-”

 

“Jayce.”

 

“-if you need to think that I benefit from this arrangement too so you can feel more comfortable, then think of it as a selfish act. Viktor, this is the proudest I've ever been of my work. And we haven't even scratched the surface, I can feel it.”

 

“Jayce!” 

 

“So, if we're already sort of friends, why not be actual friends? In for the good shit, the bad shit, the shit in between. Personally, I'd like to be there for all the shit, if you’d have me.” Suddenly, Jayce realized that Viktor had been calling out his name, so he raised his stare to meet his. “Yes?”

 

Viktor looked like he was about to burst out laughing.

 

“You do know I’ve been going out to dinner with your mother for the past week, yes?”

 

There was a pause. A rewiring of conduits.

 

Jayce’s expression sharpened as his eyes flew open.

 

“You’ve been what?”

 

Viktor bellowed, leaning against the wall and clutching his stomach. 

 

“I thought she would have told you!”

 

“You guys are hanging out?!” 

 

“She wanted to get to know me and then it just snowballed from there. Before I knew it, she was taking me shopping and telling me embarrassing stories about you. You can’t blame me, I was enthralled!”

 

“You were enthralled ?” Jayce doubled down with a high pitch. He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head in utter disbelief. “Please, tell me she didn’t tell you about the rubber-ducky story.”

 

Viktor smiled pityingly. “I’m afraid so."

 

“It’s official,” Jayce announced with resolve. “I’m going to kill her.” Viktor let out a cackle and came to sit in front of Jayce, his steps more assured under his new cane. It made Jayce’s chest brim with pride and satisfaction.

 

“Please, don’t. She’s the loveliest."

 

Jayce rolled his eyes. Betrayed by his own mother.

 

“Of course she is, that’s how she gets you!” 

 

Viktor let out a soft, unexpected giggle. He leaned forward, his eyes warm and kind, and gave Jayce’s knee a tentative squeeze.

 

“What I meant to say is… we're clearly more than co-workers, you idiot.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Jayce’s stomach fluttered, and the air around him suddenly thickened. His mouth began to widen in a smile and Viktor sighed, rubbing his eyes for a moment.

 

“I won’t lie,” Viktor added with a slight tremble to his voice. “The idea of more people entering my private affairs is slightly… Daunting.” He paused, his gaze steady on Jayce. “But if I’m being honest, you’re the only person I know that I can imagine myself saying yes to a proposition like that. Especially when it comes to my health.” He gave Jayce a soft smile, his mole stretching alongside his upper lip. “Thank you for caring.” 

 

“O-” Viktor lifted his hand and Jayce interrupted himself, forcing himself to let his partner finish speaking. V sighed, leaned back in his chair for a moment and looked to the heavens. 

 

He returned with a newfound strength to his posture.

 

“But, if we do this, we have to do it my way,” he stated with a firm voice. “I've always… done all of this on my own, and at first, I presume it might feel invasive and overwhelming to have a new variable enter the equation on that private aspect of my life. So I would ask… for some patience, if I act in ways that seem unlike me at first. I imagine it might be the case.”

 

Jayce's eyes softened, and he nodded slowly. “Yes, of course, V. We’ll do it your way.” His voice was calm but filled with warmth. “And patience I have to spare. I’m just honestly happy to be there.”

 

He searched for Viktor’s gaze, sincerity in his expression when uncertain gold met him. “And, as we’ve always done… If you ever need me to step back, just give me a shove. I want to be here, but only in whatever way you’d like me to be. Not a bit more.”

 

Viktor nodded with a quiet uptilt of his lips. He looked down at his new cane. 

 

“As for this,” he started, his thumb tracing over the leather. His lips stretched and captivating lines dented his face. He lifted his molten honeyed gaze to meet Jayce’s, his expression sincere. “It’s a masterpiece. Truly, unlike anything I’ve ever seen.” He paused, swallowing hard. “I don’t think I have the words to describe it. But I promise you that on the day I finally do, I will.” 

 

“Deal,” Jayce grinned. He leaned forward and the question burst out of him. “Can I hug you now?” 

 

Viktor chuckled and jokingly rolled his eyes.

 

“If you must.” And even though there was an underlying tease, Viktor’s eyes seemed to be clear and welcoming. Without another word, Jayce grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him tightly against his chest. 

 

Viktor let out a small oof at the force of impact, but after releasing a quiet laugh–one that reverberated inside Jayce's ribcage–Viktor circled his arms around his waist and pressed his hands to his back, holding him in turn. Jayce inhaled deeply. 

 

He did smell of metal, electricity and chalk. 

 

Along with a faint trace of an unscented shampoo, which made Jayce want to laugh because of course it was unscented. 

 

He was enveloped in Viktor. And he was so soft, and simultaneously angular. Jayce noticed how perfectly he fit in between his arms. 

 

Jayce’s heart began to race and without any sense to it, he jumped to his feet, leaving the hug and walking away. Viktor lowered his arms slowly and followed Jayce with his gaze.

 

He reached for a pen from his desk and approached the shared calendar they kept pinned to the wall of their lab. 

 

Viktor stood and came to peek over Jayce’s hunched shoulder as he scribbled on the 1st of January: 00:37 - V said J made a M A S T E R P I E C E.  

 

He then underlined the last word twice. 

 

A cackle erupted from Viktor, behind him. It made his chest tighten in elation. 

 

“I can't believe you.” 

 

Viktor returned to his seat with a shake of his head, the corners of his mouth still tilted upwards despite his best attempts to school a neutral expression.

 

“What?” Jayce asked with a smug grin. “I just want to make sure we remember! It's a special occasion!”

 

“I'm never complimenting you again.” 

 

Jayce gasped, clutching his chest.

 

“You'd kill my dog right in front of me?”

 

Viktor threw his head back in a hearty laugh, quickly turning into a ragged cough. Jayce watched with a mix of amusement and concern. Viktor glanced at him knowingly, a mischievous spark in his eyes.

 

“That's exactly how that would feel like to you, isn't it?”

 

Jayce shrugged, still smiling. He approached the desk and returned to his own seat. “Listen, I'm just saying– you said it.”

 

“How could I forget?” Viktor replied with a deadpan, a nonchalant finger pointing to the wall. ”It’s in the calendar.” 

 

“Good, good,” Jayce said with a wide smile, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms behind his head. “It’s already working, then.”

 

Viktor rolled his eyes, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “So obnoxious.” 

 

He opened the lower cabinet of his desk and pulled out two glasses, along with a bottle of whiskey. He poured in both cups and slid one in front of Jayce. He raised a glass in his direction for a toast.

 

“Well,” Viktor drawled. “Here's to you festering deeper into my life. Happy New Year, Jayce.”

 

Jayce chuckled, raising his own glass.

“Thank you for having me.”

 

Both men downed the liquid in one go. They both slammed the bottom of their glasses on the desk, for good measure.

 

“Let me be the first to say,” Viktor voiced with a gravelly voice. He gave Jayce a casual smirk. “Welcome to hell.”

Notes:

TW: anxious internal monologue (although very soft), casual drinking

///

not the guy im secretely hoping sees me more than a co-worker hanging out with my maaaa D:

J's body: oh yeah
J's mind: panik

J: you're a badass and so powerful, and and and
V: ...
V: Anyways, -

also jayce memorising v's measurements by just watching him??? like was he staring to see v's hip height in comparison to objects around the lab around him so he could measure later??? did he measure the length of his step instead??? HOW DID U DO THAT (aka not lazy writing how dare you)

Jayce the empath x) u cry, i cry >:'(

 

as always, thank you SO much for your interactions! i hope you're enjoying the movie (as last_brain_cell says) and see you soooooooon!!!

im also a bit undecided between continuing with flashbacks or go back, its a russian roulette atp. both sides still are building up to "the moment" so my brain go: FREEZE! but it does not, in fact, strike a pose.

As always, any feedback and/or overall opinion is not only welcome, but deeply appreciated <3

tooodalooooo!

Chapter 14: We’ll both be angry again at some point, I’m sure.

Summary:

Viktor wakes up in Jayce's apartment and things... Seem to be slightly confusing

Notes:

TW IN ENDNOTES

hiyaaaaaaaaa! this chapter might be a lil silly

I also wanted to officially give y'all a HUGE thank you. I am having the most fun doing this, and the response to the last chapter honestly made my heart swell :') thank you for all of the unprompted electric energy you guys have been kind enough to share with me. Its so contagious! You guys are so full of kindness, and passion, and funny as shit, sometimes I'm out here looking like a silly fool giggling over some of those comments. Thanks for making yourselves known! And to those who don't, also. <3

OKAY ENOUGH MUSH FOR REALZ NOW, BACK TO JAYVIK 8)

When Viktor woke up, the first thing that hit his senses was undeniable, infuriatingly faithful, pain. 

 

Every inch of his body was creaked with a different ache, bruised and sensitive. Even the blanket brushing over his frame felt overwhelming.

 

His lungs burned, every breath designed to stab tiny needles through his organs. The constant, underlying soreness would take a while to dissipate, Viktor could tell from the get-go. 

 

Viktor blinked once, the sudden flash of light from his left momentarily blinding him. He squeezed his eyes shut, then fluttered his lashes open several times, struggling to bring his vision into focus. Squinting against the intrusive sunlight, he chose to keep his left eye closed, shielding it from the harsh rays puncturing into the room as if they had a personal vendetta against his optic nerves.

 

Blur made way to a white and tall ceiling. He spotted at its center a sleek, glass fixture encasing the light bulb, which was modern and unlike any Viktor had ever set his eyes on before.

 

Slowly, Viktor turned his head to the right, his gaze catching on a mirror that spanned the entire wall. Curious.

 

Who could possibly need to see so much of themselves?  Viktor couldn't help but wonder.

 

Viktor began to gather evidence through the mirror-wall.

 

He was in a bed. Okay, good. He seemed to be clothed, which was another positive realization. His leg brace leaned against the bed. However, he did not recognise the room. There were big windows to his left and wooden closet doors adorning part of the wall facing the bed. There was a man with a protruding Adam's apple sprawled in an armchair in a corner to the left. His long neck was bent at an uncomfortable angle, and his head lolled over the chair's back. His mouth was agape, and thunderous snores wafted from it, reverberating through the otherwise quiet room. 

 

Viktor then turned to search for his own face. 

 

He couldn't find it.

 

Only his eyes.

 

He gasped as sudden understanding struck him.

 

His heart lurched and began to race.

 

He was wearing an oxygen mask.
He was wearing an oxygen mask.
He was wearing an oxygen mask.

 

The realization echoed in his mind, unrelenting and deafening. Was he in a hospital? Were there tubes around him? He couldn’t tell. His thoughts had taken off at a sprint as the world around him slipped out of focus.

 

Violent images erupted behind his eyes, viscerally disjointed and far from the present time. Memories and nightmares surged forward, mingling into one single concept that overwhelmed every sense, rendering Viktor utterly useless.

 

He turned his head to his left. Viktor was having an out of body experience, living a deja-vu, completely damned to this fate he’d run so far away to escape. 

 

Especially when he realised the man in the corner was Jayce Talis. 

 

When Viktor saw his dust-covered neck, his mind was slapped with recent memories as well. Images of Jayce in the lab, of Viktor flying backwards and hitting his back. Jayce’s face struck with horror. Jayce atop him. Jayce protecting him. Suffocating, suffocating, suffocating. The texture of Jayce’s beard between Viktor’s fingertips. The scent of sweat and steel lingering above him, mixed with an earthy aroma that brought images of warm skin and an enveloping softness. 

 

Present and past were ruthlessly entwining in his brain. Was he cursed to relive this hell all over again? Sisyphus incarnated, was his fate to roll this boulder up the hill only to watch it fall to the same spot every time?

 

Viktor’s breaths were ragged, coming in pants despite how agonising every inhale and exhale was. Viktor couldn't control any of it; his heart was thundering in his chest and his vision was deeply hazy again. 

 

Oh.

 

Of course, he was having a panic attack.  

 

Despite the extensive hours sitting with Dr. Laura, at this very moment, any information that might have been helpful to Viktor flew out of his brain. He found himself imprisoned by his swelling panic. 

 

He extended his fingers towards Jayce, exerting all of his will to get them to move. They twitched in his direction. 

 

Viktor tried to speak his name and yet no sound came out. It was as if someone had effortlessly robbed him of his voice in his sleep. Again.

 

Flashes of a different moment were swarming Viktor’s consciousness at the perceived fact and he needed to know, he needed to know now.

 

A strangled sound came out of him as he tried to reach for Jayce. 

 

With a sharp breath, Jayce snapped his head upwards at once, abruptly awakened by Viktor’s silent plea. His eyesight manically scanned the bed before him until it fell on Viktor. 

 

His stare was vacant for a brief moment before recognition shook him into the present moment. 

 

“Oh, my God. Viktor.”

 

He lunged forward and extended his arms towards Viktor, who winced away before Jayce could get anywhere near him. Jayce recoiled, a deeply embedded and painful understanding rippling in his eyes. His hands slowly lowered and gripped each side of the armchair as his frantic eyes continued to study Viktor’s frame, his face, searching for the source of his pain.  

 

“What's wrong?” Jayce’s voice hastily demanded, his worry a tempest that threatened to consume Viktor alive. 

 

Viktor locked his eyes onto Jayce’s, still heaving as he made sense of his immediate disposition. 

 

“What can I do?” Jayce begged. “Hospital?” 

 

Jayce was already halfway out of his seat, clutching the armrests and waiting for Viktor’s confirmation to catapult himself into action.

 

For a moment, it seemed like nothing had changed. Viktor was transported back to over seven years ago, the patterns of history itching to repeat themselves. 

 

He would not allow them. 

 

Viktor managed to blink once. Jayce’s eyes scanned him again and again as he waited for Viktor to give him further instructions. The indentations in his face were flooded with panicked desperation, deepening with each labored breath coming out of Viktor. 

 

“Did… They… Touch… Me?” 

 

Shock flared in Talis's eyes. 

 

“What? No! Of co-”

 

Viktor felt, more than he saw, how the newfound realization pierced Jayce like a hurled lance, ultimately finding the center of his chest. His breath staggered with surprise. For a lingering pause, a tornado of emotions swirled behind Jayce’s pupils. Slowly, he seemed to finally understand that it was panic driving Viktor’s somatic response, not pain. Concern quickly melted into pained sorrow. Jayce’s eyes gradually sunk with a sadness that dragged his body with it, his shoulders slumping slightly as the sharpness behind his pupils melted away into a vacancy Viktor despised to see etched on the man. 

 

“No,” Jayce repeated with heavy quietness. He averted his gaze, resting his forearms on his knees and holding his hands together, before returning his attention to Viktor. “You’re safe.” 

 

Viktor despised those words.

 

Talis's features were covered in dark smudges, as if dust had clung to every droplet of sweat and eventually settled on his skin. His hair fell freely on his forehead, splotches of gray decorating it.  Some debris had broken away from the dark strands due to the rough awakening and as sunlight stretched through the window behind Jayce, Viktor watched some dirt particles now float around his head. 

 

Viktor’s breath slowed at the image before him, at the recognition in Jayce’s expression. At the speckles dancing around him. Still, he placed the palm of his hand to his chest to ensure his working lungs, just like Dr. Laura had taught him. Anchoring, she’d called it. Information seemed to be returning within his reach, which was a good sign.

 

“That's it. You're okay,” Jayce encouraged softly as if he’d heard him. Was he thinking aloud? “You're in my apartment. There was a gas leak in the Academy. Everyone is okay. Your lungs are bruised, for now. You're predicted to be back at it in a week or so.” 

 

The way Jayce was announcing each piece of information soothed a sharpness within Viktor. He surprised himself with the recognition that that was exactly what he'd needed. Short, concise and precise information so he wasn't completely fucking clueless. 

 

It annoyed him to see how effortlessly Jayce calmed him, just by being himself. 

 

Of course, Viktor knew he could rile him up just as efficiently. It was far too much power for another human being to have over him. A power he'd been convinced no longer existed.

 

His lungs were slowly relenting, leaving behind a trace of anguish that scorched him from the inside out. 

 

“A… Week?” Viktor rasped. 

 

“We can bring your stuff so you can work from bed.” 

 

“No.” 

 

Jayce let out a tight exhale, massaging the bridge of his nose.

 

“Viktor–” 

 

“No,” he snapped. 

 

An irritation sprang awake within Jayce and his brows furrowed above his piercing leer, lashing in Viktor’s direction.

 

“Fine. Leave, then,” Jayce conceded with a sharp tone. “Tell me where to take you. Go on.” 

 

Viktor's jaw was clenched. 

 

“Mine.” 

 

Jayce laughed mirthlessly. 

 

“Yeah, I'm not helping you with that one. If you want to go on your own, be my guest. Actually, feel free to get up and head on over.” Jayce made an open gesture towards the door. Viktor’s loud breaths were rattling through his teeth. 

 

He attempted to move his leg over the edge of the bed, and yet his body barely responded before it wailed in agony. 

 

Viktor let a frustrated sound rip from his throat. 

 

“That's what I thought,” Jayce clipped arrogantly. “Do you have anyone who can take care of you? I will happily drive you to them.” He crossed his arms and waited for Viktor to respond. 

 

His breaths had evened, and despite his anger, he was starting to think logically again. He took a moment to actually consider.

 

Maybe he could ask Sky. Maybe she could be okay with this. 

 

Sevika lived too far away and in an inaccessible apartment.

 

He thought of Silco, but he did not want to show his underbelly to him. 

 

And yet he was desperate for anyone. God, anyone except the man before him, please.  

 

“Or I could drive you to the hospital and you can be there of your own accord. It's your choice.” 

 

“No,” Viktor grunted resolutely. “No hospital.” 

 

“Very well,” Jayce nodded along. He rose from his seat with a slight flinch, one that Viktor’s attention immediately latched onto despite noticing Jayce’s efforts to conceal it. “It seems you're out of options.” 

 

Viktor bore his eyes onto Jayce, seething at his newfound determination. Despite the previous glimpse of desolation Viktor had seen caress Jayce’s features, no residue of it was left to linger. It seemed that all that remained now was snappy aggravation. 

 

Viktor was feeling a lifetime worth of fury bubbling under the surface, ready to pounce at the first opportunity. He was itching to make Jayce cry over it, for imprisoning him here and forcing him to relive an ache that he had been doing a great job at keeping at bay.

 

Jayce observed him with an infuriatingly expectant expression, one that did not soothe the sadistic impulses whispering in Viktor’s ear. There was something so smug about the way he was looking down at Viktor, with his arms crossed over his chest, all high and mighty. As if Viktor was incapable of doing anything but succumb to the situation at hand, as if his boot was pressing against Viktor’s neck and choosing whether or not he was allowed to breathe. 

 

And Viktor was at his mercy. It was the most dreadful feeling in the world. 

 

If Viktor could have jumped out of bed, stormed past him and slammed the door on his way out, he would’ve. 

 

Unfortunately, that did not seem to be in the cards for now. It saddened him to realize he truly had nowhere else to go. 

 

“Fine,” Viktor bit out, a sharp and unwilling forfeit.

 

“Fine.” 

 

They glared at each other, the air between them charged, breaths coming fast and uneven.

 

“Thank you for saving my life,” Viktor added with a slicing bitterness.

 

Jayce's hating scowl was incessant.

 

“Which time?” he shot back.

 

Viktor was struck speechless. 

 

There was a wound inside him, spurting, from the comment hurled his way.

 

“What a brave thing to say,” Viktor muttered with emptiness in his voice, one to match the one that was gnawing at his insides. 

 

“One of us had to fill the quota, don’t you think?” 

 

Viktor felt the words hit him like a punch, but he was in no shape to fight back. He did not have the energy for it, and honestly, he couldn’t begin to make sense of the words he’d heard coming out of Jayce’s mouth. He pushed it down, storing it for later processing.

 

“Rest assured,” Viktor finally said, his tone dropping low and cold. “I will be gone the moment I can stand.”

 

An irritated sound came out of Jayce's throat. He pointed a finger in Viktor's direction.

 

“I envy everyone who hasn’t fucking met you,” Jayce spat with unmistakable fury. 

 

Viktor took Jayce in and assessed him for a challenge, despite knowing there was no chance in hell he could surface victorious. Still, his studious eyes roamed over Jayce's frame.

 

His clothes were torn, the edges of each cut stained a dark red. The grime of the explosion clung to him, smeared across his clothes and every patch of exposed skin. The sight of him–battered, and seething–softened something within Viktor that he failed to keep in check.

 

A memory returned to Viktor at that moment. An image of Jayce lying on top of him while books were dropping on his back. With each heavy thud, a breath would escape his lips, ones that were inches away from Viktor’s, the air grazing his cheeks. 

 

He’d kept his eyes on Viktor, regardless of the pain, regardless of the world tumbling around them. Jayce had launched himself to protect Viktor’s vulnerable frame, and Viktor found that he had no idea what to do with that information.

 

He hated it. It made his heart clench and skip a beat. It made Viktor want to throttle him for his stupidity, just as much as it made him want to hold Jayce in his arms for the most minuscule of eternities. The constant back and forth was giving Viktor a headache. 

 

Jayce could have saved himself. He could have hidden or run. Instead, Jayce had promptly taken the brunt of every danger that could have befallen Viktor, for himself. 

 

Viktor couldn’t help but voice the actively suppressed yet relentless whisper nipping at him from within.

 

“You okay?” Viktor muttered, ashamed of his weakness. Jayce blinked in his direction. He tilted his head to the side ever so slightly, studying Viktor with a scrutiny he was hoping he could simply disappear under. They stared at each other for a long pause, the tightness in Jayce’s body bending to accommodate the unforeseen question. There was a palpable uncertainty, each landmine concealed between them beyond any of their perceptible grasps. 

 

“Dandy,” Jayce responded with a tight uplift of his lips. Hm. Before Viktor could say anything else, Jayce rushed a question out of his mouth. “Do you need me to help you into the bathroom?”

 

Ah. 

 

Yes, yes he did. 

 

Was he going to admit to it? 

 

Probably not. 

 

Again, limited choices. 

 

Viktor looked around for a moment.

 

“My cane?” He asked.

 

“Lost it in the blast. They're not allowing us anywhere near the lab until they can fix it back up and make sure it's safe.” 

 

Dammit.

 

And yet the thought of those hands around his body made him want to scratch his eyes out. 

 

“Leave a wide bottle,” he found himself saying. Jayce’s lips slightly parted. 

 

“You can't be serious.” 

 

Viktor lifted one brow as if to contest the statement. 

 

“Are you really so stubborn that you would rather piss in a bottle than let me help you?!” 

 

Anger filtered into Viktor's eyes. 

 

“I don't want your help ,“ Viktor snapped, his tone cutting and dark. “I don't want to be here, Jayce. I don't want to hear you, I don't want to talk to you, I don't want to be near you. I can’t be here.”

 

Where everything had been touched by Jayce. Where the air embraced his scent. Where he could now imagine Jayce lounging in his free time, images Viktor had not asked for.

 

It fucking hurts, he heard his own voice whine, echoing from a secret corner deep within. 

 

Viktor didn't miss the sting flash across Jayce's expression. A primal part of himself was proud, while another wanted to scurry and amend it immediately. He leashed the latter with a ruthless grip. 

 

Jayce was no longer playing the game, the words hitting exactly where Viktor had wanted them to. He seemed completely dejected. 

 

“I thought we were doing better,” Jayce murmured, gaze dropping to the floor. 

 

“There is no better. There’s just done .” 

 

His eyes lifted to Viktor’s once more, a tenderness gleaming the shade of green from within. 

 

“I refuse to believe that,” Jayce said under his breath.

 

Viktor's eyebrows pulled tightly together. That was the only sign Viktor showed of his surprise, riddled with confusion. 

 

What was his game?

 

He'd assumed they would be in agreement. Hearing those words had a contradictory effect on Viktor. For one, his anxiousness skyrocketed. He was not expecting this part to be contested and the mere thought of now having to convince Jayce to give up seemed like its own uphill battle. Especially after the venomous hope and infuriating determination Viktor had seemed to glimpse underneath his stance. 

 

Another part of him...

 

It was unnerving to find that loathing was no longer the only feeling alive inside him. It was true that Jayce had been the source of his greatest pain. But Viktor profoundly wished he could eviscerate the fact that the man before him had, just as wholeheartedly, also been the source of his greatest freedom.

 

Which is why it felt imperative to leave, now more than ever. He was swimming in poisoned waters and all that was needed to take a sip was for Viktor to open his mouth.

 

“Believe what you will, we have nothing to discuss. I will be out of your space the moment I can,” he vowed in a low, soft tone. 

 

Jayce averted his gaze to look out the window. The light stroked his profile, the warmth of his skin tone, the curve to his padded lips. After a tense-filled pause, he gave Viktor a curt nod. Without another word, he padded out of the bedroom, leaving the door ajar. Viktor could peek at the start of a wide corridor, but from this angle, he could mostly see a white wall that stretched beyond. 

 

Jayce walked back in with a dark blue glass pitcher, one with a lid. He dropped it next to the bed in complete silence. He then disappeared into a door to the left, and after hearing the sound of running water, Jayce returned with a glass that he placed next to Viktor’s nightstand. 

 

Seeing Jayce resume his supposedly caring nature, while adorning a newly etched solemn expression crafted solely by the spite of Viktor’s words, made him feel nauseated.

 

Before Jayce could retreat and disappear–and before he could think better of it–Viktor reached two trembling digits, finding a loose fold in Jayce's pants between his knuckles. Jayce jolted slightly, his eyes locked in the slow movement of Viktor’s fingers coming into contact with the side of his thigh.

 

“Take a shower,” Viktor murmured. “Eat. Take care of yourself, Jayce. Please.” 

 

He didn't turn to acknowledge Viktor. He merely swallowed and walked out of the room with a small click of the door. 

 

A rush of self-hatred surged through Viktor, the bitter realization that his actions were making no sense. That it wasn't fair to not care, and yet... Viktor shook his head. He was also angry with himself because he was perpetually being vulnerable in moments where it was of vital importance that he remain inexorable.

 

When Viktor regained some of his strength, he begrudgingly texted Sky to ask whether he could stay with her for a couple of days. Unfortunately, she had taken the time off to return to Zaun and spend time with her family. And Viktor could not afford to go to Zaun in this state. 

 

V: Don't worry, thank you for considering it nonetheless. May I ask when you leave? 

 

S: Leaving in three hours!

 

V: Is there any chance I could ask you to bring me some things from my apartment before you go?

 

S: Of course! That's no problem, I still have your spare key. What do you need? 

 

V: There are little boxes of meds in the drawer in my nightstand, bring them all. There’s a laptop and some notes on the table, please add those as well. If you could put in some change of clothes, whatever looks comfortable, and a toothbrush. Lastly, please bring me a crutch. I have several mobility aids in the closet. I will, of course, pay for your car rides there and back. It would be most helpful, if you can. 

 

S: Noted! Don't worry, I gotchu. I'll let you know when I'm on my way. 

 

Viktor let out a breath of relief. 

 

Half an hour later, another text came through.

 

S: OMG! You weren't kidding, you have so many beautiful canes! And so many different colors, too. Which one should I bring? 

 

Viktor considered for a moment. 

 

He did not want to choose that one. 

 

But if he was being honest, it was the most comfortable one. The one with the best support. Light. And it would adapt to his recovery without needing more than one aid. 

 

This was going to be a nightmare. 

 

V: Please bring the one that stands out from the rest.

 

S:  Big one? Looks like art? 

 

V: Yep

 

S: Got it! On my way.  

 

Apparently, Sky knew where Talis lived due to the parties she had attended throughout the years, which opened a new line of questioning that Viktor did not have the strength to pursue.

 

He made an effort to stay awake, but the moment he read her message, exhaustion pulled him under anew. 

 

When he came to, there was soup inside an insulated mug with a straw on it on the table next to him.

 

And his crutch was leaning against the bed, alongside his other belongings. 

 

He sent her another grateful text and a quick money transfer for the rides, before he fell asleep again. 

 

///

 

The following day, Viktor spent in and out of sleep. He barely saw Jayce, and when he caught him coming in to bring him food, he made a conscious effort to avoid looking at him. He murmured thank yous after every meal, never once getting a response back.

 

He was glad for it. 

 

Viktor allowed himself to return to sleep. The sooner he recovered, the sooner he could leave.

 

The morning after that, the smell of coffee hit him before Jayce knocked lightly on his door. Viktor invited him in, as he always did, and Jayce stepped in with a tray laden with breakfast. Viktor was following his rigid ritual of pointedly not acknowledging Talis while the sounds of the tray clattering against the table echoed in the room. They sounded as if something was grating inside Viktor’s skull.

 

Now that he'd have time to recover and the dust seemed to settle, their interactions felt wrong. Especially after what Jayce had done for Viktor in the present time, despite their tumultuous past.

 

And God, it was so quiet.

 

The moment Viktor went to thank him, his traitorous eyes fell on Jayce’s face. 

 

He’d showered. Viktor thought he seemed pensive. Maybe a little angry. Disconnected. 

 

An- 

 

My.

 

“You wear glasses?” Viktor blurted out. 

 

As Jayce lowered the tray on the nightstand, his eyes slightly widened. He let out a slow breath, and without uttering a single word, he turned on his heel and left the room. 

 

The next time he walked in, Viktor locked into Jayce’s face unabashedly. 

 

He had gotten himself squared, black frames. It made him look… 

 

“Since when do you wear glasses?” 

 

Jayce sighed heavily. 

 

“So, now you do want to talk to me? Which one is it, Viktor? 'Cause I'm getting dizzy.” 

 

Embarrassment coiled inside his stomach, especially when he felt something in his chest alleviate to see Jayce engaging again. 

 

“I didn't mean…” Viktor pressed his lips together, not wanting to prompt another conversation. He let out a tight breath. “They suit you. Is all.” 

 

Jayce’s eyes met Viktor’s, and he noticed how tired he looked. How deep the bags under his eyes were. How dulled his usually electric hair was. 

 

“I know,” he said with a casual, slight tilt to his lips. “I bought them.” 

 

Viktor groaned. “Could you at least pretend to have some shred of humility?” 

 

“You know what? No, I don’t think I could,” Jayce quipped after pretending to ponder for a moment. “Besides, humility lessons from you? In what world,” he chuckled tiredly.  

 

And for some reason, that tugged the corners of Viktor’s lips upwards. Jayce’s eyes grazed Viktor’s expression before returning once more with a slight surprise at seeing him offering Jayce a quiet smile. 

 

“I... appreciate the food,” Viktor murmured, genuinely this time around. “And everything else... you’ve done for me since I got here.” 

 

Jayce opened his mouth and then closed it. Shifted. Blinked.

 

"It's no problem.” 

 

There was a barely perceptible smile peeking through and Viktor was helpless to memorise it, even if he was consciously attempting to avoid it. 

 

Stupid.

 

Jayce stared for a moment at Viktor’s crutch, leaning on the wall–  the one he’d crafted with his bare hands. His lips parted again for speech, only for no sound to come out.

 

With a slight shake of his head, Jayce let out a deep breath and left Viktor to his solitude. 

 

///

 

After more than two days of recovery, Viktor decided it was time for a bath. His progress had been swift, and just the day before, he’d managed to get up and use the bathroom on his own, which was an immense relief.

 

He was still covered in dirt and he was itching to scrape off any remnants of their destroyed lab, as well as change into fresh clothes. He’d been too stubborn to let Jayce help him, and too weak to do it himself. 

 

With the help of his most reliable crutch, he limped into the bathroom inside his room. The space was spacious enough to let him move at his own pace as he made his way to the tub. He drew back the curtains and started running hot water. 

 

As he sat on the toilet lid to peel off his clothes, something in his direct eyeline caught his eye. 

 

He drew in a sharp breath. 

 

This tub had handles on it. 

 

He had never been in a Piltovian apartment before with handles anywhere , really. It was the rare occasion when they offered ramps instead of stairs, let alone any other possible accessibility. He was completely dumbfounded, yet also instantly grateful. 

 

The bathroom was thick with steam by the time Viktor finally climbed into the tub, letting the hot water scorch his skin. He sank into it, using both the handle and his crutch to steady himself as he reclined.

 

Viktor tied his hair into a bun, closed his eyes and let the warmth seep into every pore of his skin. 

 

He desperately needed the reset. 

 

There was so much anger within him, anger he had tried to lock away for years. Even though he had managed to do so for some time. 

 

But no matter how angry he might feel, the moment Jayce seemed to be in pain, his anger always took a second seat. It was extremely confusing and disorienting. 

 

He didn’t want to speak to Jayce, and yet seeing him be silent made Viktor want to pull his hair out. He did not want to see Jayce, and yet every time he walked into the room, he seemed to hold a neon sign to his head. He did not want to be around Jayce, and yet. 

 

Viktor wished he could divide himself in two. The part of him that wanted to forget anything had ever happened between them and the part of him that felt the necessity to protect himself from his own encumbering stupidity. 

 

As much as he wanted to hold on to his fury, it was becoming obvious to him that such a thing would be an impossibility around Jayce Talis. At least, the permanent kind of visceral anger. 

 

Semi-intermittent was yet to be explored. 

 

Jayce had genuinely, most likely, saved his life this time around. Without prompt. 

 

And then, allowed Viktor to stay under his supervision. 

 

Viktor could not fathom why Jayce would have ever volunteered for such a task. He could not make any sense of why Jayce was aiding in his recovery in the first place. Did his abhorrent moral compass not allow him to turn his back? Was Jayce stuck with Viktor as much as Viktor was stuck with Jayce? 

 

Viktor couldn't stop thinking about it all. 

 

How Jayce had taken every hardcover plunging into his back with an unbending grit. How he hadn't uttered a single complaint. 

 

Or how Jayce’s frame had covered his own like a blanket made of steel. How his hands had protected Viktor’s skull without a fleeting reticence. 

 

How the mere nickname coming out of his mouth had sent Viktor into a spiral. Memories of last conversations and feelings he did not want to awaken coming to the surface with a shattering violence.

 

But just as incomprehensibly important, how he was conscious to bring Viktor food that was effortless enough to eat. For instance.

 

Viktor stared at his crutch . Eventually, he sighed.

 

The thought of opening up that wound festered into his organs like an infection that had been left unattended for years.

 

But perhaps Viktor could try. For protecting Viktor and letting him fully recover away from the hospital.

 

For that, Viktor would consider letting Talis speak his mind about whatever he was so clearly itching to blurt out. Once. When Viktor so decided.

 

And then , they would be even. 

 

A sacrifice for a sacrifice . 

 

When Viktor finally decided to rise from his bath, he came to the sudden realization that he could not. The water had been so hot that it had raised his blood pressure, causing him to feel dizzy. He’d be swaying on his feet, which wouldn’t be the safest option for him for the time being. 

 

He considered his options. Unfortunately, the only one he felt comfortable with was waiting until the water cooled and his head with it. 

 

///

 

Viktor jolted awake when he heard a soft knock on the door.

 

“Viktor?” Jayce’s voice called from the other side. “Are you okay in there? I came by two hours ago and everything is exactly as I left it. I’m worried.” 

 

Viktor rolled his eyes. 

 

“Everything is fine– thank you, Jayce.” 

 

The light moved around under the door and Viktor felt a flicker of amusement at the recognition of Jayce nervously shifting his feet. He was surprised to find that, in this precise moment, Viktor did not perceive any anger inside him. Merely relief.

 

Relief that he could disappear and someone would notice. 

 

“Tell me the truth,” Jayce’s voice came again, still serious yet this time with an almost imperceptible tease. “Are you stuck in there?” 

 

“What? No, of course not!” Viktor replied, a touch too quickly. He heard a huff of air. 

 

“Who are you trying to lie to, Viktor?” 

 

Viktor’s mouth fell open. His stomach backstabbed him with a clench at the deep, self-assured tone.

 

He scoffed to himself. “And why would you think I’m lying?” Viktor voiced back, smooth and serene.

 

Jayce let out an amused sound, clarifying matter-of-factly, "That's your lying voice."

 

Viktor had no idea what to respond. He wanted to tell Jayce that having a lying voice was, by definition, an utter failure. Viktor did not take kindly to incongruencies he could easily avoid. So, Viktor hoped Jayce had been jokingly pulling his leg, because otherwise Viktor had some recalibrating to do.

 

He blinked.

 

"That evidence is unsubstantiated."

 

“I’m coming in,” Jayce suddenly announced, the handle clicking as he turned it. Viktor’s immediate screech of protest made Jayce’s laughter spill out freely. He paused.

 

“I want to hear you say it.”

 

A beat of silence. 

 

Viktor groaned.

 

“This is none of your business, you fat-headed giant!” 

 

“Saaaaaaaay it,” Jayce insisted teasingly. "Or I'm barging in."

 

“Fine.” Viktor opened his mouth, hesitated, and shut it again. He took a deep breath. Insufferable bastard. “I am... stuck. For now,” he quickly added. 

 

Jayce chuckled before genuinely asking, “And why can’t I come in?” 

 

Viktor looked down at himself, pathetically curled in the corner of the tub. 

 

“I am very naked.” 

 

There was another pause. Viktor could almost hear Jayce’s cogs turning through the door. 

 

“I see,” he responded carefully. 

 

It was then that Viktor noticed he was freezing,  the bath cold to the touch. Now he lacked the necessary strength to hoist himself up for a new and completely different reason. He had begun to devise a potential plan in his mind when Jayce’s voice came through again. 

 

“What if I cover my eyes?” 

 

Viktor snorted. Considered. He desperately wanted to get out of this water sogging his skin.

 

“Would you actually?” 

 

“On it!” He called out from somewhere further away, completely ignoring Viktor's baffled tone. Viktor shook his head, placing no hope in anything but his own ability to get himself out of this one.

 

Unfortunately, he was coming up empty-handed.

 

Jayce returned less than five minutes later. 

 

“Okay! I’m ready. I won’t see a thing, so you’ll have to guide me.” 

 

Viktor stared at the ceiling, exasperation clear.

 

“Don’t you know your own bathroom?” 

 

“I am impaired , Viktor.” 

 

Viktor smiled to himself at the dramatic tone. 

 

“Fine,” he conceded. 

 

When Jayce finally walked into the bathroom, the first thing Viktor noticed was that Jayce was wearing a plastic bag over his head. 

 

The second thing he noticed was that Jayce was in his boxers. 

 

“Where are your pants?” Viktor shrieked.

 

Jayce shuffled forward, arms stretched out in front of him like a zombie on the prowl for Viktor.

 

Viktor’s eyes betrayed him, dropping straight to the thick thighs in his direct line of sight. 

 

Viktor felt concern puncture his lungs. Jayce had several healing cuts in his thighs from the explosion, covered in white bandages that contrasted against the bruising and redness of his skin. The sight of them brought a sharp pang of guilt to Viktor. 

 

Then he noticed the compression sleeve on his left knee. 

 

"Oh, Jayce. Your knee," Viktor murmured, eyes scanning over its surface. 

 

"It's fine, don't worry about it," Jayce said while taking another overly cautious step. Viktor wanted to smile at the sight of Jayce's theatrics and he slightly detested the fact that he did not want to combat the urge.

 

Jayce's elegant legs were covered with dark curls, scattered everywhere except on the inner curve of his bulging thighs. They were an unfair display of toned almost machinery, beautifully lean muscles shifting with each step forward. His boxers, adorned with little cartoon avocado slices bearing various expressions, hung loosely above the midpoint of his thighs. Viktor’s face burned with disappointment when he realized there was no discernible outline of anything beyond.

 

He snapped his gaze upward, mortified by his line of thought.

 

"Why on earth did you come in here without pants?" Viktor now demanded with a panicked hiss, blaming Jayce for his wandering eyes.

 

“I thought it might help,” Jayce responded tightly, taking another tentative step forward and none the wiser. “Being the only naked person in the room is a recurrent nightmare of mine. Am I close? I feel like I’m close.” 

 

Viktor’s blush deepened, spreading like wildfire at the thought of such a gesture. He silently thanked the ridiculous plastic bag for hiding Jayce’s face.

 

“Two more steps,” Viktor said quietly. 

 

When Jayce finally stopped in front of the tub, all Viktor could think about was how massive he was. His presence filled his entire line of vision, towering over Viktor in a way that made him feel vulnerable and minuscule.

 

Viktor glanced up and noticed something new under the plastic bag– a sleep mask strapped over Jayce’s eyes.

 

The absurdity of it all hit him at once. Viktor had to bite back a laugh, the corners of his mouth twitching involuntarily. The man was nothing if not prepared for the worst-case scenario. 

 

“Okay, I’m coming down,” Jayce murmured. “Tell me if you need me to grab you in some way.” 

 

It all seemed rather clinical, which only added to Viktor’s amusement. Jayce kneeled in front of him and gripped the edge of the tub, awaiting instructions. Viktor fought the urge to remove that hideous plastic bag from his head, to take advantage of this moment of absolute serenity and properly study the lines in this face he had once memorised to perfection.

 

Being in a vulnerable position was clearly keeping Viktor from having coherent thoughts.

 

Encouraged by the fact that Viktor was currently imperceptible, he lifted a shaky hand. The sound of swishing water accompanied the movement, and he offered Jayce’s a tentative squeeze. 

 

“Here I am,” Viktor shared softly.

 

There was a tight breath from Jayce, possibly surprised by the sudden, frigidly wet contact. 

 

“Here you are,” Jayce faintly echoed, stubbornly warm all the same. “Alright, how do you want to do this?” 

 

After some back and forth, Jayce was able to grip Viktor by the elbows and pull him into a standing position. His knee complained immediately and exhaustion announced itself at the ready.  

 

Viktor reached for his crutch, pausing briefly to glance down at himself.

 

He sighed, the thought of wrapping a towel around him feeling like an unnecessary effort. Hands occupied and patience wearing thin, he resigned himself to the situation.

 

“Okay,” he muttered, “keep your bag on, because I’m leaving this bathroom exactly as I came into this world.”

 

“Butt-ass naked,” Jayce smirked.

 

Viktor couldn’t stop the faint smile tugging at his lips. “Is this amusing to you, Dr. Talis?”

 

“This,” Jayce replied with exaggerated seriousness, “is anything but, Dr. Jedlitzka. Attacked by a treacherous bathtub, ensnared in its unforgiving grasp with no chance of escape. This porcelain trap almost left you out to dry in nothing but your birthday suit." He was shaking his head, the sound of ruffling plastic filling the room. "A scandal, to be sure.”

 

When they finally reached the bed, Viktor lowered himself onto the comfortable mattress, prompting Jayce to let go of the grip he had on Viktor’s arm. Viktor finally smiled up at the man who reminded him of his old friend, protected by the fact that he could not perceive it. Viktor smiled because this ridiculous human being was wearing a bag on his head and no pants, just for the sake of making Viktor feel comfortable. It was absurd. Among... other things.

 

“You’re a thimble-headed gherkin, you know that?” 

 

Jayce shrugged. “What else is new?” 

 

Viktor promptly grabbed some shorts from the pile of clothes Sky had brought him and tugged them on. His body didn’t ache nearly as much as it had two days ago, but the nips and pinches were still incredibly draining when there was no respite from them.

 

Jayce was still awkwardly standing in front of him.

 

“Here, let me see you out,” Viktor offered, amusement lacing his voice.

 

As he gripped his crutch and pulled himself up, Jayce instinctively stepped forward, and their chests collided– warmth and an unwelcome proximity sparking in the unexpected moment.

 

Jayce gasped and Viktor held his breath. Jayce’s hands had flown to Viktor’s forearms, keeping him upright so he wouldn’t topple over. 

 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I had no idea where you were.” 

 

Their abdomens pressed together, rising and falling in sync with each labored breath. An unforeseen rush spread down Viktor’s spine, at the same time that a shrieking panic filtered through his mind at the thought that Jayce might somehow perceive a section of his body that Viktor was in no way inclined to share. Least of all, with him .

 

Viktor cleared his throat, desperate to detach himself, suddenly struggling not to shove Jayce away and give in to the whispers inside his mind that wanted to lure him into a downward spiral. The sound was sharp in the charged silence.

 

Jayce pulled back abruptly, releasing him as though Viktor’s touch had scalded him.

 

“Sorry,” he repeated. 

 

Viktor took a quiet breath. With a slight edge of desperation, he reached for a shirt. The moment it settled over him, Viktor felt a wave of relief flood his every sense.

 

He led Jayce out of the door, finally seeing the long, dark corridor. There was an opening at the end filled with natural light. Despite the contradicting back and forths, Viktor lingered before returning to bed– he couldn't get that blazing recognition of the person before him out of his goddamn head.

 

“Jayce,” Viktor called. 

 

He shifted. “Yes?” 

 

“If you ever…" God, what was he saying, what was he saying, nonsensical mumbo jumbo, yet Viktor couldn't stop , "–feel inclined to use the armchair in this room, you’re welcome to do so. This is your home, and I wouldn’t want to deprive you… Of your furniture.” 

 

The furious need to face-palm himself was almost violent. He kept himself outwardly impassive.

 

There was a beat of silence.

 

Without warning, Viktor leaned against the wall and thwacked Jayce’s ankle with his crutch.

 

Jayce doubled over and let out a howl of pain. “What was that for?!”

 

“You were smiling,” Viktor responded with some bite, grateful for the shift in focus.

 

“How could you have possibly known that?!” He lifted a finger to point at his head. “I’m fully covered!” 

 

“Magic,” Viktor smirked. He felt his legs were about to collapse under him. “Regardless,–”

 

“Are you sure you’d like my company?” Jayce interrupted with a careful tone. “I thought you said you didn’t want to be anywhere near me.” 

 

Of course, he had a point. Of course, Viktor did not want his company or to be anywhere near his vicinity.

 

Of course, Viktor was utterly helpless to invite it, anyway. 

 

Sisyphus, you infectious jackass.

 

“Well,” Viktor mused. “We don’t seem to have a choice, for now. And fighting all the time feels exhausting.” 

 

The plastic rustled with Jayce’s nod. 

 

“So, how about we take it by the moment? We’ll both be angry again at some point, I’m sure.” 

 

“You can count on that,” Viktor agreed with a certain edge. “You’re impossibly infuriating and I fucking despise you, most of the time.” 

 

A moment of stillness surged between them.

 

“Huh,” Jayce said, his voice laced with curious intrigue. “How did you do that? It's like you took the words right out of my mouth.”  

 

Jayce’s smile was unmistakable in his voice, and before Viktor could strike again with his crutch, Jayce darted back, releasing a small, victorious laugh.

 

Viktor chuckled at the sight, that itchy recognition spiking anew in his chest. Shaking his head, and under the cover of Jayce's plastic darkness, Viktor leaned into the doorframe for a fleeting, lingering moment. 

 

Then, he returned to his room and collapsed in bed.

 

///

 

Jayce sat in his living room, consumed by thoughts of a piercing he’d felt pressed against the low section of his stomach. 

 

And even though that concept alone had him entertained for hours, Jayce still replayed over and over Viktor’s chuckle in his head. The sound had been low and rich, unexpectedly warm. It brought him back to a lifetime ago.

 

Viktor’s proposition echoed, too.

 

And, most importantly, he’d discovered that Viktor only despised him most of the time. 

 

Surprisingly… 

 

Jayce was grinning.

Notes:

TW: panic attack, illness, ptsd flashbacks, toxic behaviour, body injuries, descriptions etc

///

DONT FALL ASLEEP ON YOUR TUBS PLS

maybe the recovery is a lil rushed but we're gonna make it work, trust the process (me to myself) 8)

my bby viktor is having so many conflicting feelings yall D: good thing he went to therapy (even tho hes still a lil toxic cause trauma is a bitch until you make it your bitch)

v: i dont wanna talk to you >:(
also v: y arent you talking to me :'( i fix

J last chapter: but we hate him, remember?
J this chapter: tihi

but theyre both so silly to me

As always, any feedback and/or overall opinion is not only welcome, but deeply appreciated <3

tooodalooooo!

Chapter 15: Let things decimate.

Summary:

Viktor recovers, finds some secret shi

Jayce visits an old friend

Notes:

TW IN ENDNOTES

hiiiiiii

ALSOOOOOOO

Kalei, a wonderful human being that is often active in the comments, wrote a one shot fic called Sometimes An Avacado Is Just An Avacado (and sometimes it's not), inspired by the underwear mentioned in the last chapter (hehehehehhehe). Please, give it a read if you have the chance, it's funny and petty (which we LOVE), and I adore sharing your guys' talents. I invite you to give the author all the love <3 ;) Thank you again, Kalei! It is a truly beautiful gift.

“You’re up,” Jayce voiced with surprise the moment he stepped into the room. 

 

Viktor was walking around the bed, crutch poised under his arm. His whole bodyweight seemed to drape over it, knees bent inwards and an unnatural curvature to his posture that made something in Jayce want to snap. 

 

Viktor should, very clearly, be in bed. 

 

“Yes,” Viktor responded, a slight wind to his tone. Reaching the edge of the mattress he was currently sleeping on, he lowered himself to sit with careful precision. “Seems I will be out of here sooner than anticipated."

 

Jayce's lips pursed before he swiftly forced the edges to lift, hidden by his current recline. He finished lowering the tray onto the nightstand, utensils clattering with the slow descent. 

 

“Great. How long do you think?” 

 

Jayce kept his movements as casual as his tone. Crossing the bedroom, he reached for the window and with a quiet creak, he cracked it open, letting some fresh air swish into the room. Viktor settled beneath the blankets and fluffed a pillow against the headboard to lean his spine against. Once comfortable, he reached for the mug at his bedside table.

 

“By tomorrow evening,” Viktor announced after taking a sip of his morning coffee.  

 

Time had been playing games with Jayce. He did not know if it was some sort of consequential karmic ripple from having spent so many years searching for something that now seemed very obvious to be out of his control. 

 

Time stopping. What a joke. 

 

Largely because time now seemed to both slow and speed up depending on its capricious mood. It dragged when he sat alone in his living room, waiting for the time to bring Viktor his meals. It hurried when he immersed himself in his work. It dulled again when he heard shuffling noises coming from the end of his corridor. Only to accelerate anew the moment he walked through that bedroom door. 

 

It was toying with him, with his sense of reality, with sensical logic. Jayce felt as if he’d been thrown inside a snow globe and shook around, floating in a thick yet sleek substance without knowing up from down. 

 

Viktor was adamant about leaving, and just as with everything else, Jayce was torn about it. 

 

Especially today, of all days.

 

On one hand, he was glad for it. Each day, he felt a new wall crumble within him with an ease he had no say in. Jayce had constructed each of those defenses with his bare hands, with sweat and tears and rage. Brick by brick, he’d settled one on top of the other and ensured that he would never be so unprepared again. The detachment had been a necessary commodity to continue to survive.  

 

To see his hard work so easily toppled felt slightly humiliating. Years of effort–effort conceived in a pool of ashes–decimated by singular, unexpected interactions. They caved in the moment his brain recognised Viktor as his long-lost friend, which seemed to be more recurrent as of late.

 

A part of himself mourned his hard work, and in moments coated in panicked solitude, Jayce attempted to glue some of that rubble together. An embedded routine kicking in, but no longer with any real feeling behind it.

 

That first side of Jayce wondered if having some distance from Viktor might help him feel more alleviated. The sooner Viktor left, the sooner Jayce could begin to pick up the pieces of himself that lay at his feet–cracked, exhumed, barely beating.

 

On the other hand…

 

I refuse to believe that.

 

It had surprised Jayce to hear that voice coming out of him in such a clear and self-assured tone. Most surprising of all was how those words had defiantly found their way into his mouth, trampling over any security measures and shaking Jayce’s entire self with their unexpected sincerity.

 

Done ?

 

For Jayce, he didn’t think they could ever be done. Viktor could leave tomorrow and ignore him for eternity, and that void carved inside himself would still carry Viktor’s silhouette. It was an inescapable fact that Jayce had accepted. Even during swift periods of respite where he’d finally managed to distract himself, to not spend every waking moment consumed by thoughts of Viktor–he’d still found him in his sleep. 

 

Around the four-year mark, he’d begun to notice that his mind could not summon up Viktor’s features anymore. All Jayce saw in his mind whenever he crossed it was a blurry frame, a faceless man with nothing but two excruciatingly precise dots decorating his expression. 

 

For months, he’d sporadically worried. He had but two remembrances in his possession, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to look at either of them. As the months dragged into years, each time Jayce’s memory pulled images from that time of his life, they returned hazier than before. It was as if Viktor had been eroding in his mind, the details he’d held so dear unbearably slipping through his fingers. Eventually, Jayce had had to come to terms with the fact that Viktor’s image would, at some point, fully disintegrate from his consciousness. 

 

Except one night, Viktor came to him in a dream. 

 

And the moment Jayce stood face to face with him, his heart clenched tightly in his chest. 

 

Jayce realised he was conscious in that dream because he remembered thinking, I can see you now. 

 

It caught him so completely off guard to discern his features with such pristine clarity: his confident posture, the crinkled curls expanding behind his ears, his oversized honeyed colored sweater. Jayce had stared. He’d stared at the slight bump right below the bridge of Viktor’s otherwise cutting nose, at his full brows, at his golden eyes, at his thin upper lip. He’d stared at the moles on his face, cursing himself for placing them to perfection in the faceless version of Viktor. 

 

It had been like staring into a lived-in photograph. 

 

Worst of all, there was no sign of contempt within those dreams. Whatever the two of them were doing, whether just sitting together by the docks or each of them working on their own project in a lab, it was profoundly peaceful and Jayce was trapped by constantly looking back. He couldn’t believe that Viktor was right there, that he could see him. Actually see him. 

 

They rarely talked. Jayce just took in his company and co-existed beside him until he’d ultimately wake himself up out of sheer irritation. He simply couldn’t stomach spending the rest of the night hyperfocusing on the fact that Viktor was there, too. Obsessive impulses weren’t particularly restful. 

 

Let alone any of the other torturous dreams that forced themselves onto Jayce, puppeteering his body without an ounce of mercy.

 

But in truth, the deeper layer that sparked that rousing anger came from the fact that, on many occasions, Jayce unavoidably became self-aware within the span of a blink. The moment he noticed the familiar contours of Viktor’s face, his mind would jolt into lucidity. Jayce understood why with ease– he couldn’t recall Viktor with such clarity when he was awake. The very act of noticing any details was its own giveaway. 

 

It had been as if the back of his mind were responding to his pleas by holding Viktor to the light, details refined and in pristine condition inside his brain. And then, it would give Jayce an opportunity to savor it by tapping him on the shoulder, bringing his consciousness forward to help him remember once he was awake. 

 

How could it be possible? How could his conscious mind fail to access the exact memory of Viktor’s face, while his subconscious meticulously kept in store an overflowing archive of him? 

 

It was strange, to have remembered more of Viktor’s features due to his dreams rather than his memories.

 

Although, in truth, both seemed to be one and the same.

 

That second part of him did not want to let Viktor go.

 

Nevertheless, Jayce was certain he was not dreaming now.

 

Perhaps he could not recover that Viktor in his life, but he could find closure. Some way to avoid the bombardment in his sleep whenever Viktor decided to be on his merry way. 

 

Jayce was studying his former lab partner, how he held his utensil between his fingertips and near his line of sight, rotating it in a careful inspection. 

 

“I had a bet with myself that you'd hate that spoon,” Jayce found himself murmuring with a soft smile. 

 

Viktor’s eyes snapped in his direction, the silverware frozen mid-air. 

 

His hair was arranged in a bun atop his head, which somehow both softened and sharpened his facial attributes, depending on his will. Viktor let out a huff of air. 

 

“You would be correct. The structural integrity is beyond flimsy.” Viktor narrowed his eyes in Jayce’s direction. “If you knew I would hate it, why did you bring it?”

 

Jayce shrugged. “Had to put the theory to the test.” 

 

Viktor responded with a low hum, his focus returning to the spoon and his mind still clearly groggy from his rest.

 

“I have some errands to run this morning, but until then I will be working from here,” Jayce informed him, a slight tension creeping in Viktor’s gaze with this new proclaimed affirmation. Viktor lowered his hand slowly. “You know, to ensure I don’t miss out on my furniture,” Jayce added with a teasing note. Viktor rolled his eyes, the fleeting twitch to his lips like a shooting star. 

 

“Be my guest,” Viktor grumbled ironically.

 

For most of the morning, Jayce settled on the comfortable lounge, bringing a make-shift table for his lap in order to support his computer and other notes he had sprawled around the living room. 

 

Viktor seemed to do the same, positioning his laptop on his thighs and beginning his incessant clacking for the day.

 

Neither spoke to the other, but a comfortable silence materialized between them. Naturally, Viktor’s exasperated sighs followed suit. 

 

Viktor seemed to catch himself at times and cut them mid-way through. It evoked a need to laugh, thinking of the stubborn man before him, not wanting to give Jayce the satisfaction of being right, or the enjoyment of hearing Viktor suffer through his work.

 

In the moments where it got heavenly silent, other noises pricked Jayce’s attention. He was used to hearing the crackle of electricity coursing through the socket behind his bed, the occasional tick of something unseen, or faint scratching noises coming from inside the walls. They all weaved together in a symphony that only he seemed to be bothered by. The curse tended to rob him of his focus. 

 

Throughout the morning, a new clicking sound was occasionally filtering into the front of his consciousness and distracting him from his work. The first time he perceived it, Jayce perked up and tried to make sense of what it was or where it was coming from. Roused by the slight shift in Jayce, Viktor glanced up from his laptop and stared at him with an obvious question in his eyes. Jayce merely replied with a shake of his head. 

 

With a sigh, Jayce attempted to keep his attention on finishing a design he’d thought of for the arm of his mechanical suit.  

 

“Argh,” Viktor complained after a couple of hours. Jayce raised a brow in his direction. 

 

“What?” 

 

“Sky brought me the wrong charger. Do you happen to have a spare one lying around?” 

 

“For your beast of a laptop? No, I don’t.” 

 

That’s the longest interaction Jayce could account for from their morning spent together. 

 

Eventually, it happened again. A soft whirring this time, pulling Jayce away from his project. Jayce turned his head sideways, casually leaning his ear to the wall. He was under the impression that it sounded slightly louder from this angle, but he could not be entirely certain. 

 

“Do you hear that?” He prompted Viktor, who raised his head from his screen and met Jayce’s eyes for further context. Once he perceived Jayce’s quietude, he faintly tilted his head and sharpened his listening skills for a moment. 

 

The shift in Viktor's posture further elongated his neck, and Jayce's gaze naturally followed the graceful dip, tracing the line that curved into his nape. He appreciated the subtle movement of Viktor's tendons as they shifted with the motion, and without thinking, Jayce's eyes mapped the intricate play of muscles and skin.

 

And there was a mole. 

 

There was a shy mole nestled where Viktor’s neck met his shoulder, easily tucked away from sight. 

 

Jayce had lost the damned sound, again.

 

“No,” Viktor confessed, unknowing of where Jayce’s mind had wandered to. He smirked as he returned to his screen. “But we both know you have a vivid imagination. Isn’t that where your dignity lives, Talis?” 

 

“Ha, ha,” Jayce let out in a serious tone, mirroring his actions. 

 

When noon struck, Jayce stood with a stretch, knee still pinching in protest. He closed his laptop and left it on the mattress. He made his way over to the nightstand, collected the empty tray, and vacated the room. Jayce gathered some clothes from the guest bedroom and, after a shower, readied himself to leave. He returned with a knock to ask Viktor to use his bathroom. Viktor, lost in his thoughts, relented with a quiet nod. When he emerged, Viktor’s gaze sharpened under a frown. 

 

“Do you need anything from the outside world?” Jayce asked before stepping out of the bedroom door. 

 

“No,” Viktor replied with a watchful expression that Jayce ignored. He gestured to his laptop on the bed. 

 

“Feel free to use it if you run out of battery,” he offered. Viktor gave him a grateful tilt of his head before Jayce left.

 

///

 

This year around, Jayce decided to take the ferry into Zaun, not wanting to drive yet with his unreliable, swollen knee. 

 

The further he travelled, the narrower the streets and the more crammed the buildings got to each other. In time, graffiti sprang to life, decorating the cracked walls with colorful designs. The air seemed thicker here, heavier. 

 

As the familiar building finally came into view, the faint echo of a past agony brushed Jayce’s mind. 

 

Walking into that edifice was a harrowing experience, every single time. 

 

It was like having to combat a heartless enemy before getting remotely close to the treasure lying beyond. Thoughts of neighbours recognising him stiffened his nape and heightened his senses to the point of discomfort. Jayce could feel his heart swelling into his mouth.

 

Even if the person he'd always been most nonsensically terrified to bump into was currently at work, in his own apartment. 

 

His hands felt clammy against the bag he was clutching, a familiar void nuzzling inside his chest with a memory that was hazy in its entirety. After a deep, deep breath, Jayce pressed the doorbell. 

 

“Please tell me it's not who I think it is?” The voice quibbled through the speakers after a moment.

 

Jayce smiled softly. “You're not getting rid of me, babička.”

 

She sniggered.

 

“Thought this year might be my year.” 

 

Babette buzzed him in. 

 

He trooped by the corridor to his left, deliberately avoiding its acknowledgement. Jayce simply, and effortfully,  pretended it didn’t exist– as he always did. 

 

Ascending the stairs to the second floor in a hurry, Jayce came to Babs’s door and found it slightly ajar. He tucked his hands behind his back and waited.

 

In under twenty seconds, she appeared in the doorway with a wide grin lighting up her face.

 

Babette was a petite woman, her frame slightly stooped with age as her spine curved inward. She draped herself in a cosy, knitted shawl. It was purple, frayed at the edges, and she’d been adamant in informing Jayce she’d made it herself. 

 

Her hair, a fiery cascade of scarlet strands, seemed to want to defy time. It was a color that Babs stubbornly claimed had been hers naturally since birth, despite its youthful vibrance. Wrinkles carved her complexion like winding rivers seeking the sea, coursing through her skin as if time had had a brush and her body was the canvas. Bright blue eyeshadow adorned her lids, a saucy addition to the vibrant red coating her lips.

 

Babs' deep brown eyes sparkled as she looked up at Jayce, a familiar mischief behind them.

 

“Better luck next year,” he chuckled as a form of greeting and as a response to her wishful thinking. He bent over and circled his arms around her. She returned the affectionate squeeze. “Hey, Babs.” 

 

She stroked his back, her trembling movements coming with a jerk that didn't use to exist a few years back. 

 

“Hey, kiddo,” she greeted with fondness. “Gosh, what are you feeding yourself? You keep growing.” 

 

Jayce laughed and narrowed his eyes with amused suspicion. “I don't think I've grown for quite a while.” 

 

Babs leaned back and mirrored the gesture. “Are you suggesting I've shrunk?” 

 

Jayce gasped theatrically. “I wouldn’t dare,” he vowed, pressing his hand to his heart. Babs laughed openly and smacked his forearm. “Maybe you'll shrink enough to fit into my pocket,” he amended with a wink. “I'll bring you along on my day so you can rate my acquaintances.” 

 

“Promises, promises,” she waved off. Babs raised her shaky hand, and Jayce bent down to meet her, placing his cheek in her expectant palm. She cupped it with a sweet adoration that also shone in her eyes. Jayce felt a genuine smile unfurl in his mouth. “I'm happy to see you, kiddo.”

 

“I’m happy to see you, also.” 

 

Babs gave his cheek a cold smack and pivoted into her apartment. 

 

“Come, now.”

 

As per usual, the moment Jayce stepped through the door, a sharp hiss cut through the air. There was a flash of fur darting away, desperately seeking shelter in the shadows of a vacant room. Jayce let out a breath, knowing that once it vanished, the creature did not usually return. 

 

Unbothered, Babs cheerfully shuffled into the kitchen as her voice bubbled out with tidbits of information that tied one after the other, leaving no real room for Jayce to interject. As she did every year, she turned on the kettle and began to rummage through her cabinets for snacks. Jayce followed her, bending his neck under the threshold to keep his head from knocking into the frame.

 

As she spun back around, her monologue was abruptly cut short. Babs's eyes widened as they fell upon the bag perched on Jayce's outstretched fingers.

 

“Happy birthday.” 

 

Babs squealed, ripping the bag from his hands. He laughed at her enthusiasm. 

 

Her eyes shone in pure delight and excitement as she unwrapped the gift, only to find another flower Jayce had molded for her. 

 

The first year, he'd offered her real flowers. But Babs had politely turned them away, since, according to her, they were hard to upkeep. But Jayce was stubborn enough to see past her tough Zaunite exterior and quickly realised she couldn’t stand to watch things wither and die around her. It seemed she had enough of that as it was. One of the downsides to old age, she’d called it.

 

Consequently, the following year, Jayce went to the smithy and forged a flower from metal, shaping each petal with care and precision. He’d wanted her to have something beautiful that wouldn’t fade, something she could treasure without worry.

 

At first, Jayce had done it due to some morally embedded sense of mortifying obligation. But fairly quickly, he genuinely came to realise that he adored her feisty personality, and what was once dutiful gratitude swiftly turned into genuine friendship. 

 

And every year in turn, she offered him a personally knitted beanie. Jayce had insisted that it wasn’t necessary, but she’d given him a stink eye that had him quickly backpedaling in the conversation. Thus, becoming their yearly tradition.

 

This year, Jayce had hammered the outstretched silver petals to reflect with the warm light around them. The stem was slender but quite sturdy, so it could easily hold up the rest of the flower. Jayce loved attention to detail, so he'd created engravings to make it appear as if life was pulsating through it. Twisting leaves unfurled from the bottom of the stem, each adorning a powerful midrib that sprouted venules in all different directions. In the center, the flower’s heart was adorned with tiny, golden beads, in order to give the impression of pollen, awaiting to lull any passer-by. A little splash of color for his own satisfaction.

 

Babs carefully inspected it for a moment before she smirked. 

 

“Last years was prettier.” 

 

Jayce’s jaw dropped. 

 

“I can't believe you're getting picky on me,” he teased. 

 

Babs carefully approached the display above her mantle, where the other six flowers stood proudly in a perfectly balanced arrangement. She made room for the newest addition, placing it gently among its siblings.

 

“Can’t have you getting comfortable. I’m considering selling them and having a last hurrah before I kick it.” 

 

Jayce let out a laugh as he sat on her couch. “Oi,” he warned. “No death talk, remember?” 

 

“It’s not death I’m talking about,” she said as she finished adjusting her collection. She turned toward him, her face lit with vibrancy. “But life.” 

 

Babs gestured to the cluster of metallic flowers with a smug, self-satisfied tilt to her lips. “What do you think?” 

 

Jayce couldn’t help but grin. “Beautiful. I’m glad you like them.” 

 

She chuckled, her eyes twinkling as she lowered herself into her armchair.

 

“They're all the rage, you know?” She offered Jayce some tea alongside some zaunian biscuits, which he happily accepted. “My friends keep asking me where I bought them, and they never believe me when I tell them a dark, handsome, young man brings me a new one every year.”  She smirked before taking a sip from her cup. “They think I’m being wicked.”

 

“Who can blame them?” Jayce countered with an outstretched smile and a shake of his head. “Maybe one day you can introduce us, so they won’t think you’re lying or going mad.” 

 

Babs looked at him with unfiltered confusion. “My being mad is pointless bla-bla, but what could have possibly given you the impression that I don’t want them to think I’m lying?" She let out a suffocated, mirthful sound. "Imagine their consternation when you show up at my funeral.”

 

Jayce snorted, a crumb of cookie blasting off from his mouth. Babs grinned to herself. 

 

“You’re incorrigible.” 

 

“I enjoy keeping those sly rotters on their toes,” Babs snickered.

 

Jayce nodded in understanding. “Consider it done.” 

 

They spoke for a while, catching up on the past year. Babette told Jayce of her son’s whereabouts, of her newly adopted routines, and especially of her most recent mischiefs. Eventually, and to his surprise–considering she often forgot–, Babs asked him about his own life.

 

“Cait is doing great,” Jayce assured. “I have a very entertaining project in the works, which is always nice. And, well. Um.” Jayce couldn't hold it back for another second. “He's, uh–he's back.” 

 

Babs' eyes widened sharply, the paused silence heavy between them.

 

“Is he?”  Babs whispered, her voice full of disbelief. Her fingers gently lowered her cup, setting it down with a faint clink as she leaned in. Jayce simply nodded as a response to her question. 

 

She let out a breath. “That is most certainly unexpected.”

 

“Yeah.” 

 

She analysed his expression for a moment. 

 

“You alright, kiddo?” Babs asked with an edged quietness. Jayce dropped his gaze before lifting his hand to rub his temples. 

 

“I'm not sure.” 

 

Her voice softened. “Have you spoken?” 

 

“Not really,” he admitted. He sighed and returned her piercing stare. “Not about what matters, anyway.” 

 

“And what are you waiting for?” 

 

“It’s not so easy,” Jayce grimaced, massaging the back of his neck. “ Especially when the other person does not want to engage in that kind of conversation.” 

 

Babs pursed her lips. 

 

“Maybe you should stop asking for permission, boy.” 

 

Jayce gave her a broad smile. “Yes, I know that’s exactly how you would handle it.” 

 

“I mean it! Life’s too short. Let things decimate, sometimes it is the only way to rebuild. And if you lay waste to yourself in the process, then that’ll just be another thing you get to recreate from scratch.” She looked up at her mantle before giving him a tender smile, a hidden message interlacing its shape. “And we both know you can do that adequately.”  

 

Jayce snorted. 

 

“Adequate? That’s my grade for this year's gift?!” 

 

“And consider yourself lucky I said as much,” she said with an impish glow. 

 

Jayce harrumphed. 

 

“No wonder your friends think you’re off your rocker,” Jayce muttered before grabbing the piece of biscuit Babs had thrown his way, their laughter entwining in her living room. 

 

“What now?” Babs asked carefully after a short silence. 

 

“I have no idea,” Jayce confessed. He gave her an amused look. “Any other wise words to impart on your tall, dark, handsome, young, mystery man, Babs?” 

 

“I don't remember using so many adjectives,” she mused with a playful smile, prompting Jayce to snicker.   

 

Babs's gaze drifted, lost in thought as she scrambled for any helpful words to share, but Jayce was certain none would follow. He'd come to learn that her insights always seemed to arrive unbidden, her caring nature tampered if it was somehow prodded or expected by the receiving end.

 

“Men,” she finally scoffed. “Such useless creatures.” 

 

Jayce burst out laughing. 

 

“Great,” he chirped. “I feel renewed.” 

 

“I’m glad,” Babs quipped. Her attention drifted upward to the corners of the ceiling, and she perked up. “Now, be a dear and rid me of those webs, will you? Since you claim to be so tall and handsome.” 

 

Jayce shook his head with a smile and stood.

 

///

 

Viktor walked around his bed for ten minutes after his laptop died. He’d considered asking Jayce to bring him a new charger, but he did not want to be requesting things from Jayce. Besides, he was leaving tomorrow, which rendered the effort quite wasteful.

 

However, that also meant that he was left without anything to occupy his mind.

 

Viktor was tempted to leave his hole in the wall and inspect the rest of the apartment, but he was too drained to roam about. Laced with his fatigue was also an underlying discomfort at the mere thought of Jayce returning only to find him snooping. 

 

He wondered when that preoccupation had come to be, considering he had once sullied all of Jayce’s personal belongings with vicious Post-its without a single ounce of remorse. 

 

Sighing, Viktor settled back onto the bed and decided to engage in the different ideas churning in his mind. He worked through potential solutions to the latest obstacles in his research, sketching mental scripts and refining theories. Eventually, without the necessary tools to put those ideas to the test, he grew bored. 

 

He’d been eyeing Jayce’s computer for fifteen minutes before he reached for it. 

 

By the third password attempt– TalisJ123 –he was in. He’d definitely have to have a conversation with Talis about cybersecurity at some point. 

 

For the next hour, Viktor busied himself productively. He watched videos, scoured forums, and sketched out new approaches to implement the ideas rattling around in his head. It was the perfect distraction, a way to channel his restless energy.

 

When he finished, Viktor closed the browser tab unceremoniously, his gaze unintentionally landing on Jayce’s desktop. His eyes flicked to a folder in the top-left corner, standing conspicuously apart from everything else. It was labeled ‘dont’.

 

The title alone made his fingers twitch with curiosity.

 

This would be an invasion of privacy, Viktor reminded himself.

 

‘Don’t’? ‘Don’t’ what, though? He asked himself as his eyes roamed over the icon of the abandoned folder with a prickling interest.

 

He set the laptop aside, taking a deep breath to settle himself. Viktor did not want to betray Jayce’s trust, especially after everything he had been doing to help Viktor recover. 

 

A venomous voice drifted into his consciousness. 

 

What trust?, it asked, reminding Viktor that such a thing was part of the past.

 

Viktor heard the sound of a clock ticking in his head, each second pressing heavier against his resolve. The clicking tick-tocks filled up the void of a lingering moment that beckoned to his fingertips. 

 

Fuck it.

 

Viktor leaped to snatch the computer once more and double-clicked on the folder. 

 

Inside, a second folder greeted him: ‘think’.  

 

A strange pressure began to claw at his chest, pulling him in deeper. Viktor felt as if he’d been sucked into a rabbit hole without an escape plan. His fingers hovered with a slight tremble, hesitant over the new icon, before clicking again.

 

Still, another folder appeared:  ‘ don’t’

 

An anxious vine was coiling inside him. This felt too intimate, too personal, as though he were peeling back the layers to Jayce’s very soul. And yet, his wobbly fingers refused to pull away.

 

Viktor double-clicked anew. 

 

‘ Proof.’ 

 

The next folder stared back at him like an accusation. His heart had begun to race and his hands were cold and clammy, offering him an opportunity to retreat before more damage was done. 

 

Viktor tightened his grip on the laptop instead, deciding to rip off the bandage in one swift motion. 

 

Click - click.

 

Within, he found a single video file: VID_209876_45793.mp4 . 

 

The breath was ripped from his lungs, a familiar ache trampling him with the full force of the unexpected find. An icy ache gripped his chest as he took in the preview image. Viktor knew that room. The layout, the lighting– it was seared into his memory as permanently as the features on his own face. 

 

As he stared in a stupor, he finally recognised the second figure in the preview frame.

 

It was himself.

 

Viktor blinked. In a daze, his shaky fingers moved as if on autopilot. He opened the file.

 

The video slid into a new tab and began to play.

 

“ Okay, let’s see… Hey, future me! This is past you. This is the video for the Academy report, the speed-up thingy you wanted to do…”

 

Jayce’s voice drifted into the back of Viktor’s mind as he felt his muscles become completely paralysed. It was like watching a car crash in real time, except he was locked into experiencing it first-hand. All whilst being utterly powerless to save himself. 

 

Jayce looked so young. His hair was short and his face clean-shaven, not a single blemish or wrinkle in sight. His voice was leaner and so much more animated than it was today. The vibrancy in his eyes and the optimistic lightness in his posture–one that had been innately welcoming–struck Viktor like a merciless punch. His heart pounded, thudding against his ribcage like it was daring to flee. 

 

Tears blurred his vision as the emotions welled up inside him, signaling a possible eruption. He hadn’t seen this version of Jayce in so long, hadn’t let himself remember. Yet here he was. Staring at his moving image shattered the fragile barrier of time. Viktor wished he could reach through the screen and talk to those two people, warn them, beg them. 

 

For a moment, Viktor wondered if it was his fault. If it was because of him that that Jayce had ceased to exist.

 

Worst of all, he recognized the day. How could he not? 

 

His fingers shook as he skimmed through the six-hour video, his breaths shallow and uneven. Not long after, he found it. The moment. 

 

Viktor’s digits hurriedly paused the video, and the image laid out before him could have been painted by a God. Viktor’s throat painfully tightened, and a single tear slipped down his cheek, leaving a trail of devastating heartbreak in its wake. That was the second and only time Viktor was unable to keep that childish affliction from flowing out of him over Jayce Talis. His sniffling became deafening in the absence of anything else.  

 

Viktor had no idea how long he stared at that single frame, analysing it, memorising it, tasting it, reliving it, until the weight of it threatened to crush him. 

 

A door he'd bolted down and left to disintegrate over time within himself was unexpectedly creaking and wanting to go ajar. It shocked Viktor to find that it was not, in fact, deteriorated and forgotten as he’d once assumed– but in pristine condition, still. Waiting.

 

As if waking up from a stupor, Viktor jumped into action. His hands worked with methodical efficiency, finding a way to compress the file before sending it to himself, followed by deleting the sent email from Jayce’s account. He closed all of the different tabs and folders, powered off the laptop and set it exactly as Jayce had left it. 

 

Viktor curled onto his side, the lump in his throat swelling as he stubbornly caged the sobs desperately clawing for release. Another tear crept over the bridge of his nose and landed on the pillow with a faint plop .

 

The ache in his chest was unbearable, an all-consuming, unrelenting pressure that begged for release. Viktor would not let it.

 

By four-thirty P.M., desperation took hold.

 

Reaching for the bag of meds Sky had brought him, Viktor rummaged until his hand found a purple box. He let out a shaky sigh of relief.

 

He popped two edibles into his mouth and let sleep claim him.

 

///

 

By the time Viktor came to, he was starving. 

 

It was already dark out, and the weed had fulfilled its purpose. He was no longer in any kind of pain, simply felt heavy. 

 

And munchy. 

 

Without thinking much of it, Viktor grabbed his crutch and pulled himself up from the bed. There was a brief moment where the world seemed to want to tilt sideways, but he held firm.

 

For the first time since he'd woken up in this apartment, Viktor approached the door with a new intention, letting his fingers linger on the cool handle for a hesitant beat. Decided, he clicked it open and stepped into the hallway beyond.

 

It was quiet, but warm lights spilled onto the floor at the very end of the corridor.

 

Viktor followed the beacon until he emerged into a spacious living room. He halted immediately when three heads turned in his direction. 

 

“Oh.” Viktor shifted with the help of his crutch, feeling an uncontrollable smile begin to tug at the edge of his lips due to the uncomfortable situation. Weed loosened him immensely, so this was going to be an effort. “Hello.” 

 

Vi smiled at him and waved, as both Caitlyn and Jayce greeted him in turn. The guests were sitting on one of the couches that surrounded the coffee table, while Jayce occupied an armchair across from them.

 

“We were trying to be quiet, did we wake you?” Caitlyn asked, a slight concern in her tone. Viktor waved a hand dismissively. 

 

“None of that, I was just going…” Viktor stared into a fixed point for a moment. What was he going to do? “Um. Somewhere.” 

 

Jayce was frowning in his direction, a single brow of suspicion raising as he took Viktor in. He tried to ignore the man, but Viktor noticed that untimely laughter wanted to erupt from him at the sight of Jayce stepping into his detective skills. He pursed his lips to keep it reeled in. 

 

Viktor also came to find that engaging with Jayce’s face while he was wearing his contact lenses now felt wrong. It was as if Viktor were looking at a mask, the ‘outside’ Jayce. He didn’t like it one bit.

 

“Viktor?” Caitlyn asked. 

 

“Yes?” 

 

The three of them glanced at each other, sending awkward side-eyes as Viktor stood in place, watching them. 

 

“Did you hear me?” Caitlyn tried again. Viktor tilted his head. 

 

“Yes, I can hear you,” he confirmed. 

 

“No, before.” 

 

“Before when?” 

 

Both Vi and Jayce leaned forward in their seats, their deliberate lingers raking over Viktor’s face. Viktor found himself blushing at the sudden attention. 

 

“You feelin’ alright?” Murmured Jayce. “Cait asked you a question and you just stared into space.” 

 

“Oh, apologies,” he offered, the corners of his mouth uncontrollably kicking up. Viktor glanced around himself, finding nothing but the floor beneath him and a wall to his right. “I think I had a purpose and I seem to have lost it.” 

 

“Oh, my God!” Vi exclaimed, springing into a stand and pointing an accusatory finger at Viktor. “Look at his eyes! Are you fucking high right now?!” 

 

Viktor gaped at her before inevitably bursting into a giggle. 

 

Jayce’s head snapped in his direction at the sound that had just come out of his mouth. 

 

“Maybe?” Viktor answered back. 

 

Jayce covered his face with a hand and Caitlyn looked up to the heavens. 

 

It was easy to understand why a moment later.

 

“Well, don’t just stand there,” Vi reprimanded. A smirk unfurled on her face while a gleam of unadulterated delight coated her gaze. “Are you gonna offer us some or what?”

Notes:

TW: anxiety, meltdown, using recreational drugs

///

i was meant to write the hang-out in this chapter!! for some potential hahas!! but then I started blabbing and it got away from me so, no hahas today x)

The yeaaaaaarning yaaaaall, it's startiiiiiing

does the thing of seeing people clearer in your dreams happen to any of you as well? especially with people that are no longer in your life, that's a haunting experience.

i think the scene where babs and jayce meet for the first time might be a bit further down the road, but get ready yall D: shes relevant to the plot, unlike the others for now HAHA

next episode: high shennanigaaaaaaans!

As always, any feedback and/or overall opinion is not only welcome, but deeply appreciated <3

tooodalooooo!

Chapter 16: I have a proposition.

Summary:

People get high, everything is a little silly

Notes:

TW IN ENDNOTES

hiyaaa

guys this chapter was so silly to write hahah prepare for some stupid shi

also _ _ _ means same scene, change of POV because idgaf :D

Viktor should have guessed that Jayce would be a lightweight. 

 

He’d shared half a gummy with Caitlyn, and even she looked more composed than Talis, despite the difference in their body mass. 

 

Caitlyn lounged on the larger couch, her knees comfortably parted and her head lazily tilted back. Her arms were draped casually along the backrest and Vi’s head was comfortably resting on her lap, sporadic giggles coming from her every now and then. 

 

Viktor had claimed his spot on the second couch, stretching out horizontally to make himself as comfortable as possible.

 

Jayce, however.

 

He lay sprawled on the plush, pinkish rug, his back sinking into its softness as his legs rested lazily atop the empty armchair. 

 

“Do you guys–,” Jayce meditated once again, “–ever think about how choice is an illusion, most of the time?” 

 

“Ignore him,” Caitlyn begged. “Otherwise, he won’t stop.” 

 

“Hey!” He whined. 

 

“You're so pretty, cupcake,” Vi cut in. The adoration was evident in the tone, even though Viktor was staring at the ceiling. 

 

Caitlyn laughed. “So you've said.” The sound of several short kisses wafted through the air. 

 

"Viktor," Caitlyn called out with soft curiosity. "I've noticed you're not wearing your brace."

 

Viktor looked down at himself before he raised a brow. "Okay?" 

 

"I don't think I've ever seen you without it," she clarified.

 

Viktor hummed. "I don't usually wear it when I'm at–" He cut himself off. Recentered his thoughts. "When I'm on my own," he clarified. He gave a shrug for good measure.

 

"The more you know," she sighed as she let her head fall back again. She closed her eyes and Viktor followed suit.

 

There was another beat of quiet.

 

"Viktor has a piercing,” Jayce suddenly announced to the room. “Chew on that .” 

 

Vi let out a low whistle, her tone dripping with mock amazement. “Oh-ho, does he now?” 

 

Viktor felt a sudden surge of heat travel through his body, settling uncomfortably on his cheeks. His mind, hazy and slow, conjured an absurdly vivid scene: he’d cross the room with deliberate calm, silently stand on top of Jayce until he began to nervously squirm and then, Viktor would ruthlessly launch himself–elbow first–into the man’s chest like a wrestler delivering a dramatic K.O. The imagined choking sound coming out of Jayce tugged a faint and satisfied smile onto Viktor’s face.

 

“Yeah. Blew my mind,” Jayce added, none the wiser.

 

Oh?

 

“I knew he was a bad bitch.” He did not see Vi’s smirk, but he could perceive it nonetheless. 

 

“I'm right here,” Viktor reminded them with a drawl. 

 

“Trust me, it's hard to forget,” Jayce pointedly answered. 

 

“Maybe if you hadn't sequestered me in your house, you'd find it easier.” 

 

“But then, how else would I get my daily dose of incessant headache?”  

 

“You'd manage,” Viktor smiled lazily to the ceiling. “After all, you’re in your own company all day long. I’m sure that facilitates the process.” 

 

Jayce groaned, but there seemed to be an edge of joviality to it.  

 

“Have I ever mentioned how much I don't like you, Viktor?” 

 

“Several times,” Viktor assured light-heartedly. “Have I, Jayce?”

 

“Every damn day, baby," Jayce exhaled with exasperated ridicule.

 

“Is this what you guys do all day?” Caitlyn moaned with vivid frustration. Vi let out a cackle that Viktor hadn't realized she'd been suppressing. “Bicker like an old married couple until one of you snaps?” 

 

"Viktor is the snapper,” Jayce grumbled. Viktor blinked.

 

“How d– you’re the snapper. Always trying to boss me around, like a giant…–” Viktor was completely empty-minded. There was not a single word coming to his aid, which was a rare occurrence. “–pig fart,” he concluded.

 

Jayce laughed into the room and Vi snickered.  

 

“Lord, have mercy,” Caitlyn prayed under her breath. 

 

“I think sometimes you like it,” Jayce supplied, poking Viktor further. 

 

“It seems you've made an uneducated wish.” 

 

“Do you guys remember when we went to that sex party?” Vi interrupted out of nowhere, a mischief underlying her tone. 

 

“Oh, God,” Caitlyn groaned. Funnily enough, she sometimes sounded just like Jayce. Viktor glanced in their direction. 

 

“First time I ever saw you kiss a girl,” Vi smirked at Caitlyn. 

 

“I did it so you'd know,” she smiled in response. 

 

“It was hot as fuck,” Vi admitted, her voice low and warm, almost reverent. “I wanted you so badly, even then.” Caitlyn let out a huff of air and she smirked down at her partner. 

 

“Still took you long enough, though.” Caitlyn’s voice softened as she dipped her head anew, but Vi was already reaching for her, hand curling around the nape of her neck. She pulled Caitlyn down into a kiss, Vi’s smiling lips meeting Caitlyn’s with a playful intensity.

 

“You feel amazing,” she informed Caitlyn, who blushed as her gaze caressed Vi’s features. There was a promise of something more in that exchange between them, and Viktor was glad. That they’d found each other so wholeheartedly. 

 

Vi lingered on the moment, then broke the spell with a curious grin. “What did you guys get up to after we got separated?” She asked, cutting through the quiet and glancing between Jayce and Viktor. ‘You never told us what happened.’"

 

“Um,” Jayce let out after a quiet moment. “I honestly blacked out after taking the aphrodisiac.” 

 

Viktor's chest tightened with the ripple of a distant ache, yet his face remained utterly impassive.

 

Vi let out a laugh, her eyes sparkling with memory. “Oh, yeah! That shit was something else. What about you, Viktor? Had some fun of your own?” 

 

He feigned subtle consideration. “I remember seeing a lot of naked individuals," he admitted with a flat tone. "Other than that, everything is a blur." 

 

The lie slipped through his tongue effortlessly.

 

“Naked,” Jayce repeated to the room. “Naked, naked, nackety-naked. Na-ked. Isn't that the weirdest word?” 

 

“It's honestly lost its meaning now,” Caitlyn muttered. Then she giggled, “Naked.” 

 

“Naked,” Jayce whispered to himself.

 

“That’s gonna be you, later,” Vi told Caitlyn with a wiggle of her brows. Caitlyn’s eyes darted quickly to Jayce, who seemed to be softly murmuring to himself, and then she allowed her timid smile to spread on her cheeks. She flicked Vi’s nose.  

 

“I'm not sure I would do it again. The whole sex-club thing,” Caitlyn admitted eventually. “So many eyes on you at once.”

 

“Ah,” Violet chuckled. “They're harmless.” 

 

Viktor knew that tone immediately. 

 

“Tests of fire, huh?” 

 

Vi snickered. “Hey, don’t spill our secrets, man!” 

 

Caitlyn gasped. 

 

“What secrets?!” Her head bobbed between Viktor and Vi. “I demand to know.” 

 

“It’s no big deal,” Vi assured in a light tone. 

 

Caitlyn wasn’t having it, though. “Viktor, I’m sure you can be more forthcoming than that.” 

 

Viktor sighed. “They’re just an unspoken Zaunite custom subjected to people we’re interested in keeping around.” 

 

Caitlyn’s jaw dropped in disbelief, her eyes locking onto her partner with an insulted accusation.

 

“You were testing me?!”  

 

Vi's mouth broke into a half smile. “I'm sorry! I had to make sure you weren't an easy runner!” 

 

“And why would you think I was?” 

 

Vi laughed and gestured towards Viktor. “Vik, explain.” 

 

Viktor rolled his eyes at being the designated intermediary. 

 

“If I may,” Viktor injected. “In Zaun, you learn fairly quickly that there are certain people you can’t rely on for survival. Part of our… selection process involves putting those we’ve got an eye on in difficult circumstances. How they react is far more informative–and less time-consuming–than any conversation.” 

 

Vi snapped her fingers. “Bingo.” 

 

“That's fucked up,” Caitlyn offered. 

 

“But efficient,” Vi added, her tone unshaken. “We can't afford to entertain skittish babies.” 

 

Ah.

 

There it was, laid before them without their knowledge. A huge part of Viktor’s past with Jayce. 

 

Because Vi was speaking the truth. It had been the main reason why Viktor had never asked Jayce about his sexuality. He could tell Jayce was not ready to be honest, not even with himself. And Viktor, as much as it stung him at that time to be unable to indulge in such conversations, understood. 

 

It could be difficult to come to terms with, especially for those who only understood their sexuality later in life. Those first moments of realising you’re not the person you thought you were. The realisation that you are now part of a group of people who are ridiculed, and shamed, and killed for merely existing. Even though Viktor was personally and fiercely against any enslavement of the self, he could see why some would opt for it. 

 

But Viktor did not want any part of it, himself.

 

He refused to convince someone to look his way, to see him, to want him. Either they did, or they did not. And if there was confusion in the inbetweens, Viktor simply accepted that they did not and avoided all of the unnecessary back and forth. 

 

Of course, that had been slightly more complex with Jayce. Still, it worked. Somewhat. Mostly. 

 

“Jay-jay, what was the name of that guy you dated for a while?” Vi threw in Jayce’s direction, a broad smile on her face. 

 

Viktor wanted to laugh at the thought that Vi could have infiltrated his thoughts and was now mocking him for it. He wanted to poke fun at the ridiculous nickname, just the same.

 

“Mikel?” Jayce offered lightly.

 

There was a lingering numbness before Viktor’s stomach dropped. A heavy, leaden feeling, like a weight plummeting and free-falling from a twelve-story building.

 

“Oh, yeah,” Vi snickered. “I think he’s a regular there now.”

 

“I'm sure he's having the time of his life. We weren’t precisely dating, ” Jayce added with a tease. 

 

Caitlyn made a sound of disgust and Vi chortled. 

 

“Can we not–” Cait began.

 

“That’s my guy,” Vi said simultaneously. 

 

Voices and laughter drifted into the background as Viktor noted how this newly understood information collided with all of the previously suppressed conclusions inside his brain. 

 

Jayce was queer! 

 

It wasn't that Viktor hadn't... suspected. For a long variety of reasons. 

 

But eventually, he'd taken the confusing inbetweens and shoved them onto the other side of the spectrum for his own sanity. Convincing himself that Jayce was straight had made everything exponentially easier back then. 

 

Viktor remembered the confusion he’d experienced throughout those months he’d gotten to know Jayce. The deeply embedded shame and terror he’d unknowingly harbored at the thought that Jayce could perceive any advances towards him and feel revulsion. He had been so secretly terrified to do anything that might make him lose that unique connection that he had buried any part of himself that could potentially make Jayce look at Viktor any differently. 

 

Which, around straight people, Viktor had realised, included his sexuality. 

 

Of course, this is not something Viktor entertained anymore, let alone in his personal life. He refused to walk on eggshells around those with fragile identities, attempting to make it his problem. 

 

But for some reason, when he'd meet Jayce... Even though he saw a skittish person around certain topics, Jayce slithered his way through and became an exception in Viktor's life.

 

In order to protect them from potentially obliterating misunderstandings, they had left aside certain topics altogether, choosing to prioritise what was already there. With Jayce, Viktor had never needed anything else. 

 

Of course, that was until everything exploded in a single night. Only for everything to turn on its head.

 

Only to find out now that all that careful, at times painful, consideration had been for nothing.

 

Jayce was queer , now. Openly. Proudly. Indifferently, almost.

 

The truth settled into Viktor like a heavy stone sinking into unreachable depths. 

 

Viktor had an infinitude of questions, questions he was no longer interested in wondering about, let alone allowed to ask. 

 

Flashbacks of that night crossed his mind, as it often happened when Viktor wasn't fully sober. 

 

Somewhere in the background, the desire to cry surprised him enough to turn Viktor to stone. Whether it was from a past pain, vividly reminding him of his stupidity, or a validation for his past self, confirming what he'd so blatantly pushed down to ignore... He didn't know. Perhaps it was a wave of relief or a strain of begrudged audacity. 

 

The truth was, whatever the reason, he was unsure of anything beyond the existence of the impulse, mercilessly scratching at his throat. 

 

Why was it that Viktor only felt the urge to cry whenever Jayce Talis was involved? It was pathetic and he wanted to suffocate it for good.

 

Still, Viktor couldn’t help the thought from bubbling into his consciousness, either.

 

Why hadn’t Jayce liked him back?  

///

Jayce disappeared over a corridor beyond his front door to see his guests out, and Viktor took a moment to stand and inspect his surroundings. He glanced around, lulled by Jayce's tone drifting into the room from a far distance.

 

Next to the entrance, there was a marble counter that stretched to the right and divided the living room from the open kitchen. 

 

Jayce’s living room was spacious enough to host a small house party. Two couches lay out in the shape of an L, enclosing the centered coffee table and beyond, the small aquarium pressed against the wall. The armchair faced both sofas, a TV mounted on the wall behind it. There were shelves upon shelves of books and innumerable pieces of paper dangling from them, held at the edge of a precipice. 

 

Viktor roamed casually, curiosity nipping as he peeked into those shelves and pieces of paper. Diagrams, anagrams, equations, and endless mementos of intellectual unrest stared back at him. 

 

Under the sofas lay the soft rug Jayce had been lying on for the evening. It was plump and inviting. More stacks of books were piled on the floor, some sprawled open on top of each other, others clearly forgotten. There was an empty mug by the foot of the sofa. Viktor couldn't help but picture Jayce sitting on his luscious pink-ish rug, knee held to his chest, barefoot, studying his notes whilst chewing on a pen cap. 

 

A large bookcase divided the space. Behind it and facing the kitchen was a dinner table, also overflowing with documents, forgotten clothes draped on chairs and other types of clutter. Clearly, Jayce hadn’t had guests over in quite some time. 

 

Viktor took in the tall ceiling, the big windows that surrounded the entire large room. It felt open, almost freeing, and yet a little cold.

 

Viktor did not know what he was expecting, but this… All he could see was Jayce, everywhere.  

 

There was a room next to the kitchen, which Viktor imagined to be Jayce’s room.

 

Eventually, the voices began to dim and Viktor felt the need to return to his spot on the couch. 

 

When Jayce returned, he was carrying a couple of sandwiches.

 

“Oh, fuck yes,” breathed Viktor, taking the food with ravenous interest. “Did you walk them out and then stop by a deli?” 

 

“Yes.”

 

 _ _ _

 

Jayce sat down in the armchair facing Viktor, casually leaning his forearms on his knees and clasping his hands together before him– almost like an unconsciously arranged shield. He stared at them in thought, uncertain of how to broach the subject and not wanting to trigger any fresh friction between them. They had had a peaceful evening, and Jayce did not want to disrupt it. Quite the opposite.

 

Which made the need lurking within too potent to silence.

 

Viktor was completely engulfed in his meal, taking one big bite at a time and softly moaning as he diligently chewed, obviously famished. It relieved Jayce to see Viktor enjoy food at all. 

 

“I have a proposition,” Jayce announced after a quiet moment of settling down, his voice soft and sure of itself, despite his leg wobbling in place.  It was a habit he’d learned to tamper while sober, which was not the case at current time.

 

Viktor turned his head towards him slowly, cheeks rounded with food. He lifted a brow in inquiry.  

 

“I'm surprisingly… having fun,” Jayce went on. 

 

Viktor spoke through his mouthful. “Okay?” 

 

“Would you consider… taking another one?” Jayce studied Viktor’s expression for any sign of discomfort or potential fury itching to be unleashed. But no, all Jayce found were narrowed eyes pinned to his own.  Viktor swallowed.

 

“Just the two of us?” 

 

“Yeah.”

 

Viktor stared unabashedly, his eyes immobilised to his own. The thoughts rushing behind his pupils made Jayce wish he could step into Viktor’s mind. 

 

“With what purpose?” He finally inquired, a slow caution to his every word. 

 

“I'm not sure,” Jayce admitted. “But I'm curious to find out.” 

 

“You’re curious to find out,” Viktor repeated, and Jayce tilted his lips upwards at the constant suspicion of his intentions. He nodded. 

 

“If I do this,” Viktor said in a low voice, an explicative gesture with his hand towards Jayce. “Then I will no longer owe you one. For Jinx.” 

 

“Deal,” Jayce agreed confidently, his smile broadening on his face. He'd had something else in mind for that favour, but this somehow seemed just as important. 

 

Jayce extended his hand over the coffee table and Viktor stared at it for a moment before tentatively shaking it in turn. 

 

///

 

“Do you know one thing I am missing terribly while I've been here?”

 

Jayce and Viktor had taken their respective gummy, one each, and Jayce was beginning to feel the tingling of it. The only difference he saw in Viktor was that he was voicing whatever thoughts crossed his mind without much filter, which Jayce quite liked. 

 

“What’s that?” Jayce encouraged, a quiet satisfaction unfurling in his chest upon seeing Viktor engage in conversation, of his own accord, without any of the usual hatred lacing his tone.

 

“My slippers,” Viktor grumbled.

 

Jayce stared at him from the floor with a flicker of amusement. 

 

“Knowing you, there must be several excruciatingly specific reasons for that to be the case, so do elaborate.” 

 

Jayce stilled for a moment, worried he might have said something to trigger an unpleasant reaction.

 

Viktor did not seem to share that concern. “I don’t want to walk around with uncomfortable outside shoes, but going barefoot becomes horrid if dirt gets encrusted in my sole. But then, walking with socks on is just as overwhelming– it's as if my feet are claustrophobically contained. I’m in a nightmare of my own making.” 

 

Jayce gave him a low hum before he decisively stood. He went into his office, the room adjacent to the one Viktor was sleeping in, grabbed them, and returned to the hallway. He spoke before emerging into the living room.

 

“Okay, close your eyes,” he called out with a broad smile. 

 

“Why?” 

 

“Just, do it. I need you to keep an open mind.” 

 

A pause.

 

“Should I be concerned? That sounds like the perfect premise to elicit concern.” 

 

“Are your eyes closed or not?!”

 

“Yes, you niggling oaf.” 

 

Jayce walked in and placed the barely worn shoes in front of Viktor. 

 

“Promise me you’ll try them before saying no.” 

 

“I make no such promises.” 

 

“Come on! Just trust me.” 

 

There was a tense silence. Jayce realized he’d unknowingly just shoved Viktor into the edge of a precipice and asked him to pay no mind to the mortal drop. 

 

He anxiously waited for the expected disarray, staring at how Viktor's lips turned into a straight line.

 

“Can I open my eyes, or not?” He asked instead, annoyance flaring in his tone.

 

Jayce silently released a tight breath. “Okay, yes.”

 

Amber retinas came into focus on the footwear before him. And then Viktor’s mouth slowly fell open. 

 

“I know, I know,” Jayce chuckled nervously. “But they’re incredibly comfortable, I promise!” 

 

“Are these… Crocs? ” Viktor let out, completely aghast despite the glee coating the sparkle in his eyes. Jayce was laughing and Viktor waved his hands between the two of them, shaking his head slightly. “No, wait, let me rephrase that. Not only did you bring me Crocs, but… Is that a car- shaped croc ?!” 

 

Jayce gasped.

 

“You don’t know Lightning McQueen?!”

 

He raised a brow. “Am I meant to?” 

 

“Viktor, that is just absolutely despicable.” 

 

“You know what’s despicable?” Viktor asked as he picked one of the shoes between two digits, keeping as much separation as he could in order to avoid unnecessary contact of skin against rubber. He lifted the shoe ceremoniously between them, the wear comically dangling between his fingers, which prompted a sharp laugh to escape from Jayce's throat. “This is the most atrocious item I’ve ever laid my eyes upon.” 

 

“Wait until you try it,” Jayce smirked. 

 

“Are you out of your mind?” Viktor released an amused huff. He let the shoe flop on the floor, the loud slap reverberating between them. Viktor frowned in Jayce’s direction, but there was a small tilt to his lips. “Do I look like someone with nothing left to live for? No scrap of self-respect left to claim?”

 

Jayce snickered. “Nobody will see you, it’s just us.” 

 

“I will see myself .” 

 

But despite the vicious slander on Jayce’s crocs, Viktor slowly slipped his feet into the shoes with a comical grimace.

 

“I’m doing this for scientific purposes only,” he clarified to Jayce, who was beaming with anticipation. He wanted to avoid saying anything that would deter Viktor from doing exactly what he was about to do. 

 

Jayce took a step back and rolled the coffee table away from Viktor, clearing enough space for him to comfortably stand. 

 

“Go for a spin,” Jayce choked, trying to keep his newly emerging, genuine laughter inside. It was a failed attempt once he saw Viktor’s deadpan expression. 

 

“To think I had seven years of blissful peace before this,” he muttered as he rose, the steady crutch by his side at the ready. 

 

Viktor was wearing lounge pants that looked impossibly comfy, the kind you’d want to sink into after a long day. They draped loosely over his legs, scrunching up at the ankles. Viktor had put on a tight, white t-shirt, partially covered by a long cardigan that only added to the softness of his attire. 

 

He looked so... cosy.

 

And as Jayce’s eyes traveled downward, the crocs came into view. Bright red, with yellow lightning bolts streaking on each side, wide eyes and a smiling mouth on the front. They were truly a horrendous crime of fashion.

 

“Huh,” Viktor mused as he roamed back and forth. His expression had softened, and there seemed to be a quiet tilt to his brows. Jayce smirked. 

 

“I know, right?”

 

“Regardless of comfort, I still can’t believe you made the conscious decision to purchase these. Were you in your right mind at all?" Viktor gave him a look that transported Jayce back to his youth, to a much simpler time. His stomach tightened at the recognition. "Perhaps your expenses should be supervised.” 

 

Jayce smiled. Viktor looked so silly in them, it brought him a sparkling joy to witness it.

 

“I will confess, they were a gift.”

 

Viktor continued to stroll, his eyes pinned to his feet. 

 

“Let me guess,” he offered with some amusement. “Caitlyn.” 

 

Jayce kept his smile as he stared at Viktor’s feet. 

 

“She does have a peculiar taste. But these ones were from Vi.” 

 

The corners of Viktor’s mouth tugged upwards as he kept his focused peer on the hideous slippers. 

 

“Interesting,” he deliberated. After a moment, his eyes snapped to Jayce’s and there was a glint of mischievousness coating them. “Were they behind the avocado boxers, as well? Or can we finally attribute that despicable choice to you?” 

 

Jayce felt his cheeks burn, as well as his nape. 

 

“‘M glad you noticed.” He wore a practiced, playful grin, hiding his–surprisingly genuine–timidness behind some cheeky confidence. “And those were Cait.” 

 

Viktor returned to the sofa and folded his knees before him, wrapping himself into a tiny cocoon of warmth. He blinked in Jayce’s direction and decided to ignore the first bit altogether.

 

“Those two seem to have a strange fixation with inanimate objects wearing concerning expressions. Maybe it should be addressed. Check on their well-being.” 

 

Viktor left the crocs on the floor, but did not encourage Jayce to remove them from his vicinity. Jayce smiled to himself and plopped down onto the fluffy carpet once more. 

 

The moment Jayce took a deep breath, he felt the drugs kick in with a mighty force. The room blurred slightly and his head was begging to float away, so he simply closed his eyes in the hopes of aiding it to pass. 

 

They were quiet for some time and Jayce’s thoughts began to work at ten times the speed he was accustomed to. Instead of having two trains of thought, he was simultaneously attempting to entertain seven– one of which was simply a line from a catchy song agonisingly looping in his brain, of course. It was extremely overwhelming and his heart was beating frantically in his chest, each thump a clear protest. 

 

“Feeling good?” Viktor murmured, his voice like gravel shifting under moving wheels.

 

“So many thoughts,” Jayce tightly responded back.

 

“Overstimulating?” 

 

“Yes,” he rasped.

 

“Would you like to verbalise one of them? I hear that helps.” 

 

Jayce was surprised by the invitation, not expecting Viktor to want to engage more than they already had. 

 

Jayce was coming to realize that they had been playing a dangerous game. Their connection became ridiculously effortless when there was no anger, and the semi-truce they’d agreed upon removed many of those abrasive obstacles. 

 

Without the destructive wrath, they were simply… Themselves. 

 

And there was something utterly terrifying underneath that understanding. If he allowed himself to be free around Viktor again, if he stepped further into this proposition, what was to keep him from falling down the rabbit hole? Or from fucking up? How was he going to cope with Viktor leaving again if he managed to enjoy his company? Was there a version of himself that could survive such a wound not once, but twice?  

 

Still, hearing his silly giggle today had been like a kick to the groin, if those could be simultaneously enjoyable. It had shaken his entire core, and something inside him was frenzied for more. For more of his thoughts, more of his points of view, more of that ridiculous sound coming out of his mouth, God.  

 

He didn’t know if the opportunity would arise again. Viktor seemed to be in a parallel trance of neutrality and Jayce had no idea how long it would last. 

 

So he decided right then and there to allow himself this night, even if to say goodbye to what once had been. Even if to merely experience the freedom of being himself without repression around Viktor one last time. One healing night for the both of them. Hurts and disdains set aside, for one single moment of respite. 

 

He wanted to remember. He was desperate to remember why Viktor and Jayce had been so effortlessly pulled to one another. He needed any further proof he could find.

 

Jayce craved to confirm for himself that it hadn’t been solely in his head– their connection. 

 

Or whether there was any pulse left within the grave. 

 

So, with one last breath, he let go of all inhibitions. All filters, out the window. He was going to exist, and whatever came of it would be its own form of answer. 

 

That fucking song on a loop was driving him insane. 

 

“Can’t pick. Too… many…” Jayce ground out. 

 

“Would you prefer silence?” 

 

“No,” he quickly corrected. “You go.” 

 

“Hm.” Jayce heard the sound of clothes shuffling. “Well, I’d say I have to disagree with you on the whole choice being an illusion thing.” 

 

Jayce felt a jolt of surprise, considering that comment had been uttered at the beginning of the evening. 

 

“Go on.” 

 

“Well, in reality, isn’t choice the only thing we actually own? Of course, it exists within parameters of reality, even if those parameters can also be human-made. But at the end of the day, many rules are self-imposed. Whether due to fear or anything else, I think they would still constitute a choice.”

 

There was a flicker of pain in his chest. 

 

Jayce focused on the obvious stance before him, steering away from any intrusive thoughts. 

 

“But in order to have a choice, one must have accessibility first, right? Can a choice truly be considered as such if there’s no real understanding of the multitude of options before us?"

 

Then he strayed further, avoiding the possibility of double entendres at all costs. One night, they had one night. He was going to make the most of it. "Aren't we constantly being coerced under the guise of an ill-defined proclamation of freedom? Our variety, controlled and unequivocally poisonous in comparison to what could be? We’ve created a societal simulation, baptised it reality , and now every so-called choice can only exist within those lines of obligated truth.”

 

Jayce felt immediate relief that with the help of someone else, he could more easily attempt to focus on one topic at a time. His words had come easily once he'd sharpened his attention, and it made him wish he could express himself so diligently while sober. 

 

Viktor hummed. “We might be discussing different things, because you’re not wrong. Give me an example of what you had in mind.” 

 

“Labour. Income. Health and pharmaceuticals. Bureaucracy. Consumption. Hell, the entire system. Can we confidently state that we have free choice if we're constantly under threat of homelessness, starvation, or communal rejection? How can there be choice if we’re still forcing people to survive a life based on the detrimental pursuit of their basic needs? It’s all an illusion at the cost of every living thing. Wouldn’t true choice constitute building a different simulation of reality, instead of surrendering to whatever is accessible within this violent one, built to profit the few, and proudly call it self-determination? I truly cannot wrap my head around it.” 

 

Jayce blurted out one thought after the other, stirred on by Viktor's tranquility. 

 

“Ah.” Jayce could hear the surprised smile in Viktor’s voice. “I see, now. Yes. I have the suspicion you have more to say. Please, continue.” 

 

And so they talked. 

 

They talked, and talked, and talked. 

 

It was glorious.

 

In time, they descended into fascinating topics within philosophy, astronomy, science, recent research, sociology, mathematics, physics. They discussed world events as much as they delved into trivial information, all with an underlying comfort that kept growing with every broached subject. They delved into safe, ethical debates only to come out the other end arguing whether or not the color yellow was pleasant to the eye. 

 

“Tell me you don’t pity SpongeBob for having to look in the mirror only to find that sickly color staring back,” Viktor offered.

 

“Woah. That sounds like discrimination to me.”

 

“You… dare.”

 

“How can you know SpongeBob but not Lightning McQueen?!” 

 

“Your judgment is palpable and I reject it.”

 

“Fine, how about…”

 

After searching for an infiitude of examples, the mutual conclusion was that it clearly depended on the tone of yellow. That back-and-forth alone stretched for forty-five minutes. 

 

Unaware of the passing of time, they chatted through the entire night, a faint chuckle here and there. Whenever Jayce perceived that dawn was approaching, he rose to slide the curtains shut. He wanted to remain in the bubble of this moment for as long as he possibly could. 

 

Neither of them mentioned any topics that might cause friction, and neither of them addressed the profound wounds they’d ripped open in each other. 

 

It was no surprise to Jayce to find that having Viktor’s undivided attention was just as intoxicating as it had once been. He wanted to be irritated over it, but he couldn’t help give himself over to that spectacular sensation. 

 

Nothing had ever felt like this. Despite the deviation into silly topics, Jayce felt seen. He felt matched. 

 

In his entire existence, he could not pinpoint a single interaction that could remotely come close to that. Jayce could wholeheartedly share parts of himself with many different people, it was the easiest way to connect successfully. But his whole being? Every shared part of himself embraced and returned in double? It was no wonder Viktor had created such a gaping hole in his life, Jayce could understand it now more than ever.

 

He shouldn’t be surprised that their conversations came so organically, even after all of these years and the amount of harm they’d caused each other. Harm they hadn’t even discussed. 

 

Maybe that’s why it felt easy. Because they seemed to be repressing everything that was not.

 

And still, Viktor reminded Jayce of sides to him that had been utterly forgotten over the last seven years, and yet brimmed with life in this room. With this person. 

 

His company made Jayce feel… Like his most genuine self. 

 

But there lay the core of his fears. 

 

Because it was obvious now that if Viktor had felt but a tenth of what Jayce did, he would have stayed. The act of leaving on its own was answer enough, considering Jayce could not have possibly imagined separating from his friend back then. It simply would not have been in the cards.

 

Who knows, perhaps Viktor was simply phenomenal at conversation and Jayce had attributed it to something special between them. Maybe it was Jayce who could not keep up with Viktor, and he didn’t know it. 

 

At some point, Jayce noticed Viktor seemed to be dozing off, so he grabbed a blanket he’d tucked in the storage space under his couch. By the time he stood to drape it over Viktor’s frame, he was awake and intently staring at him. He held out his hand and Jayce passed it to him silently. 

 

“Thank you,” Viktor murmured, the tiredness creeping into his eyes. “Do you sleep here often?” 

 

“On the couch? No, not really. Only recently.” 

 

Viktor wrapped the puffy, soft blanket around his shoulders, and the rest pooled in his lap. 

 

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?” He asked absent-mindedly, still adjusting the fabric around his body.

 

Jayce chuckled. “It seems my room is currently occupied.” 

 

Viktor raised his head slowly, and Jayce wanted to laugh at the thoughts loading behind Viktor’s otherwise vacant gaze. Then his eyes widened. 

 

“Jayce."

 

“Viktor.” 

 

“Have I been sleeping in your room?!” 

 

Jayce cocked his head and watched Viktor with a smile.

 

“Of course. Where else did you think you were?”

 

“I don’t know!” Viktor replied in a quiet panic, now bright-eyed and alert. Jayce shook his head and returned to his spot on the floor. “I thought I was in a guest bedroom! You’ve been sleeping on your couch this whole time?!” 

 

“Is this something that I can use for leverage in the future?” He wondered, with a slight tease. “Because if so, I can pretend it’s a big deal.” 

 

A small sound of amusement came out of Viktor. He remained still for a moment. 

 

“Please, stop being funny,” he solemnly requested. “It's extremely annoying.” 

 

Jayce smiled at the ceiling.

 

“I thought you said I was only slightly funny,” he quipped back. 

 

Viktor let out a huff of air.

 

“I can't believe you remember that.”

 

There was a heavy pause.

 

“I remember many things,” Jayce said softly. 

 

He was met with a deafening silence, which caused his mouth to dry. His heart had begun to gallop in his chest once more, knowing what he was about to say might very well ruin the entire evening. 

 

But he just couldn’t help himself, could he?

 

“Don't you?” 

 

“Jayce,” Viktor cautioned. Jayce sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes. 

 

“We don't need to repeat history,” Jayce conceded quietly. “But don't you think we could at least benefit from one last conversation?” 

 

A thrumming quietness filled the room, and Jayce was too afraid to sit up and face his former lab partner. Too afraid to discover if he had just set a bomb between them. Too terrified to find whether or not he could retract his statement. 

 

He’d just wanted one night with his long-lost friend, and he just had to open his big, stupid mouth. 

 

“I can’t,” Viktor confessed in a small voice. “I’m not ready.”

 

Surprise flooded him. Of all of the things he’d been expecting Viktor to say, he would have never foreseen that one. 

 

He’d been prepared to hear snapping arguments, to hear Viktor walking away and hiding in his room. He’d been prepared for insults, for feeling humiliated for even trying. 

 

But the softness in Viktor’s voice, the vulnerability within it… It was new. And that alone made Jayce want to leap into the air and hug the moon. 

 

“Okay.” Jayce rubbed his temples for a moment. “Okay,” he repeated, with more self-assurance. “I can wait.” 

 

Truth be told, Jayce was starting to come to terms with the fact that that’s what he’d been doing all along, regardless. As if some part of him had been frozen seven years ago, and just left to wait. To wonder. To replay. To wish. Wait, wait, and then, wait some more, for anything– anything at all.

 

Waiting was the only aspect he’d known as a constant in all of this. 

 

And if holding steady and giving Viktor his space was what was needed now for the closure, he’d do it. As long as he knew Viktor would eventually come back to him for it, he’d wait a lifetime for that final exchange. 

 

“Everything from that time is locked in a vault and if I open it, I suspect it will swallow me whole.” 

 

Shock filtered Jayce’s system again at the confession laid out before him. Offered freely and quietly, like a secret meant to be kept within the confines of this room. Jayce’s nape had gone tight, and his hands had turned sweaty.

 

Jayce did not know what to say or how to act. The skittish cat could turn feral, and that’s the last thing he wanted. Come to think of it, Jayce couldn’t even believe he was so invested in having that conversation at all. Jayce from six months ago would be in complete shock at the prospect of this talk even existing. Especially hearing Viktor considering it. 

 

Jayce took a deep breath. 

 

Selfishly, discovering that Viktor did have some unresolved feelings about their parting gave Jayce a huge wave of relief. 

 

He wasn’t fully alone. 

 

It seemed that in the hurry for survival, Viktor had had to postpone what Jayce could not. Everything Jayce had been struggling with in his day-to-day life in regards to their separation–every pain, every ache, every single ounce of despair–he’d assumed Viktor had not had to resolve. He’d assumed that anguish had been one-sided. 

 

Now he wondered if Viktor had merely set his aside for another day, up to today and still counting. 

 

And that clarification broke something inside him. It was two-sided: an anger about the unfairness of having had to suffer when the other person, seemingly, had not. 

 

But concurrently, he softened at the thought that perhaps in a single act, he’d caused too much pain to be dealt with altogether. Regardless of Viktor’s personal understanding of their connection, that could remain a fact. 

 

“Well, I'm here,” Jayce offered tenderly. “Maybe we can be swollen together.” 

 

There was an unexpected, awkward pause. Viktor began to snicker. 

 

Jayce realized what he'd just alluded to and covered his eyes with the nook of his elbow.

 

“You're the worst,” Jayce said, laughing to himself. 

 

“You want us to be swollen together?” 

 

Viktor’s amusement continued to rise, to the point that Jayce felt the urge to sit up. He wanted to see. His brain was hopeless to match an image to that sound. 

 

Viktor had his head tilted back and was laughing on his own, engulfing sounds of joy swarming the living room. From this angle, he could see the slight gap in Viktor’s smile, nestled between his canine and his premolar. The line cascaded down his jaw line, only to climb through his Adam's apple, and beautifully dip again to finally merge with his neck.

 

It was the same. The picture before Jayce could have perfectly been from a lifetime ago, unchanged and just as striking.

 

God, how he'd missed that wicked song. 

 

And it was right there. In front of him. Alive. He was living it. He wanted to drink it and feel the waves of its warmth fill him from the inside out. 

 

His eyes began to water.

 

Jayce had dreamt of that sound for years. And now, it was laid out before him– the most unanticipated of gifts.

 

The backs and forths in his mind were definitely alarming. 

 

Viktor was an intrinsically beautiful human being, especially when he let go. The certainty of such a statement crushed Jayce enough that he felt the need to draw breath.

 

There was an awareness in the back of his mind, one that accused him of betrayal for letting those opinions be voiced in the first place. But after shedding his filters at the start of the evening, Jayce was now at the mercy of truth bubbling to the surface without any barriers to keep it at bay. 

 

Inevitably, Jayce began to laugh with him, his body enchanted and eager to join in. With each ripple, the stressful thoughts shook away from him. 

 

He reminded himself once again that they were here for one night, and that was more than enough. 

 

“Pervert,” Jayce threw his way before leaning his back against the rug, letting himself settle.

 

“Saint,” Viktor spat back. 

 

“Oh, is that what you think?” 

 

Viktor snorted. “Unless you're a completely different person, yes.” 

 

“Maybe you'd be surprised by the things I've gotten up to.” 

 

Viktor scoffed. 

 

“Like having sex with men ?” Viktor teased, the mocking tone grating on the inside of Jayce’s skull. 

 

“Among other things.” 

 

There was a pause, and Jayce hoped that it would stretch. Right about when he was accepting that the conversation would go no further, Viktor proved him wrong.

 

“And? What's the verdict?” 

 

Jayce genuinely considered for a moment. 

 

“I'm not sure. I seem to be quite specific about the kind of men I feel attracted to.” 

 

“What are those usually like?” 

 

Oof.

 

“Look who's suddenly interested in my sex life.” 

 

Viktor snickered. 

 

“Can you blame me? I can't… picture you with a man.” 

 

“Good to know that's what you're picturing,” Jayce said nonchalantly.

 

“Oh, fuck off. Like you haven't seen me ride Silco in your head.” 

 

There was a tense silence. 

 

He hadn't. 

 

Now, he was. 

 

Jayce slowly turned towards Viktor. 

 

“Viktor,” he said in a semi-state of shock. The evil creature in his living room was smirking. 

 

“What? Now that I finally have confirmation that you're queer, I don't have to filter myself anymore.” 

 

Jayce’s eyes expanded, and he lifted his weight onto his elbows, facing Viktor more efficiently. 

 

“Sweet mother of God. You've been filtered this whole time?!”

 

Viktor’s smirk widened. “You're starting to get the full picture.” 

 

“I didn’t even know you were capable of such a thing,” he confessed with a tease.

 

Viktor launched a cushion in his direction, eliciting another laugh out of Jayce as he grabbed the pillow midair and plopped down onto the rug, anew. 

 

“If we were to start listing what you’re clueless about, I’m afraid we’d never leave.” 

 

Jayce snickered. He let the quiet settle between them before he jokingly ventured, “So, should I expect a much more sexually charged version of yourself to come to the forefront, now?” 

 

Viktor snorted. 

 

“Is that an invitation, Dr. Talis?” 

 

And despite knowing that Viktor was in a mocking mood, his make-believe sultry voice gently guided Jayce’s bloodstream straight into his cock, which he resented immediately. 

 

Jayce had never heard that tone, jokingly or otherwise, come out of Viktor .

 

He blinked, giving his system a chance to reboot.

 

Jayce opened his mouth to speak. 

 

Knock Knock Knock

 

Both Jayce and Viktor jolted at the rough sounds coming from the front door, straightening their spines before staring at each other in utter paralysis. 

 

“Enforcers! Open up!” 

Notes:

TW:internalised homophobia, recreational drug use

///

Be responsible with yalls gummies!!

LIGHTNING MQUEEN CROCS EXIST, GOOGLE THAT SHIT 😂

MORE ANGST TO COOOOOMEE we're not done bishes 8) but we gettin close fam to knowing wtf happened between these two, in case you're not experiencing the good kind of suffering HAHA

my precious boys :')

Have any of you guys also felt as strongly with one of your friends? Like platonically being like my dude my life is shit without you and not because it's shit but bc you're so amazing

jayce:gets flustered
jayce's defense mechanism:aggressive flirt back
HAHAHA

imagine meeting your old friend and suddenly theyre gay af and youre like??? why werent you gay with me??? :(!!

Hope you guys are enjoying the movie even though so much fluffy scenes are going on. Plot soon! promise HAHA

As always, any feedback and/or overall opinion is not only welcome, but deeply appreciated <3

tooodalooooo!

Chapter 17: And what if I don’t want to be touched by you?

Summary:

Enforcers have questions. Viktor and Jayce have a chat.

Notes:

TW IN ENDNOTES

Henlo my beautiesssss!

a lot of feelings in this one.. sorry if its messy, i didnt know how else to write it, I was confused myself x)

Thank you to every single commenter. You guys literally are like 85 percent of the fuel to my motivation, and even though theres absolutely no expectation on my end, im so grateful to read your thoughts every single time. Hope you dont get tired of hearing me say that.

Jayce opened the door to find two enforcers standing rigidly in their dark blue uniforms. Their presence shifted the atmosphere, a quiet tension settling over the threshold.

 

“Good morning, enforcers. How can I help you?”

 

“Jayce Talis?” The man with a mustache spoke, his sharp gaze fixed on Jayce’s face.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Markus. I work for the sheriff,” he offered as a form of introduction. He gestured broadly to the enforcer beside him. “This is my partner, Steb.” The thinner man gave a curt nod, which Jayce cautiously mirrored. “We have a few sensitive questions to ask. May we come in?”

 

Jayce’s fingers tightened around the doorknob, unease prickling up his arm and whispering with a warning. He cocked his head slightly. “What is this regarding?”

 

Markus’s expression hardened. “Let us inside, and we’ll explain.”

 

A thread of doubt wound itself tightly around Jayce’s mind, but after a moment’s hesitation, he stepped aside. The last thing he needed was any trouble, and the easiest way to avoid that had always been to cooperate– even as the sharp discomfort provoked by his clenched teeth protested on the matter.

 

The enforcers crossed the threshold, boots leaving faint trails of dirt on his floor. Jayce’s gut twisted at the sight.

 

Their wandering eyes scanned the open room, inadvertently scrutinizing Jayce's personal space, casually picking apart every detail around them until their attention landed on the man in the room.

 

Viktor stood near one of the couches, his posture deceptively relaxed as he allowed them to take him in, though the sharpness in his regard was not lost on Jayce. An outsider would not have been able to tell, but Jayce sensed Viktor analysing their every movement, right back.

 

“And who might you be?” Markus asked, his tone curious and collected. 

 

Jayce opened his mouth to respond, but Viktor spoke first, his voice bored. “Viktor Jedlitzka.”

 

Markus’s eyes widened slightly before narrowing. His demeanor shifted, something new creeping into his tone. “Is that so?” A mocking edge laced his words, as though he’d uncovered a secret. “How convenient.”

 

Jayce felt a new flicker of unease prickle in his chest. “Come, enforcer,” he interjected, his voice firm yet inviting. “Let’s discuss this in the dining room and leave my guest to his own affairs.”

 

Markus didn’t budge. “Actually,” he said, cutting Jayce off with a sliver of arrogance. “Dr. Jedlitzka is precisely the other individual we’ve been looking for. He’ll join us.”

 

Viktor tilted his head ever-so-slightly, and that cold calculation in his regard made the hairs in Jayce’s arm stand to attention. With elegant confidence, Viktor strode in their direction with the aid of his crutch. 

 

I wanted this to also work as an accessory– something that blends in when you want it to but is equally ready to make a statement if you need it to.

 

Jayce's own words bubbled into his mind as he stared at Viktor approaching. 

 

A statement, indeed. 

 

The crutch was lean, angular, and as Viktor wielded it in this exact instant, casually imposing. Jayce wasn't particularly certain of how Viktor managed to shift his aura so expeditiously, or how he could swiftly use whatever was within his reach to convey an unspoken message. Jayce’s mind, as if forgetting that the person he was regarding was Viktor, warned him of a perceived sense of dangerous unpredictability.

 

The sight sent a shiver down Jayce's spine.

 

Yet, something about the scene felt... off. 

 

Jayce raked his eyes over Viktor’s posture, and as Viktor’s frame came into full view, Jayce’s gaze immediately dropped to the bright red slippers. He had to purse his lips and quickly look away in order to keep his composure.

 

Watching Viktor walk towards an impertinent enforcer with nothing but unyielding self-assurance, only to have Lightning McQueen crocs on his feet, was a sight Jayce would never forget. Those shoes could not chip away at his character.

 

His rubbery steps were the only sound echoing in the room.

 

Both enforcers gave Viktor’s footwear a brief glance before they exchanged a quick side-eye, a silent commentary that Jayce was unfortunately not privy to. 

 

Viktor, however, was utterly unbothered. 

 

Jayce was stunned to realize that he found the whole ordeal inexplicably… hot.

 

Viktor walked past them with practiced indifference, heading straight for the dining table, where he lowered himself into a chair with quiet authority. Then, his expectant glare met the three men who were stupefied in place, slightly puzzled stares meeting Viktor’s in turn. Jayce's lips twitched.

 

With a blink, Jayce opened his arm as a form of proposition, which prompted the two enforcers to shuffle in Viktor’s direction. They stood on the opposite side of the table, while Jayce rounded the furniture to settle himself behind Viktor. 

 

“New evidence has been uncovered regarding the explosion at the Piltover Academy of Science,” Markus began with a clipped tone. Beside him, Steb stood poised and silent, his sharp gaze flicking between Viktor and Jayce.

 

Viktor’s brow furrowed at the revealed information. Jayce kept his focus on Markus, studying the enforcer’s posture for any further tells of their presumed implication.

 

“I didn’t know there was an ongoing investigation,” Jayce offered in a calm tone. “Last we heard, it was ruled a gas leak.” 

 

“That was the original assumption, yes." Markus reached into his coat and took out a slim folder, carefully sliding it across the table. Viktor's head dipped as he followed the movement. “However, we now have reason to believe the explosion might have originated elsewhere.” He jerked his chin towards the folder now waiting in front of Viktor. “This device was found in the vents of the laboratory adjacent to your own. Do you recognise it?” 

 

Viktor hesitated before reaching for the folder, his fingers brushing over the edge. Tentatively, he peeled it open and Jayce’s eyes fell onto the contents within. 

 

Staring back at them were photos of a wrecked contraption, pieces barely held together in a poor attempt at reconstruction. The object appeared to be a box of some sort. 

 

On the metal panels, there were faint remnants of drawings, toothed creatures painted in neon colors that were now darkened and split open by the explosion. 

 

Jayce recognised them immediately. 

 

He swallowed hard, making an astronomical effort to avoid glancing towards Viktor. 

 

Carefully, Jayce leaned around Viktor and reached tentatively towards the top photograph.  He didn't miss the way Viktor's shoulders tensed when Jayce brushed lightly against his back.

 

It was strange to witness how a natural act that used to bring comfort had now turned acidic between them.

 

Jayce held his breath as he moved lightly to the side, sliding the image to reveal the others underneath. It was the same device, captured from a series of angles, each image presenting another shattered piece.

 

They also showed different perspectives of the cutesy little monsters painted on scraps.

 

“What is this?” Jayce asked, his voice consciously measured as he turned to the enforcers. Markus and Steb were watching them intently, their gazes sharp and unyielding.

 

“Answer the question,” Markus said coldly. “Have you seen this before?”

 

Viktor lifted his gaze then.

 

“No,” he replied quietly, his lips tilting downward in a subtle frown, his head shaking with convincing ignorance. 

 

Markus’s eyes narrowed. “Are you certain? These patterns–” he tapped the neon designs on the picture with two fingers, “–don’t seem familiar to you?”

 

Jayce opened his mouth.

 

“No,” Viktor repeated evenly. “Never seen anything like it before.” 

 

For all Jayce knew about Viktor–the subtle inflections in his voice when he lied, the tells that had once upon a time become second nature to Jayce–there was no trace of falsehood now. Not a single crack in his composure.

 

And that, more than anything, unsettled Jayce.

 

It made him wonder if Viktor let Jayce catch him in lies before, purposefully leaving breadcrumbs when it suited him. Because here and now, Viktor was wholly convincing. 

 

Markus’s keen gaze turned to Jayce, fixing him with an intense, probing stare.

 

“Have you had any guests in your lab over the past few months?” 

 

“Yes, of course,” Viktor cut in smoothly.

 

Markus’s lips melted into a sneer. “How about you let your friend here speak for himself?” The disdain in his tone was thick and condescending. Jayce blinked with a slight shake of his head. 

 

“Boss,” Steb interjected softly, his tone cautionary. Markus ignored him.

 

Jayce’s gaze darted between the two enforcers, trying to piece together the hostility radiating from Markus.

 

Then Viktor tilted his head, his expression cool but his smirk sharp.

 

“Is it my accent that is throwing you off, enforcer?” Viktor asked, his words laced with an almost amused type of venom.

 

Wait–

 

“You’re definitely far from home, aren't you, sump?” Markus hissed between clenched teeth. 

 

Jayce’s stomach dropped as the realization hit.

 

At that word hitting Jayce's senses, unfiltered fury snaked into his brain. He had a flash of an image pop into his head, one where his fist met that man's crooked nose. At this moment, Jayce was itching to crook it further.

 

“He is home,” Jayce warned with a lethal tone

 

The tension in the room swelled.

 

Jayce took a silent, deep breath in a desperate attempt to cool the spike of adrenaline that had taken over his body and was begging him to give in.

 

Jayce made sure to seem ever so composed on the outside. 

 

Markus’s eyes finally flicked in his direction after a lingering moment, but Jayce didn’t give him the chance to say another word.

 

“That kind of disrespect is not tolerated under my roof, enforcer.” Jayce’s deep and serious tone was unsparing as he sternly stared Markus down. “You’d do well to remember that.” 

 

That air tightened further, circling their necks with an invisible taunt. Jayce did not back down, his gaze fixed on Markus, while Viktor continued to study the photographs before him with that barely perceptible tilt in his lips.

 

“We’re going to need a list,” Steb inserted, his tone steady and neutral as he addressed Viktor directly. Markus straightened beside him, his expression still marred by disdain. Jayce refused to break eye contact with the man.

 

“That won't be an issue,” Viktor replied coolly, brushing off any hostility left in the air. “I will need a few days to review my calendar before getting back to you.”

 

“Very well,” Steb accepted. “Include anyone who’s been in contact with either of you recently, as well as anyone close to you.” 

 

“And why would you need that?” Jayce asked in a low voice. He spared Steb a glance, even though his peripheral focus was still trained on Markus.

 

“It’s standard procedure,” Steb explained, his tone attempting to soothe. “Just ensuring every base is covered. It shouldn’t cause any undue disruption to anyone involved.”

 

“In the meantime,” Markus’s lips twisted into a smug, unsettling smile. “You’re both under house arrest.”

 

There was a slight pause in the air, a strain rising anew among the four men.

 

“Excuse me?” Viktor’s brows lifted.

 

“Is that really necessary?” Inquired Jayce simultaneously. 

 

“You’ll still be permitted to leave for short errands,” Steb clarified, his delivery almost apologetic. “But there will be an enforcer stationed outside your building to ensure you’re accessible while we finalize this investigation.”

 

Jayce lifted his hand to rub at his temples while Viktor let out a long, exasperated sigh. 

 

“Great.”

 

///

 

“Viktor,” Jayce began, his voice low and weighted with seriousness, the moment the enforcers were gone and out of earshot. He turned to his old friend, his gaze stripped bare of pretenses, replaced by genuine concern that lingered in the tense air.  “We have to tell them.” 

 

Viktor had returned to his spot on the couch, and his expression was no longer relaxed and open, as it had been during the night. There was a line indented between his brows, his mind clearly at work. 

 

“No,” he said flatly, his tone leaving no chance to argue.

 

Jayce crossed the room and sank into the armchair opposite Viktor, his designated seat as of late. He pinched the bridge of his nose, massaging the tender skin in order to soothe his prickling nerves.

 

“Jinx is all over this,” Jayce pressed lightly, struggling to conceal his frustration. “She might as well have left her signature behind. They will find out, with or without us. Maybe we should say what we know.”

 

There was a stretched pause. Jayce stared at Viktor, whose gaze was pinned to a fixed point. He held the tip of his cardigan between his fingers, which slowly skimmed through the edge of the fabric.

 

“No.” 

 

“Vi–”

 

“I said no ,” Viktor cut him off sharply, molten fury flaring in his amber eyes as they snapped to Jayce, the sheer intensity forcing him to lean back slightly. There was a flicker of a painful memory, one he immediately buried. Viktor continued by adding, “I will not ruin her future for one mistake.”

 

Jayce’s jaw tightened, anger rising to meet Viktor’s defiance.

 

“That mistake–" he said through gritted teeth and a subtle tremble, "–could have killed you."

 

“But it didn’t,” Viktor shot back. “She probably left her trinket behind because she felt safe in our space, not because she wanted to bombard us.” 

 

“Intentions be what they may, that's exactly what she did.” Jayce leaned forward, his eyes boring into Viktor. “Viktor,” Jayce repeated carefully. “You saw the same pictures I did.”

 

“We don’t know for certain,” Viktor insisted, his voice laced with frustration. God, he was stubborn when he made up his mind. “Your conclusions are based on circumstantial evidence only.”  

 

Jayce sighed, removed his glasses for a moment and rubbed at his temples. He settled his lenses on his face anew.

 

“Is this about your friend?” 

 

Viktor’s brows slowly furrowed. “My friend?” 

 

“Silco,” Jayce spelled out. “The guy you’re fucking, remember? Maybe you're just trying to do him a favor.” 

 

Viktor blinked, taken aback for a moment, before Jayce noticed a tick in his jaw. “I said he's a guy I like to fuck, not one I’m currently fucking.” 

 

“Oh, well, thank you for the clarification,” Jayce laughed sarcastically. Something had been snapped loose inside him and as much as he attempted to pull the rope towards himself and regain control, he came to find the rope had been snipped. “Is this your weird fucking way of informing me there's others you are currently fucking?” 

 

“You're not privy to being informed ,” Viktor reminded, a darkness to his cadence.

 

“Thank fuck for that,” Jayce sneered. “Given the track record, I'd rather spare myself the sight of you with men who are old enough to be your father.” 

 

“He's not–” Viktor let out an exasperated grunt, interrupting himself. His eyes settled on Jayce with a newfound frigidity that made his body tense. Viktor unfurled a vicious curve to his mouth and Jayce watched the stretch of his mole accompanying the shift.

 

“And what makes you so sure that's not part of the appeal?” 

 

Even though Jayce had half a thought to wonder if Viktor was goading him, he couldn’t help himself. 

 

“That he's old?!” Jayce spluttered.

 

“That he's not a child,” Viktor spat back. 

 

Jayce felt a phantom pain, causing him to laugh mirthlessly to quickly avoid it. “So you run to him when you want to be taken care of instead?”

 

Viktor’s eyes dropped to the coffee table before them, an expression that Jayce couldn’t quite make sense of. When his attention returned, there was a clear detestation filtering in his gaze.

 

“It's complicated.” 

 

“It shouldn't be."

 

The hostility was palpable, a hum stretching between their collided glares. Jayce’s chest swelled with every breath, frustration brimming over common sense.

 

“What’s with this sudden interest over who I choose to bed?” Viktor bit out, his voice dripping with disdain. “Are you truly so bored with your own sex life?”

 

Jayce rolled his eyes, aware of Viktor's tactic to slide out of this conversation by turning it on Jayce. 

 

“He seems like a dangerous man,” Jayce persisted, his attention unblinking. “Maybe you’re just afraid of what’ll happen if you get his daughter in trouble.”

 

For a moment, Viktor simply stared at him, his mouth agape in silent shock. Then, he closed his eyes, tilted his head up and barked out a laugh– except it wasn’t warm or humorous anymore, but cold and biting. Each sound felt like a shard of glass flung in Jayce’s direction.

 

Viktor returned his cutting attention to Jayce, that razor-edged smile equally present. 

 

“You must not know me very well, then."

 

Jayce felt a rush of goosebumps come to life, erupting with the undeniable purr rolling beneath Viktor's cold-blooded tone.

 

Yeah, I’m sure you’d like that.

 

He raised an eyebrow instead, meeting Viktor’s sharp glower with a silent challenge. 

 

“You’re fucking unbearable,” Viktor grit out. He freed his hair with a frustrated tug, allowing the released strands to cup his elegant features for a flash. At once, he interlaced his digits between the waves of his delicate mane and ruthlessly scrunched it into a high bun atop his head. Viktor returned his pointed focus toward Jayce. “I want Jinx to get into a bachelor’s program. I want her to succeed.”

 

“So do I," Jayce tried calmly. “But if she might put other students and faculty members in danger–” 

 

 “I’ll talk to her.”

 

“For fucks sake, Viktor,” Jayce let out with an edged frustration, causing Viktor to narrow his eyes. Jayce massaged his temples and spoke with taut urgency. “This is your career going down the drain, we’re talking about. If you protect her, you will be an accomplice .” 

 

“Aren’t we already?”

 

Silence thrummed between them and Jayce rubbed the hand down his face, exasperation draining the little energy he had left due to the come down of the gummies, as well as the lack of sleep. He sighed. 

 

“I'm telling you, those pictures are not just an indication of her involvement. They’re undeniable proof.” 

 

“And you're all about that, aren't you?” Viktor spat, a familiar resentment returning with unforgiving acidity. His peer was challenging and Jayce’s stomach churned at the returned sight before him. “ Proof ?” 

 

_ _ _

 

Jayce tilted his head with excruciating slowness, boring his eyes onto Viktor with a newfound surprise that hadn’t been there before. 

 

Shit.

 

Viktor was still reeling from his interaction with the enforcer, and it did not aid the current circumstances that his body was heavier than usual. Anger churned and spiked in his chest, though he wasn’t entirely sure what had triggered it. There were far too many potential factors swirling in his head.

 

And underneath it, he was feeling disgustingly vulnerable: he did not want to ruin Jinx’s prospects. He knew this had been nothing more than a terrible, yet strangely fortunate, accident. A mistake that could be avoided, he was sure of it. The whole thing would blow over in time– no pun intended.

 

And seeing Jayce so eager to turn her in made his blood boil to the point of near blindness. 

 

“What's that supposed to mean?” Jayce asked cautiously. 

 

That would have been the perfect moment to shut his mouth, and yet, his mouth chose a life of its own.

 

" You tell me,” Viktor snapped, bitterness lacing his tongue. 

 

Jayce’s expression contorted with surprised offense at the ruthless insinuation, his eyes hardening as he took Viktor in. Viktor caught the subtle movement of Jayce’s throat bobbing in the silence that now stretched for too long.

 

“Did you–” Jayce stopped himself, his head pulling back slightly as though Viktor had verbally punched him. Then, like a spring snapping free, he shot to his feet. Viktor caught the faint tremor in Jayce’s clenched fists, his knuckles white with tension.

 

“Did you go through my computer?” Jayce demanded, his voice quiet. Deadly quiet.

 

Viktor kept his expression cutting, refusing to let any crack of remorse show, even as shame crawled under his skin like a stampede of fire ants, tip-tapping over his nervous system and integrity. 

 

Words failed him. Nothing came to mind for a much-needed rescue. He guessed– knew –that he owed Jayce an apology, yet the weight of everything between them kept him silent. He couldn’t fathom voicing it at present time.

 

In horrible honesty, he'd never expected to spend such a wondrous night in Jayce's company. Unfathomably, the weed had blurred the sharp edges of his feelings toward the man, allowing him to compartmentalize his conflicted emotions. Viktor was deeply shocked to discover how agonisingly easy it had been to return to a version of himself that he had murdered. Choked with his own two hands until it was twitching beneath his unforgiving grip. A version of himself he had had to bury in his backyard and leave behind, one that never again gave any sign of survival.

 

Only to experience it come back to life in the span of a blink. And all it took was Jayce fucking Talis. 

 

And for once, he'd been completely helpless to control it. Viktor had silently resigned to the need tugging inside his core, the one that did not want to be suffocated. The one that missed being free and alive and unpreoccupied. The one that so clearly bloomed to life in the most dangerous of circumstances.

 

He found a need to be annoyed by it, one he'd tucked away for the time being.

 

Viktor had taken full advantage of the fact that Jayce had lain sprawled on the floor to steal glances at him, knowing the man had been too relaxed to notice. For the second time since he'd returned, he'd taken in a more prolonged perception of the man he used to know, instead of fleeting moments suspended between larger periods of rigidness.

 

Viktor had spent the night taking in the easy smiles, the teasing, the underlying passion that sparked in Jayce's gaze. The crinkles erupting in the corners of his eyes when he expressed some form of elation, even if discreet– they had reminded Viktor of Meni. 

 

Jayce’s laughter had rung out alongside his, flooding Viktor with an infectious mood he had never allowed himself to miss. And worst of all, Viktor had been filled in the moment with such profound relief as he witnessed a sliver of Jayce's jovial character. One that still survived somewhere inside him, despite first impressions. 

 

That recognition on its own had been its own form of self-betrayal.

 

Yet Viktor had dangerously bathed in its casual warmth and let it soak into his soul unchallenged, as it once had.

 

However, without his defenses, thoughts Viktor would have otherwise fiercely repressed had surfaced without restraint. Thoughts his past self would have recognized.

 

Such as, how a full beard suited his complexion. How the calm light in his dancing eyes seemed to reach out and drag Viktor in with excruciating softness. How his quick wit and restless intelligence enveloped Viktor in a familiarity that he had not wanted to shrug off. 

 

Viktor had never been one to laugh often. It was a part of himself he'd had to train in his youth, considering every time he allowed himself, his lungs always seemed to take personal offense. A coughing fit would often follow suit, leaving an accompanying blaze with every inhale, as well as every exhale, for the rest of the day. He'd concluded to himself that the price to pay wasn't worth the trouble.  

 

But then he met Jayce. 

 

And, somehow, the act of laughing stopped being a choice. 

 

It'd never been a challenge to keep it reeled in; Viktor had never felt any urge to be loud with his self-expression. 

 

He wasn't entirely sure how Jayce had managed to do it but he’d masterfully found a way to abruptly rip those mirthful sounds from Viktor's throat, regardless of how hard he attempted to leash them in. It was like Jayce reached inside him and tugged. Freely.

 

It was the first time Viktor conceded that whatever pain came after was undoubtedly worth it. Meeting Jayce had caused him to embrace that scorching sensation, welcomed it even. Their laughter, once upon a time interwoven and feeding off each other’s unrestrained delight, inviting one other to unchain any sense of control, had been the most addictive of poisons. Liberating, weightless, buzzing his core with aliveness. Consequences be damned.

 

Viktor no longer had to worry as much about laughter being a source of pain, yet the habit of being careful with it remained. 

 

He'd never expected Jayce to have any residue of that power over him after everything that had happened. Never. 

 

And yet, after last night, he could no longer fully assume that to be true. Just the same, the sneaky bastard had a way about him that gave Viktor no choice but to unleash himself. 

 

He'd managed to make Viktor laugh. And even if just the once, even if by mistake– Viktor was now mortified of the fact. 

 

And that explained why the annoyance he'd tucked away was back with a mighty force.

 

Jayce didn't deserve a thing. And Viktor was far too easily manipulated by him to be able to keep himself in check. It was a slippery slope, one he had more than enough evidence to know where it landed. And who paid the price for it.

 

Even so, Jayce seemed to effortlessly make Viktor lose who he was, who he had fabricated himself to be. Robbed him of control. Made him temporarily let go of things he'd been holding onto with a death-grip.

 

Jayce made Viktor both forget and simultaneously remember.

 

Currently, that knowledge only added gasoline to the wooden stakes rising in his head, readying for a victim to be dragged into place and be set alight. Desperate cure by annihilation. 

 

And the chosen victim–or better yet, the chosen perpetrator-was currently, quietly heaving before him. Satisfaction curled in Viktor's gut at the sight.

 

He craved setting their evening ablaze until it turned into ash.

 

As Viktor watched Jayce move to stand behind the armchair, white knuckled hands gripping each side, he found himself momentarily wanting–  

 

For some inexplicable reason, Viktor found himself wanting answers, for once. 

 

“So?” he prompted. 

 

Jayce's stare was fixated on the furniture beneath his grasp, a quiet wrath bidding to be let loose. 

 

Viktor wanted it loose.

 

“You had no right,” Jayce ground out. 

 

“Funny coming from you ,” Viktor fired back, his nostrils flaring and his teeth bared. "And I do if it involves me ."

 

“You had no way of knowing that at first, did you?” Jayce rushed out, vitriol laced in every spoken word.

 

Viktor smirked menacingly. 

 

“What is it, then? What is it you're trying to prove where I'm involved, Talis? Enlighten me.”

 

His eyes met Viktor's with profound exhaustion, despite the tension radiating from his stiff posture. 

 

“You're being unfair.” 

 

“I'm being unfair?!” Viktor’s voice rose, incredulous. His eyes blazed, astonished by the display of audacity before him. " You brought me here. I didn't choose to be swept away in blasts from the past, yet it's now a daily occurrence that I can't escape because I am stuck here. And somehow, I'm being unfair?" 

 

Jayce was swaying his head in disbelief.

 

“Has it ever crossed your fucking mind that there's two of us here?” Jayce seethed with a raspy voice. “That I might have a side to all of this?” 

 

“I don’t care about your side,” Viktor lashed out, the sentiment tasting like a semi-lie for the first time. That knowledge caused his chest to tighten in perceived treason. 

 

Jayce flinched at the words.

 

“That's fair,” he accepted with an empty tone. “Good to know for certain.”

 

A heavy silence settled between them, tense and wry and wrong. 

 

It provoked Viktor’s unstable need to shatter something anew.

 

“Besides,” Viktor finally voiced, his tone dripping with contempt. “What side could you possibly have here?”

 

Jayce’s jaw tightened, his fingers clenching and unclenching, channeling all of his focus onto that small movement in search of anything to ground him. Despite the many years apart, Viktor could apparently still read him like an open book, and there was a smug satisfaction curling inside him over such a realization.

 

“Don't go there," Jayce warned, an oily rage simmering and waiting to be set aflame in his tongue.

 

Viktor laughed mirthlessly. 

 

“No, please, do tell,” he bit out with slicing disbelief. “What could I have possibly done to cause you hurt?” 

 

Viktor shook his head when all that was returned was silence, his expression a storm of incredulity. 

 

“You are so self-centered, Talis. Truly, it’s astonishing. I’ve done nothing to you, and yet here you stand. Acting like wounded prey. So, go on, fucking stroke your own ego and tell me what it is you’re trying to prove.”

 

Jayce’s gaze dropped, his shoulders rigid with tension.

 

He seemed defeated.

 

“That you gave a shit,” he answered in a small voice. 

 

The words slapped Viktor with a force he was unprepared for. A sharp, unexpected sting that left him momentarily reeling.

 

How could he possibly–

 

“You question that?!” Viktor demanded, his voice rising in astonishment. He sensed his eyes bulging out of their sockets, the outward bewilderment covering up the deep, startling pain elicited by his words.

 

Jayce’s eyes snapped to his with a quiet, furious, unapologetic determination.

 

“Of course I do.” 

 

Viktor erupted with another humorless, acrid sound that was barely a laugh. The surreal absurdity of the moment threatened to crush him, but he leaned into it instead.

 

“Well, then,” Viktor said, brows gliding up and down in a fluid motion, blatantly sharing his incredulousness. He made a gesture with his hand towards Jayce, an edged encouragement. “This is your chance. Tell me exactly what it is that I did that hurt you so profoundly that you believe your anger to be justified. Tell me what led you to conclude that I never cared, go on. Tell me.” 

 

Jayce’s eyes flashed, and his lips parted to speak, but then he stopped himself. He released a tight breath through his teeth. “You said yesterday–” 

 

“I know what I fucking said,” Viktor snapped, his exasperation harsh and rising. “I'm asking you now .” 

 

The air in the room felt thick, their breaths heavy as they stared into one another– once close friends, now nothing but aggravated strangers with mountains of resentment and nowhere to pin it but each other. The silence was palpable, yet the sound of their breathing filled the space like a deafening symphony, an ironically perfect counterpoint filling the thrumming stillness between them.

 

Viktor smirked, knowing the answer to his question. “Or could it be that you have nothing ?”

 

“Viktor–” 

 

“TELL ME,” Viktor demanded with a shout, a volume that had never before occurred between them.

 

“YOU LEFT ME,” Jayce screamed back, tendons protruding from his neck, the facade of the ever-composed member of society finally truly shattered before Viktor.

 

Jayce let out a groan, pulling at his hair, spasmodically turning on himself, either looking for something to throw or perhaps somewhere to flee. He whirled towards Viktor, a man unmade, causing his breath to catch.

 

Jayce pointed that infamous finger at him, unleashed rage filling his dilated pupils.

 

“ You left me .” 

 

To his inconceivable surprise, the visceral hurt behind the accusation hit Viktor like a shot wound, an unexpected gaping hole now coughing up blood inside him and drowning him in it.

 

Despite the fact that he had no regrets about ever doing so, which was... conflicting, to say the least.

 

Hazel eyes were ferociously locked onto him, and in the span of a second, Jayce's water lines flooded with a tidal wave, annihilating in their nature. The light reflected a shimmer in his eyes, born of the weight of unshed tears.

 

Jayce's lower lashes held his anguish with the same condemned determination as Atlas held the world.

 

It struck Viktor that he was staring at his long-lost friend. There. He was right there, and that sudden understanding hit him twice as hard as any other.

 

Jayce, the man who wore his feelings on the cuff of his sleeve. Jayce, who spoke his mind and didn't balk when Viktor shared his. Jayce, the most soothing of hurricanes, the most breathtaking of mayhems, the most infuriating of balms. The most devastating of friends, once.

 

Jayce's finger began to tremble, and the rage in his eyes clawed to stay on the surface. The brows that were once furrowed in fury now pinched upwards as his eyes shone further. Each breath coming out of him sounded like a caged animal pacing inside his mouth, his locked jaw forcing his teeth to become the bars of its enclosure. His snarl was turning into a grimace.

 

Jayce's chest rose and fell rapidly, picking up speed as pain rippled from him in waves. 

 

“Jayce,” Viktor breathed, recognising the ghost come to life. 

 

A high-pitched whine ripped out of Jayce. A sound of pure, unbridled agony that cut through the air like a ruthless blade. 

 

It punctured Viktor with a merciless stab, over and over again, slicing him open with the echoes of it still ringing inside his head. The cacophony reverberated through his chest and splintered the existing, fragile pieces he'd been certain to have eviscerated. 

 

Almost violently, Viktor was overtaken by his younger self. He came to the surface with a wild rupture, and there was nothing he could do to prevent it.

 

Viktor found himself unable to breathe properly. He didn't think he'd ever forget that shattering sound coming out of Jayce's mouth. He did not know what to do with it, or how to live with it. 

 

For all the times Viktor had wanted Jayce to suffer, now that that reality stared back at him, he wished he could take it all back. 

 

It was unbearable to witness. A deep wound had flared to the surface, only to take Viktor with it. 

 

Jayce’s face crumpled under the force of his mangled emotions, a tear spilling into his cheek.

 

“You left me,” he whimpered, his voice thin and broken.

 

Glasses abandoned on the cushion before him, Jayce's head dropped onto his hands as a restrained sob broke out of him. It made Viktor want to fall to his knees and pick up the sound with his trembling palms.

 

As it always came to be, Viktor's anger had dissolved like smoke in the wind at the sight of any pain coming from Jayce, leaving but a hollow devastation in its place. For all the fire and fury that had burned between them, for all the unresolved tension and sharp words exchanged, this was something else entirely. 

 

Viktor realized, with crushing clarity, that it wasn’t pride alone keeping Jayce alive in this fight– it was also a form of heartbreak. And it should have filled him with satisfaction, but the sentiment did not arise at all.

 

Viktor was frozen in place, eyes wide, slight tremors coursing through his body.

 

“I–” Viktor tried. He found himself standing, his body being pulled towards Jayce, despite his mind wanting to stay in place. Viktor felt like a stranger in his own skin after years of not coming into contact with this version of himself. 

 

Viktor’s breath caught in his throat. “I didn't know,” he whispered, the words barely audible.

 

He'd never thought about whether his leaving would have any permanent impact on Jayce. He'd never even considered it. Viktor had assumed he’d moved on to other friendships, other aspects of life, while Viktor reforged whatever remained of himself.

 

Viktor’s presence had never had any permeability anywhere, an aspect of himself he had not chosen at first, but had come to wield in his favor throughout the years. Especially when it became clear that he would die young. 

 

Viktor had believed that any calamity had been his, and his alone, to bear. 

 

And now he wasn't so sure anymore.

 

Still, Jayce's pain did not dissolve his own. It was like two realities were unwelcomingly mismatching and colliding.

 

And if there were any feelings of exasperated injustice regarding that newly occurring event, they were quickly shoved aside for the time being. 

 

Jayce’s eyes finally rose to meet his, damp with newly rescued fury. A tightness constricted in Viktor’s chest despite that faraway voice convincing him Jayce deserved it. 

 

Right now, he hated that voice.

 

“You don't get to question my view of reality. You vanished. ” 

 

How could it be possible for Viktor to feel so many things all at once? That echo was desperately begging him to remain implacable.

 

But… the look on Jayce's face. 

 

There was a profound desolation pulsating from somewhere within, like a high radiation exuding from Jayce's soul that would eventually contaminate whatever it touched. Except in this moment, he couldn't perceive the effects of that invisible poison. Viktor, unfortunately, only felt sorrow. 

 

Viktor let out the breath he’d been sequestering and found himself lulled into taking a tentative step forward, causing Jayce to jerk backwards. 

 

“ Don't, ” he warned with a slicing tone. 

 

And even though Viktor didn't owe a single explanation, even though something within growled at the perception that he was being made to feel guilty over a completely logical choice, if not necessary, he didn't have it in him to cause further harm. 

 

He was witnessing someone he used to care about bleed out before him. He wanted to cauterise the wound. 

 

“Come here,” he said softly. 

 

And as Jayce's red-rimmed eyes met his, Viktor saw it. A quiet terror was painted in them, unsure of whether this would add alcohol to the wound. 

 

Viktor didn't balk. 

 

He knew this Jayce. He recognised this Jayce like he recognised the life-lines curving in his own palm. He’d recognise him with his eyes closed, just by the excruciatingly familiar heat stretching from his body somewhere in Viktor's vicinity. He'd recognise him by the brush of his calloused fingers, and by the length of his heavy, confident stride, usually moving in his direction.

 

“If you don't come to me,” he said lightly, “I will come to you. And I might be slower, but I'm far more stubborn. You can only run for so long.” 

 

Jayce didn’t respond with humor.

 

“And what if I don’t want to be touched by you?” His voice cracked, a wet edge to his tone.

 

Viktor winced inwardly, his heart tightening as he heard an inner, primal side of him cry out to Jayce. The spoken question rained an abrupt devastation in his psyche, leaving him open with a final kill-shot. 

 

A trembling breath escaped him and if his calves had not been in contact with the couch, he would have staggered back at those words being uttered into the fabric of reality.

 

He'd never thought Jayce could feel that way toward him. But of course, of course he could.

 

And what if I don't want to be touched by you ?

 

Viktor sensed his soul lay within him like a corpse, twitching and still warm to the touch.

 

“Then at least let me sit here with you," he asked, an uncontrollable wobble lacing the end of the sentence.

 

Jayce wiped his cheeks furiously, vanishing any trace of his anguish. Then, he narrowed his glistening hazel eyes.

 

“Why?” 

 

Viktor paused, swallowing the lump in his throat and choosing his words carefully. 

 

“Because you're in pain.” 

 

Jayce flinched, and Viktor immediately regretted his choice. 

 

“I don't need–” 

 

“Jayce,” Viktor cut in gently, the name spoken with quiet imploration. “Let me.” 

 

Jayce must have heard the strain in Viktor's voice because he silently watched him for a moment. Viktor was rooted in place, and even though Jayce couldn't perceive it, his crutch was quietly shaking under the weight of his stubbornly unmoving body.

 

“Fine.” 

 

Without looking in Viktor’s direction, he moved his lenses to the coffee table and dropped down to the armchair. Viktor, with extreme slowness, settled on the couch once again. He set his aid aside and grabbed the blanket, draping it over his lap as an imperceptible barrier between his aching frame and the storm-wind of a man before him.

 

Viktor thought of a gesture once upon a time, one that had genuinely touched him and helped him feel safe, when Meni allowed him to choose when he was ready for contact. 

 

Why he was trying to create a safe space for the person who'd obliterated him, he didn't know.

 

But Viktor couldn't pretend to forget how grounding those gestures were to Jayce.

 

“If at any point you change your mind,” Viktor murmured. “You’re welcome… To come closer.” 

 

Jayce did not respond, but Viktor knew he’d understood the message. Jayce laced his fingers through his hair, combing it back, and settled further into his armchair.

 

A part of Viktor wished he had shouted in turn, despite the fact that he'd never done so before today. He wished he could have stormed out, broken a vase, spewed a string of words vile enough to irreparably deepen the valley between them– just like he would have done with anyone else with their history. Anyone who wasn't Jayce.

 

But Viktor was weak . Tonight had only proved why his desire to leave had been so blinding. 

 

Jayce had always been an exception. And it seemed that the echoes of those memories were still finding their way to the surface, today.

 

A new understanding had dawned in Viktor's mind, and seeing the glimpse of the man he'd–once upon a time–so fiercely wanted to protect had made it impossible to welcome any other impulses. Viktor was a Pavlovian dog, trained to care around certain triggers when he so desperately wished he could ignore them.

 

For the first time, Viktor wondered what had happened to Jayce once he'd left. For the first time, he wondered what other information he was missing regarding their fallout. 

 

That tormented whine was ricocheting somewhere in the back of his mind.

 

They sat in silence, time slipping by unnoticed. Occasionally, their eyes would meet, and though there was an undeniable edge in Jayce’s curious gaze, Viktor had none left to offer for the time being. He allowed himself to be transparent, not shying away from the rawness in Jayce’s watchful expression. Their eyes rested against one another from across the room, letting the minutes stretch out into a familiar limbo that erased time itself. 

 

Exhaustion crept in, slow and inevitable, but neither of them left the room they were currently in. Jayce slouched deeper into the armchair, shoulders heavy and expression etched with a profound sadness Viktor did not know how to wipe away. Did not know how to begin to understand. Did not know whether he should even want to understand. Probably not. 

 

Thus, Viktor simply curled onto the couch, rested his head on a soft cushion, and remained.

 

Viktor closed his eyes eventually. Every so often, he would hear occasional rustling sounds or the weight of heavy sighs coming from Jayce's direction.

 

“What is that?” Jayce finally asked at some point, frustration and a trace of anger still clinging to his tone. 

 

Viktor cracked one eye open and saw Jayce leaning forward, neck taut as he looked to the side with palpable expectation.

 

“What?” Viktor murmured, voice coated with sleep. 

 

“That damned noise, don't you hear it?” 

 

Viktor sharpened his listening, ready to mock Jayce for his overactive paranoia. 

 

But he heard it then. 

 

“That?” he asked right after the sound repeated, trepidation coiling in his stomach. 

 

“Yes, yes,” Jayce urged, inching forward and encouraged by the fact that Viktor could perceive it also. “What is it? It’s like this mechanical whisper, almost.” 

 

Viktor stared at him with one eye open. 

 

“That would be me, you dickhead.” 

 

He watched as Jayce’s face paused and recalibrated before it contorted with genuine horror. Viktor quickly closed his eyes, not wanting that image to burn itself into his memory and most definitely, not wanting to encourage any further dialogue about it.

 

To his surprise, Jayce didn’t say another word.

 

Of course, it had to be Jayce fucking Talis the only other person in this god-forsaken world who could apparently perceive it.

 

After a quiet pause, more rustling sounds filled the room, followed by a loud thump in his immediate vicinity, causing the couch to slightly shake for a moment. Reluctantly, Viktor opened his eye again, only to find Jayce sitting on top of the plush pink rug beneath them, his broad back leaning against Viktor’s sofa. From this angle, Viktor could see the white bandage stretching from his shoulder and peeking through his collar.

 

A pillow had been placed in front of Viktor's torso, which Jayce used to rest his head, lolled back in a casual, awkward angle. His eyes were closed for sleep.

 

Viktor’s stomach flopped at the sight. If he were to drag his hand ever so slightly, his fingers would brush through Jayce’s hair. They, unfortunately, itched to do so, as they had once before. Traitors.

 

They were especially adamant now that he'd seen a glimpse of a pain Viktor hadn't known existed until today. Regardless of his own, a muted, ghostly part within him tugged to soothe it. Even if he didn't know how. Even if he should know better by now.

 

It stoked his self-hatred.

 

And what if I don't want to be touched by you?

 

Viktor shut his eyes as if he could shut the hurt still beating inside him, curling his fingers into his palm.

 

Viktor felt raw and scared, tired and confused. He felt bad, thinking of how uncomfortable that posture might be to sleep in. Even if he was begrudgingly glad that Jayce had somewhat relented and come into his vicinity. 

 

“If you sleep in that position, you’re going to snore horrendously,” Viktor offered instead, his tone groggy.

 

Jayce let out a huff of air in response. He sniffled. 

 

“That seems like your problem to deal with.” 

 

Viktor sighed a heavy thing. "Typical," he murmured back, his consciousness pulling him down.

 

As he focused on Jayce's breaths, quietly lulling him to sleep, new vulnerable thoughts bubbled to the forefront of his mind.

 

Like the fact that his absence had mattered, somehow.

 

He had believed his whole life that no matter where he went, there were never any footprints left behind. 

 

And today had proved him wrong on that account with a merciless slap to the face. Even if he shouldn't care, he couldn't help it either.

 

He'd caused a wound as well, and plausible deniability could be applied no longer. 

 

Once Jayce's respiration got heavier, and only then, was Viktor able to surrender to his exhaustion.

Notes:

TW: xenophobia, crossing boundaries, emotional breadown, description of illness

///

ACAB!!!!!!!

I love how its so canon in the show that Jayce fakin hates markus HHAHAHAHA HES SO SASSY TO HIM AND I LOVE IT

this chapter ruptured my soul yall. Fun fact, the you left me scene was one of the first ones I ever wrote for this fic D:

did anyone notice how V coughed any time he laughed with abandon in the flashbacks? Like no he's not a serious person he's just trying not to be in pain 😭

also the fact that jayce was so bothered by the whirring sounds, and yet the moment he found out they were coming from viktor, it simply stopped bothering him? and desspite his noise sensitivity, he came closer to SLEEEEEP?? i hurt myself when i write sometimes guys D': (totally projecting my own autistic ass problems onto Jayce HAHA)

also hate that they talked about like three different topics and got to no conclusion in any of them HAHAHA

As always, any feedback and/or overall opinion is not only welcome, but deeply appreciated <3

tooodalooooo!

Chapter 18: (F) A little maniacal there, V.

Summary:

Jayce begins to uncover Viktor's health issues.

And a silly hang.

Notes:

TW IN ENDNOTES

hello wonderful humans!

FLASHBACK 

 

Welcome to hell, indeed.

 

In the weeks following their earnest conversation during New Year’s, Viktor had gradually begun to open up to Jayce about what he did in his free time. 

 

Reading. Studying. The very occasional clubbing, whenever he craved feeling sound waves vibrate in his chest. Surprisingly, ceramics. Taking care of house plants was its own hobby, apparently. Otherwise, any spare energy was mostly spent on things he found 'productive'. 

 

Unfortunately, there was a considerable portion that revolved around doctors, specialist appointments, pain management, and navigating the infernal labyrinth of insurance bureaucracy.

 

Jayce had suspected, in a vague, detached way, that Viktor’s health probably demanded some attention. But witnessing firsthand the sheer, relentless effort required for the simple privilege of continuing to breathe was a realization that nothing could have ever prepared him for. It was yet another aspect of his existence that he had taken for granted: to waltz through his day without continuous concern and consideration, or meticulous assistance. It was a sobering realization.

 

Jayce was beginning to recognize that it wasn’t just the constant pain that exhausted Viktor. It was the endless cycle of medical visits, the same grim prognoses delivered in sterile rooms, the waiting, the discomfort; all contributing to the drip that was causing the quiet erosion of the man he’d come to know with each passing day. 

 

It was easier to understand now, in a way he hadn’t before, why Viktor kept so much to himself regarding this aspect of his life. Jayce could see how it drained him–not just physically, but mentally–to be forced to dedicate so much of his time to simply maintaining his existence, when he should have been free to worry about anything else.

 

Jayce couldn't help but feel frustrated about it. Why did they have to overcomplicate this process so uselessly? Why hadn't the system figured out a more efficient, compassionate and accessible way to go through the process of getting help? As if people who ended up in urgent care didn't have enough to concern themselves about, only to add more stress with these long and dreadful proceedings. Especially with the insurance companies, it was utterly despairing. And he'd had but a taste.

 

To Jayce's cold shock, Viktor’s health seemed to be deteriorating at a rapid rate. Or perhaps Jayce was, only now , fully aware of the extent of his struggles.

 

Despite that crushing reality, Viktor continued to have days where he was completely himself, vibrant and mischievous and brimming with his usual brilliance.

 

Except those were now, at times, followed by new days, where his energy plummeted and Viktor struggled even to keep up with casual conversation.

 

Regardless of his disposition, Jayce embraced whatever Viktor could offer and tried his best to conceal any perceivable concern. But in truth, it was an unpredictable roller-coaster, and profoundly jarring to see Viktor's demeanour change so drastically–almost violently–from one day to the next.

 

Each morning, as Jayce roused, the first thought that slid into his mind was of Viktor. He wondered what version of his friend he would see trailing into the lab. Sent up a prayer in hopes of a good day.

 

Thankfully, Jayce had started accompanying Viktor to his doctor’s appointments. It had taken him a couple of weeks to work up the nerve to ask, and, as expected, Viktor had been adamant about refusing. Given what he’d admitted about never having anyone by his side in matters of his health, Jayce hadn’t been surprised.

 

But he hadn’t been deterred, either.

 

Rather than push, he remained steady, reminding Viktor every so often that the offer stood and that the desire to go was entirely his own. They continued their late nights in the lab, running tests under the glow of that ever-present red bulb when one evening, without preamble, Viktor let out a weary sigh and finally relented.

 

Even then, Jayce could tell that it wasn’t an easy choice for him. Jayce had noticed that a part of Viktor seemed to be embarrassed by it, though he’d never voiced it directly. But little by little, Jayce was beginning to peek through the cracks of that carefully constructed armor.

 

Viktor had never been one to flaunt what he considered to be weaknesses, and this particular vulnerability ran deep. It wasn’t often that he allowed himself to be seen without the veil of sharp intellect and quiet control. But here, in these waiting rooms, Jayce was grateful that his lab partner trusted him enough to allow him to witness Viktor in a new light. Not powerful, all-knowing or constantly put-together.

 

Just really, really, tired.

 

Yet still, unmistakably himself.

 

“I hate it here,” Viktor muttered under his breath one day as they sat in the hospital waiting room. 

 

A huff of air escaped through Jayce's nose. “I can't imagine why that'd be the case.”

 

Viktor gave him a long side-eye.

 

“The lighting is terrible,” he continued.

 

Jayce remained sprawled in the hard chair, his brows slowly knitting together. “The lighting?” 

 

Viktor was glaring at the ceiling as if it were his personal nemesis. “These fluorescent whites? They’re a nightmare.” 

 

Jayce straightened and covered his mouth to hide his roguish smile from the other people in his immediate vicinity. He kept his voice low.

 

“So, not the looming presence of death.” 

 

“No.”

 

“Not the constant smell of disinfectant or the periods of endless waiting."

 

“Neither of those help, but no.” 

 

“And not the sickly.”

 

“Of course not.”

 

Jayce was staring at Viktor, laughter wanting to erupt from his throat at the image of sheer hatred painted in his piercing eyes, staring daggers at the bulbs above them.

 

“The lighting, exclusively,” Jayce concluded. 

 

Viktor turned to him, as if the argument should be self-explanatory. “It's invasive.”

 

Jayce made a mental note to buy Viktor some shades that would protect him from the rudeness of hospital luminescence. 

 

Viktor’s primary care physician, Dr. Hanne, was a blonde, middle-aged woman with a kind yet assertive demeanor, which was a combination Jayce quite liked. He was happy to sit quietly in the room as they conversed and absorbed as much information as she would disclose.

 

As it turns out, the degenerative lung disorder was, in fact, degenerative. 

 

And although Jayce had known this, that fact settled within him with a newfound realization that hadn't been there before. 

 

Viktor was not going to get better. 

 

Apparently, it was part of the ongoing treatment to accept such a thing and Jayce found that he could not. Of course, he had not vocalised it, considering he was only newly invited into this part of Viktor's life and did not want to immediately overstep. But that defiance burned through his spirit with unrelenting force.

 

Jayce wanted to get a second opinion, a third, a tenth. 

 

It was as if someone had casually informed him that he was mid-way through a race, except his opponent was time, each vigorous tick-tock a reprimand to his inadequacy as well as a caution of walls closing in around him. The panic caused by the notion alone made him feel as if he'd been dunked underwater, every noise and movement reaching him through layers of distortion whenever he found himself in those consuming spirals.

 

Still, he was careful not to scare Viktor off with his high-intensity emotions. Jayce did not want his privileges of closeness revoked for, as Viktor liked to put it, his fussing.  

 

Despite this being about life or death. 

 

Nevertheless, for now, he was merely grateful to be here, to tag along to Viktor’s consultations, as well as meet those in charge of his care. Jayce wanted to learn as much as he possibly could so that Viktor could actually lean on him, instead of having to educate him further on the consequences of his disease.

 

At the end of certain appointments, Jayce would ask Viktor if he could interrogate the doctors. At first, he had frowned at the perceived interest, but after a shrug coated with indifference, Jayce would take his consent and, without any hesitation, he would hit each physician with question after question. 

 

What alleviated Viktor’s type of pain the most? What was to be expected in the following weeks or months? What studies should he be searching for in order to better understand Viktor's condition? What things was he unable to consider that could benefit Viktor’s comfort and well-being? 

 

The worst one he hadn't had the courage to ask in front of Viktor. 

 

One afternoon, after another check-up in Dr. Hanne’s office, Jayce paused on their way out of the building. He gave Viktor a side-eye, watched as he distractedly dragged himself toward the exit. Jayce reached for his shoulder, offering him a squeeze to grab his attention. 

 

“I’ll meet you outside,” Jayce said casually. “Need to use the restroom.”

 

Viktor hummed in acknowledgment, too tired to question it.

 

Jayce turned on his heel and strode straight back into that office. He didn’t knock. He swung the door open instead, his heartbeat utterly deafening in his ears.

 

Startled, Dr. Hanne looked up from her paperwork.

 

“How long?” He blurted out.

 

She blinked, her expression caught off guard.

 

“How long?” She repeated with confusion. 

 

Jayce swallowed. 

 

“How long does he have?” 

 

Understanding dawned in her regard. Her expression softened.

 

“That’s difficult to say with certainty.” 

 

Jayce could not let it go. 

 

“Give me an estimate,” he blindly insisted. 

 

She sighed heavily. Dr. Hanne stared at her notes for a moment before returning his attention. She shared with a gentle tone, “Maybe a year or two?” 

 

The response felt like a punch to his throat, momentarily snatching the air from his lungs. Devastation coiled in his gut, yet he felt simultaneously fortunate. That he had gotten to know before it could have been too late. 

 

There was still time.

 

“Does he know?” Jayce forced himself to ask.

 

Dr. Hanne studied his gaze, her expression kind but knowing.

 

“We haven’t discussed it outright, as per his own request,” she admitted. “But…  I think he suspects.”

 

Jayce’s eyes dropped to the floor, his chest aching and his breath escaping his lungs with a shallowness that accompanied the one unavoidably settling underneath.

 

He forced himself to look up again, keeping his voice as steady as he could.

 

“And there’s nothing we can do?” 

 

Dr. Hanne pursed her lips. “Not with his resources.” 

 

Of all the answers he could have braced himself for, this one felt like the most unexpectedly barbaric of them all.

 

Jayce swallowed against the helplessness burning in his throat. 

 

“Besides, we would only be prolonging his suffering,” she confessed quietly. Dr. Hanne watched him for a moment. “Look out for whenever he starts coughing up blood,” she added with excruciating consideration, as if that would soften the desolating blow. “You’ll know to get ready then.” There was a heavy pause. “I’m sorry.” 

 

Jayce hid in the bathroom and splashed his face with cold water before returning. Viktor was sitting on a bench outside the building, eyes glazed while he waited for Jayce to either take him home or back to the lab. 

 

Jayce must have been doing something right lately, because every time they left those insidious consultations, Viktor had a soft smile on his face whenever he looked up at him. 

 

And that had to be enough for now. 

 

Another key realization Jayce had come to was that, beyond Viktor's desire for privacy and reluctance to reveal vulnerability, there was a deeper, unspoken reason for his refusal to discuss his health. It seemed Viktor was adamant on ignoring his reality until he could no longer. 

 

He'd once caught him saying, “I already live it every day, what a nuisance to converse about it in my free time.” 

 

So Jayce did his best to respect that. He made a conscious effort to keep their conversations light, to preserve the semblance of normalcy between them, just as it had been before all of this. They weren’t patient and caregiver, after all; they were lab partners. Friends.

 

Currently, they sat in the spacious lab, which had become a comforting part of their routine. At the end of each week, they tested any new upgrades they were integrating into their invention. 

 

Viktor was working on adjusting the metrics of their sensors while Jayce was designing a new compartment to store the wet wipes, one that could collect them after use and make their disposal far more accessible, without having to crack open the machine every time.

 

The red light was consuming him.

 

“Is there any way we could turn this off for the time being?” Jayce asked, a hint of defeat in his tone.

 

Viktor glanced up from his screen, following Jayce’s gaze to the massive bulb, showering them in a shade of vermilion. 

 

“Let's see,” he murmured to himself. 

 

After a minute, the bulb clicked off. Jayce turned his head slowly, disbelief coating his expression as he stared at his friend. 

 

“It was that easy?” 

 

Viktor made a gesture of non-commitment, humming his response.

 

Jayce shook his head with a broad smile and Viktor curiously met his gaze. “Why in the hell have we been bathing in the blood of our failures?” 

 

Viktor grimaced, lips curving into an uncertain smile. “Ambiance?” 

 

Jayce returned to his notebook, amusedly shocked. “Good to know you have a masochistic streak.” 

 

Viktor snorted. “Only when I’m around you,” he sighed, already immersed as he resumed his typing.

 

Jayce was not sure how to interpret that comment, so he assumed Viktor was tired and rambling. Jayce joined him in refocusing on their work. 

 

Every now and then, a robotic voice would echo into the room saying “ Render complete” , and the bulb would shine red anew before Viktor swiftly disabled it. 

 

“Oh, by the way,” Jayce blurted out an hour later. “In my last meeting with Heimer, he mentioned something about a competition he thinks we should apply for.” 

 

Viktor’s tired gaze flicked to Jayce. He raised an eyebrow. “The distinguished innovators competition?” 

 

Jayce snapped his fingers. “Yes! That.” 

 

Viktor exhaled slowly. “We’re nowhere near ready.” 

 

Jayce leaned further back in his chair, balancing his weight on the two rear legs. “According to him, if we can get it to purify sixty-five percent of the air, we’re in.” 

 

“And you would find that acceptable?” Viktor asked, his golden eyes lifting from his screen to scrutinize Jayce. “To present sixty-five percent of our invention?” 

 

Jayce shrugged. “Not really,” he admitted. “But apparently, if we win, it’s a one-way ticket to an investor.” 

 

“Yes, well, I don’t think we can win.” He pointed to the machine aloofly. “As it is right now, that’s trash.”  

 

“We still have time,” Jayce reminded soothingly. “Besides, maybe it could be fun?” he added, sneakily testing the waters.  

 

Viktor tilted his head, considering the new perspective. “I have heard they throw a phenomenal after-party.” 

 

Jayce leaned forward with a smirk. “We could bag it and get hammered.” 

 

The motion, however, tipped him just a little too far. There was a fleeting moment filled with panic as he flailed, rapidly gripping Viktor’s desk like his life depended on it. He managed to steady himself once more, only to catch Viktor’s head shaking with an infectious smile. Jayce's attention held on that dancing mole atop his upper lip.

 

“One day,” Viktor mused longingly. “One day you will fall on your ass, and it will be spectacular. I can’t wait.” 

 

“Don’t hold your breath,” Jayce responded smugly. On cue, his balance betrayed him anew as his chair tilted dangerously back. With a startled curse, he flung his hands toward the edge of the table. Viktor snickered, entirely too pleased with himself. “Fuck off,” Jayce threw his way with a smile.

 

They worked for another hour, the lab silent except for that voice, echoing anytime Viktor retested the sensors. Jayce, however, had completely abandoned his task.

 

“God, I'm so bored,” he groaned loudly into the room.

 

Jayce stretched his arms above his head as his eyes slithered their way onto Viktor, who was wearing a burgundy fluffy sweater that presented an inviting texture to Jayce's curious fingers.

 

“Tell me something I don't know about you.”

 

Viktor sighed and gave him a look. “So, not only am I supposed to work, but I’m also to be your personal jester, now?”

 

“You're a smart man,” Jayce shrugged, an impish glint in his eye. “I'm sure you can multitask”. 

 

“As much as I'm sure you can entertain yourself.”

 

“Come on,” he whined, propping his feet up in the corner of the desk. When silence was the only response, Jayce widened his hazel eyes and pushed out his lower lip ever so slightly. “I am dying over here.”  

 

Viktor sighed, staring ahead for a moment.

 

“You go first.”

 

Jayce grinned, always happy to see Viktor relent. “I never know where I leave my stuff; it always disappears right under my nose.” 

 

Viktor gave him a deadpan stare. “I thought you said things we don't know.” 

 

Jayce rolled his eyes and searched for another tidbit of information in his brain.

 

“Fine, how about… My first kiss. I was nine years old and I gave it to Sandy Pons. We were playing house and she told me that because I was her husband, it was mandatory.”

 

Viktor chuckled. “She sounds like a ruthless tyrant.”  

 

Jayce gave him a sobering look. “She was.” 

 

“Did you enjoy it?” 

 

“No,” Jayce confessed with a laugh. “It was wet and weird. I ended up running away so she wouldn’t ask me to do it again.” 

 

Viktor chortled openly this time, and Jayce felt something begin to melt in his chest. Something that had been coiled tight since his last conversation with Dr. Hanne. He wanted more of that genuine and unrestrained sound coming out of Viktor. 

 

“Sandy Pons,” Viktor repeated under his breath, his lips curving upwards with a shake of his head. “Turning the Jayce Talis into a fugitive.” 

 

“To say the least,” Jayce grinned. He gestured with his chin. “Your turn.” 

 

Viktor was quiet as he pondered, and Jayce let him think in peace. 

 

“Mine was with my college professor. I kept correcting him in class, and when he called me into his office, well… Let's just say he found a very efficient way to shut me up.”

 

Jayce's jaw had dropped dramatically. 

 

“That is wrong .”

 

Viktor smirked. “It felt wrong, too.” 

 

Jayce sniggered. “How does one even go about something like that?” He asked nonchalantly, resting his hands behind his head as he stared forward.

 

Viktor's brow quirked mockingly. "Is this a 'birds and the bees' conversation? Should I pull out some diagrams for you?" 

 

"God, no– not that, you idiot." Jayce was still smiling. He lowered his voice as if he were sharing a secret. "I meant– doing it with a professor ." 

 

Viktor's mouth unfurled into the most intoxicating, knowing smile– it looked utterly delighted at something Jayce was not yet privy to. 

 

"Jayce." 

 

"Viktor."

 

"You would be so inclined to fuck your professors, wouldn't you?" 

 

Jayce gaped. "Wait– what?! No! No, no–" 

 

But it was too late. Viktor was cackling and Jayce couldn't quite understand why, yet somehow he still found it embarrassingly amusing. 

 

"Come on," Viktor pleaded after clearing his throat. "Look me in the eye and tell me you weren't the type of fourteen-year-old to crush on his math teacher." Golden eyes were pinning him in place and Jayce found himself wanting to squirm away from that gleeful, invisible grip. "Go on." 

 

Jayce was pressing his lips together, trying his hardest not to grin. "I–" He breathed in sharply. "Listen."

 

At the tone of negotiation, Viktor burst out laughing, causing him to cough for a moment, before returning once more to his filterless joy. One that entirely melted any concern Jayce might have been harbouring throughout the day.

 

Jayce couldn't hold his grin from taking over anymore. He leaned forward. " Listen, " he repeated stubbornly. "Those thoughts are between me and the almighty." 

 

Viktor released the clutch of his stomach, clicking his mouse with a satiated sigh. "What was her name? I'm sure you're secretly dying to tell me." 

 

There was a flash of a memory and Jayce felt a compulsion to change the subject. 

 

"Na, na," he corrected with a mocking tone. "We were talking about you and your academic ventures." 

 

"What's there more to say?" Viktor shrugged. 

 

"Weren't you scared of getting caught? Expelled? Or worse– having the student body find out?!" He was feeling his anxiety rise with every question.

 

Of course, it would be Viktor to do something so secretly fearless. He lowered his voice in genuine inquiry. "Was it worth the thrill?" 

 

Viktor made a low humming sound. "Not really," he admitted. "It was mostly stupid. But it definitely made my semester much more interesting at the time." 

 

Noticing the underlying, faint disappointment, Jayce leaned forward, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Was he an old man?” 

 

His mouth dropped. “Of course not!” Viktor complained with outrage. "Is that your honest opinion of me?!"

 

A new shade of pink decorated Viktor's cheeks. As expected, it only stirred Jayce on. 

 

"This is a safe space," he assured condescendingly, casually gesturing to their surroundings. "You can be honest." 

 

At the poignant lack of response, Jayce slowly inclined himself further into Viktor's space. His lab partner stilled. Jayce parted his mouth and asked with a whisper, "Was it Heimer?" 

 

Viktor swiftly reached for a pencil and flung it in his direction. Jayce raised his forearms instinctively, howling as the pencil bounced off harmlessly.

 

Viktor was now flush, and Jayce adored the sight. It felt vindicating, somehow. 

 

"You say the most absurd things," Viktor said in a low tone, gaze entirely focused on his screen and a faint smile. "Tell me again why I put up with you?" 

 

Jayce gestured to himself as if that answered the question. "I'm clearly lovable." 

 

Viktor shook his head.  There was a slight pause, where the sounds of his keyboard filled the space. Jayce began counting in his head. 

 

“He was a handsome man," Viktor persisted after merely forty clacks. Jayce smiled triumphantly.

 

“I find that hard to believe if you had to correct him often , ” he teased, knowing Viktor privileged mind over body. 

 

"Eh." It sounded humorously indifferent. “It was just nice to be wanted, I suppose.” 

 

Jayce scoffed. “You're wanted plenty.” 

 

Viktor paused what he was doing entirely and slowly turned his torso in Jayce’s direction, his eyes burning with dangerous curiosity. “Is that so?” He drawled. Jayce felt something in his gut tighten in fear. “And what makes you say that?” 

 

“Dunno. Just a feeling.” Jayce sought anywhere else for his eyes to roam. He added, “You seem to be quite obtuse about these kinds of things.”

 

At the perceived silence, Jayce swiftly stole a glance at Viktor only to find him with an acutely raised eyebrow, his stare pinned on Jayce with an unrelenting demand to know more. Jayce chuckled. “You do realise I walk with you everywhere, right?” 

 

Viktor jiggled his head in confusion. “Okay?” 

 

"See?" Jayce let out a loud belly laugh. “Clueless.” 

 

Viktor was glaring in his direction now. “Explain.” 

 

“If I had a nickel for every person who checks you out, I think I’d be filthy rich by now.” 

 

Viktor had his brows pinched, studying Jayce’s expression with inescapable scrutiny. 

 

“Is that a joke?" 

 

Jayce leaned forward abruptly, bringing the two hovering legs of his chair down with a loud bang. He slapped his hands against his knees simultaneously, causing Viktor to jump. 

 

“Are you kidding me?!” He exclaimed, his voice a mix of surprise and mock indignation.

 

“How could I know if they don't make themselves known?!” Viktor let out with a panicked laugh.

 

“No, absolutely not. This will not stand,” Jayce voiced with a semblance of personal offense. “I will start pointing them out to you. You’ll never question me again.” 

 

Viktor returned to his work, a loop-sided smile on his face. “I find that hard to believe.” 

 

“That you go around giving people ideas ?” 

 

Viktor shot him a pointed look, followed by a sly smirk.

 

"That I'd never question you again, you mumpsimus. Have you met you?" Viktor tilted his head, a genuine smile still curving his mouth as he regarded Jayce give him a comically foul gesture. "Besides," he said, his focus unyielding. "What kind of ideas are you referring to? Do elaborate, Jayce." 

 

Jayce felt his nape begin to warm, embarrassment crawling under the surface layer of his skin.

 

"You know–," he flicked his hand between them, as if that were any sort of explanation. "Ideas." 

 

Viktor giggled, clearly relishing in the switching roles, forcing Jayce to sit on the hot seat, for once. Jayce had a fleeting second of wondering whether his lab partner had been holding back on messing with him. 

 

"I do love it when you're eloquent." 

 

Jayce groaned as he ran a hand down his face. “You’re the worst.” 

 

“You actively chose this,” Viktor reminded him with a light tone. 

 

“To my own dismay,” Jayce conceded in a low tone, leaning back once more. "Alright, what else?” 

 

“Jayce, I need to focus.” 

 

Jayce pouted once again in Viktor’s direction, which only caused him to pinch the bridge of his nose with a long, painfully drawn-out exhale.

 

Decidedly unfazed, Viktor turned back to his keyboard and resumed his work, the click-clack of keys filling the room. The choice to ignore Jayce caused a minuscule pang to flare underneath his sternum.

 

Jayce blew a raspberry, staring at their machine with a poignant lack of interest.

 

“I know Morse code and sign language, does that count for anything?” Viktor inquired after a moment. 

 

Jayce snapped his head toward him with a grin. “Really? How come?” 

 

Viktor gave an unruffled shrug. “I always thought the latter should be a mandatory course. The former, however... I suppose I was bored one day and just happened to fall down that rabbit hole.” 

 

Jayce chuckled, shaking his head. “Of course you did.” 

 

Viktor’s eyes flicked back to the screen with a smile. He sang under his breath, his voice dripping with amusement, “You’re being judgy again.” 

 

Jayce gasped, placing a hand on his chest. “Blasphemy!”

 

Viktor leaned back in his chair, clearly riled despite the playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You know what?” He began, his tone teasing but with a determination beneath it. “You say people look at me, but are you aware of how many ogle you? It’s incessant ." Viktor's nostrils flared. "I have to stare at people having ideas around you on a daily basis. Do you even notice it anymore?" Viktor's exasperation melted into a pointed look, his brow raising in inquiry. "Or are you too busy inspecting the ones staring at me?” 

 

Jayce’s jaw slackened as he studied Viktor. 

 

“Viktor," he said, his name called upon with lighthearted humor. "I am painfully single."

 

His lab partner gave him a dismissive look. “We both know that’s by choice.” 

 

Truth be told, Viktor was right. Jayce hadn’t actively sought anyone out in ages, and that had been its own form of choice. But not because Jayce couldn't see the way people stared at him, which was slightly surprising to discover that Viktor noticed at all. It was mostly because he’d been so engrossed in their new venture that Jayce couldn’t fathom wasting time or devoting any of his energy in getting to know anyone else when he was having the time of his life as it was. 

 

Even less so now, considering their time creating together was excruciatingly limited.

 

Jayce clucked his tongue, turning to lean back in his chair. “I can’t leave you to your own devices, Viktor. God knows what you’d get up to without me.” 

 

Viktor laughed, returning to his clacking. “If you're not there?" He asked in a high-pitched tone, mocking shock coming out of his mouth. Jayce smiled, knowing V was about to say something absurd. 

 

"I have nothing to lose at this point, I'd become a loose cannon. Without you to oh-so-wisely guide my moral compass, who would keep me from turning this crooked academy into a fun little murder mystery?" Viktor smirked, his eyes twinkling in fake delight. But then, his gaze lifted to stare above his screen at nothing in particular, head tilting in genuine consideration. “Maybe I'd start with Heimer, actually. String him up by his moustache in the foyer– that ought to get him off my nerves.” 

 

Jayce side-eyed him as he swayed in his seat, noticing the sliver of truth hidden behind that statement. A wide smile unfurled in his mouth, keeping the joking tone in his warning as he sang, “A little maniacal there, V–” 

 

In perfect timing, the voice in the lab rang out loudly– render complete– and the light flashed red, momentarily blinding Jayce. 

 

Jayce, taken completely off guard, leaned back instinctively to escape the perceived imminent danger. The jolt tipped him too far, causing him to completely lose his balance and theatrically tumble backwards. His arms thrashed wildly as Jayce scrambled for anything to grasp. He failed miserably.

 

There was a loud splat accompanied by an unimpressive oof.

 

Viktor’s laughter burst out like an explosion, loud and unrestrained, filling the entire lab.

 

It wasn’t hard to discern that Viktor had planned that to perfection.

 

Jayce lay there on the floor, blinking up at Viktor, who was guffawing so freely, so openly, that it made Jayce’s heart ache with the joy of it. He couldn’t help but join in, chuckling despite himself.

 

“See? You can multitask.” Jayce grinned from the floor, still sprawled out. “Just didn’t expect you to use your powers for evil.”

 

Viktor cackled harder, throwing his head back in that way Jayce loved. It was swiftly followed by a hand flying to cover his mouth. Jayce felt the urge to lower it, so he could unrestrainedly bask in the sight before him.

 

"Told you I couldn't wait," Viktor ground out eventually, his voice wet and raspy. 

 

Jayce's mind screenshotted the scene before him and tucked it away, just so he could have another unfiltered memory of Viktor to call back on.

 

While he still could.

Notes:

TW: description of health disease, anxiety, internalised ableism

///

poor jayce dude, I cant even imagine realizing my best friend is dying in front of me and I can't do anything about it

I MISSED MY BABIES IN A LAAAAAB

also Jayce not wanting to work and making it everybody elses problem is me, I am him, we are one

Something tells meee that the first professor jayce had a crush on when he was a kid was not a womaaaaaan 👀 but our baby's repressed that shit hahahah

get ready my beautiful humans cause some hardship may be coming our way with V's health deteriorating

I hope you're all doing fantastic!

As always, any feedback and/or overall opinion is not only welcome, but deeply appreciated <3

tooodalooooo!

Chapter 19: (F) For the man with hands of strength and a soul of art.

Summary:

Jayce goes on a quest to find his lab-partner.

Viktor has some realizations

Notes:

TW IN ENDNOTES

henlo beautiful humaaaaaaaaaaaaaans

this chapter was gut-wrenching to write :)

ALSO WOHOO FOR 200 KUDOS :D thanks yall

FLASHBACK

 

A couple of weeks later

 

Despite the fact that Jayce had been in the lab for hours, his work remained utterly untouched. 

 

While he was accustomed to being in the space for several hours before Viktor decided to show up, especially considering Viktor was a night owl, this time... something felt off. 

 

By now, Viktor should have arrived. He often stumbled into the lab around ten A.M., groggy and his hair a sleepy mess at times, but still reliably present.

 

Jayce double-tapped the screen on his phone for what felt like the hundredth time.

 

1:13 P.M. 

 

No sign of Viktor. 

 

He had sent him a message a couple of hours ago, asking him if everything was alright, and whether he was skipping work for the day. 

 

No response. 

 

Concern was slowly weaving into his mind, threading itself deeper into a feeling he couldn't shrug off. The restless tapping of his fingers over his desk was a mechanical sound that slowly hammered into his brain, like the loud ticking of a clock. It was deafening, muffling the usually comforting hums of the lab and robbing his focus. 

 

Maybe Viktor had overslept. Maybe he had gotten caught up in something and lost track of time.

 

But Viktor always answered. Even if it was a single-word reply, he always signaled back somehow.

 

Jayce checked his phone again, the empty screen staring back. The weight in his stomach turned to something heavier and somewhat cold.

 

As Jayce paced restlessly in front of his desk, it dawned on him that he didn’t need to be in the lab to get his work done. He could finish the mock-up for his design anywhere, really.

 

Without much of a second thought, he strode around his desk and gathered his belongings. He then approached Viktor’s work table, grabbed his laptop and sifted through the scattered notes, taking whatever seemed relevant– anything that could keep their work moving forward.

 

Jayce felt a sliver of uncertainty as he hauled Viktor’s personal affairs into his backpack, at the potentiality of overstepping some invisible boundary that hadn’t been discussed despite being obviously assumed. 

 

But the doubt was fleeting. Swinging his bag over his shoulder, Jayce left the lab behind on a mission to find his lab partner.

 

The commute was forty-five minutes, which seemed rather silly considering he was crossing a border. 

 

Before long, Jayce found himself deep in Zaun, standing before a towering building with wide, semi-circular gray steps that led to the front door. A ramp on the side.

 

Jayce raised his finger and pressed the white, worn-out button to Viktor's apartment, the harsh buzz grating his skin. 

 

A beat passed. Two. Jayce shifted on his feet, tucking his clammy hands into the pockets of his jacket. The stiffness in his nape was starting to ache. 

 

After the fourth beat, Jayce glanced around for any wandering eyes and, with a decisive tug on his shirt sleeve, he gave the door a stubborn push.

 

It wouldn’t budge.  

 

He composed himself immediately, staring up at a tree as if assessing a bird as he thought of a new plan.

 

Jayce stood there for a while, even attempted to ring the bell into other apartments and explain his situation before they hung up, keeping him locked outside. 

 

After a small eternity, Jayce was finally startled by a loud, mechanical sound, which was followed by a recognisable click. Relief flooded him, grateful he didn't have to come up with other creative ideas to sneak into the building.

 

With no time to waste, Jayce yanked the door open.

 

He stepped forward blindly only to nearly collide with a petite, red-haired elderly woman on her way out. She blinked up at him, frozen by his forceful maneuver and his towering presence. Guiltily, Jayce swallowed, offered a faint smile in apology as he took a step back and made a casual gesture to invite her to pass. 

 

She nodded her thanks, and Jayce mirrored the gesture in return.

 

Once she was through, he stepped into the building with purpose nipping at his heels, moving as if he belonged there. His pace quickened as he turned sharply down the left corridor, stopping in front of Viktor’s apartment.

 

He raised his hand and knocked.

 

Once. Twice.

 

“Hey, V. It’s me,” he called out. 

 

A droplet of sweat slithered down his spine, causing a furious itch that Jayce was actively attempting to ignore. Now, face to face with Viktor's front door, the quiet dread that had been simmering in his chest all morning was crawling up his throat. 

 

Should he even be here? Maybe he shouldn't be here. Maybe Viktor didn't want him to be here. 

 

There was no answer, regardless.

 

He kept knocking and what were once searching taps turned into urgent bangs against the door.

 

There was a vibration against his thigh. Jayce reached for his phone on instinct.

 

no, the message read. 

 

Jayce exhaled in a rush. This meant Viktor was, in some capacity, conscious. Somewhat safe. Close enough to reach. The pressure in Jayce's chest lightened slightly. 

 

“Why not?” He made no effort to hide the tinge of frustration lacing his tone.

 

Silence. 

 

“V. Just let me in. I can leave right after, I just want to see you. Please.” 

 

Jayce knew he was rambling, but he had no idea what the right thing to say was. All he wished for was to check on his friend and make sure he was alright– everything else felt rather irrelevant.

 

After a couple of minutes, he got a new message.

 

open

 

Tentatively, Jayce’s trembling hand reached for the handle and turned it.

 

A small give. 

 

The mint-colored door creaked as it made way, prompting Jayce to step inside and lock up behind him. 

 

The apartment was both cramped, yet somehow open. There was a large window, positioned directly across from the door, bathing the area in sunlight. Near the window sat a small table and chair. 

 

The image came without effort: Viktor, lounging, streaming cup of coffee in hand, chin tilted towards that stretching heat, eyes deliciously closed. 

 

Jayce felt contaged by the warmth pouring from that image. 

 

But other than that, there wasn't much to it: one deep blue couch facing a disconnected television, a coffee table in between. The kitchen was tucked away in the far right corner of the room. And along the wall across from the TV, there were two white doors: One was wide open, revealing the bathroom, while the other was slightly ajar. 

 

Jayce removed his shoes and approached the latter, rapping soft knocks on it.

 

“Hey, V. Can I come in?” 

 

The only response was silence. 

 

Shifting his weight, Jayce wasn't entirely certain how to proceed. His gaze lingered on the door, waiting for any go-ahead.

 

None came.

 

“I’m coming in,” he called out, his voice steady despite the knot in his stomach. Yes, it could be interpreted as an invasion of privacy, and yet Jayce thought it unthinkable to dismiss the undeniable pull from beyond that door.

 

Jayce was met with a small room, one that was mostly overtaken by a large bed. There was another large window to the left, and an embedded closet to the right. 

 

Curled on his side, Viktor lay motionless. A frame frozen in time.

 

Jayce’s gut tightened at the sight. 

 

The pungent scent of vomit hit him first, before his eyes swiftly glanced to the spew projected across the right side of the bed, seeping into the sheets. Contrasting by nature. 

 

Nausea coiled and his nose crinkled.

 

Viktor's back was turned to the mess, and Jayce’s legs began to move of their own accord. They rounded the furniture and kneeled in the narrow gap between the bed and the wall, eyes searching the familiar face that was now before him. 

 

Jayce's chest squeezed as he studied his friend: the frightening paleness of his skin, the hollowness of his cheeks, the recent gauntness found in his figure. The traces of sickness clinging to his hair and the corners of his mouth. Jayce made an effort to swallow the tightness in his throat.

 

Viktor kept his eyes tightly shut. 

 

“V?” Jayce murmured softly. 

 

There was a slight flicker in his eyelids, as if Jayce's voice had been a confirmation he'd been praying not to hear. Even the act of purposefully shutting his lids seemed effortful. 

 

And it made sense in Jayce’s mind, why Viktor did not want to acknowledge being perceived like this. If the man was allergic to being seen in vulnerable lights, Jayce wondered if this was as vulnerable as it got.

  

The rebel strands sticking to Viktor’s forehead were bothering Jayce, picturing how that dampness might be another source of unwanted stimuli. As he lifted his digits and softly swept the hair aside, Jayce noted the slight tremor behind Viktor’s eyelids, as well as the quiver in his lower lip. It was as if the gesture pained him.

 

But it wasn't pain. It was more like… 

 

Oh. 

 

Viktor was mortified.

 

“It's okay,” Jayce instinctively whispered, tone soothing. 

 

Slowly, he placed his hand on the mattress. When there was no protest–and with tortuous hesitation–his knuckle gave a tentative brush against the back of Viktor’s hand.

 

A shaky breath escaped Viktor’s lips.

 

“I’m gonna need you to look at me, V,” Jayce murmured softly. 

 

Viktor’s lips pressed together in a faint, reluctant line. His eyes remained tightly shut.

 

“You’re safe with me,” Jayce reassured, his voice thick with tenderness. His knuckle grazed against cool skin once more, a stampede of goosebumps crawling up his forearm at the low temperature. “You always are.” 

 

The quivering deepened and Jayce wished, more than anything, to help. 

 

After a heavy pause, he simply breathed, “Please.” 

 

At last, Viktor cracked one eye open, squinting against the harsh light coming from the window. Jayce released a quiet breath of relief as the tiniest sliver of his pupil met his gaze.

 

Jayce smiled softly at his friend. “Hi.”

 

Viktor blinked slowly in his direction, opening both eyes. Then, with the faintest of movements, he nudged the back of his hand closer to Jayce’s joint, a silent sign of recognition.

 

The light reached into his eyes, absorbing what they had been deprived of, and caushing a flicker of gold to shine from within.

 

“Can you speak?” Jayce asked him.

 

Viktor merely stared at him.

 

Jayce hummed softly. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. One blink means ‘no’, two blinks means ‘yes'. Can you do that for me?” 

 

Viktor kept his attention pinned on him for a long pause. The silence was palpable with Jayce's hopeful expectation.

 

Then, two slow blinks.

 

Jayce’s face lit up with a broad smile. “Good, okay, great. You’re doing it. Alright. Are you in immediate danger?” 

 

One blink. No.

 

“Should we be going to the emergency room?” 

 

One blink. 

 

“Are you being stubborn about it?” 

 

A single wink. 

 

Jayce let out a soft laugh, his tension easing slightly. “Does that mean yes and no?” 

 

Two blinks. 

 

“Should I notify Dr. Hanne?” 

 

One blink. 

 

“Do you just need to sleep it off, then?” 

 

Two blinks.

 

“Okay,” Jayce conceded. He narrowed his eyes. “Has this happened before?” 

 

A wink. 

 

Jayce considered for a moment, trying to decipher the code. Maybe Viktor had been here at some point– too exhausted to get up, but never this bad.

 

He hummed in understanding, focusing on the details.

 

“Are your lungs burning?” 

 

Viktor’s glazed eyes drifted back toward him, a moment layered in a heavy stillness. He blinked twice.

 

“Your throat?”

 

Two blinks. 

 

“Your head?” 

 

Two blinks. 

 

Jayce sighed, the weight of the situation pressing in on him. It seemed like everything hurt.

 

“Will you let me take you to the doctor if you’re not better by tonight?” 

 

One blink.

 

“Fine,” Jayce agreed, his voice taking on a firmer tone. “Tomorrow morning then. If you’re not better by tomorrow morning, I’m dragging you– even if I have to.”

 

Viktor studied him closely, but without the usual sharpness or playful defiance. Eventually, he agreed with two consecutive blinks.

 

“Okay, good, we’re negotiating. This is working great.” Jayce carefully analysed Viktor’s expression, trying to piece together more of what was happening. “Have you taken any meds?”

 

A wink. 

 

Jayce’s gaze flickered between Viktor and the spew behind him. After a moment, he ventured, “You threw them up?” 

 

Two blinks. 

 

“I see,” Jayce mused. “Do you think you can eat any solids?” 

 

One blink. 

 

“Okay, you’re doing great, V.” Jayce's fingers reached once again to brush away a lone strand of hair. The back of his knuckles grazed Viktor's forehead, discreetly checking his temperature. 

 

Viktor shivered slightly, and Jayce made a mental note to add more blankets whenever he remade the bed. 

 

The lack of warmth surprised him, considering Viktor had been clearly sweating. Jayce retrieved his hand and laid it to rest besides Viktor’s with a quiet, tight exhale. Unsure, he found Viktor's vacant gaze once more.

 

“I want to stay,” Jayce murmured earnestly. “Please, let me?” 

 

His eyes shut delicately, like the rupturing of a wave, pulling his emotions inward.

 

Jayce braced himself, his heart galloping in an echo chamber inside his ribcage. 

 

Then, with the subtlest of movements, Viktor’s own knuckle slid between his fingers in the most silent of acknowledgements. Jayce's heart lurched, unnacustomed to the delicacy behind such a minimal act. 

 

Especially, coming from Viktor.

 

When he finally opened his eyes, they were swollen with a tempest of emotions that Jayce would have no idea how to begin to pick apart. it was inconceivably loud in the absence of any other sound. 

 

Then, two meaningful blinks. Yes.

 

The second closing of his lids caused a tear to swell and spill from his left eye, tumbling over the bridge of his nose. Jayce softly caught it with his forefinger, keeping it from falling into the abyss.

 

“It's okay, V,” he whispered thickly. “It's a lot for one person to carry.” 

 

Jayce kept Viktor’s knuckle hostage between his own, offering a tender press in reassurance. “I'm happy to be here, alright?”

 

Viktor didn’t waste any time in giving him an unsure wink. 

 

Jayce let out a hearty laugh. “You might feel conflicted about it, but I am not.” 

Reclining onto the balls of his feet, Jayce allowed a quiet intensity to seep through him as he met Viktor’s exhausted gaze. 

 

“Here’s how this is going to go,” Jayce began, voice low but unwavering. “I need you to shut off your brain for me, okay? I know you’re not used to that, but I am going to need you to trust me; it will only get in the way. And we both know how much you despise inefficiency.” Jayce smiled softly. He squeezed Viktor’s resting knuckle between his fingers, ensuring that he made note of his sharpened tone. “You listen to me, and you listen to me very carefully: I am here because I want to. Anything I do, it will be because I want to.” Jayce gave him an assertive look. “It is my choice. If you start getting intrusive thoughts, you suffocate them. I don’t care, and neither should you. Understood?” 

 

Viktor’s eyes widened slightly, still pinned to Jayce’s. His gaze lingered, sluggishly searching for any sign of disingenuousness, attempting to make sense of something he probably hadn’t expected. Then, after a beat– two blinks.

 

Jayce smiled. “Okay, good. Firstly, we’re going to wash your hair. I’ll grab a chair so you can lean under the faucet. Then, I’ll change your sheets and get you something to eat. And then, and only then, are you allowed to sleep. Sound good?” 

 

Two blinks. 

 

“Good.” Jayce roamed his eyes over his festures for a moment. “Is my talking too much for you right now?”

 

A wink. 

 

“Got it. I’ll keep it to a minimum.” His voice softened. “If you want conversation, just give me a couple of intertwined winks. Same thing if I’m talking too much and you need quiet.” 

 

Two blinks.  

 

"Stay put."

 

Jayce stood, walked out and bee-lined straight to the chair by the window in the living room. He carried it to the bathroom and followed by letting the water run as it warmed. In the meantime, Jayce folded one of the smaller towels into a comfortable roll, and placed it around the rim of the sink. 

 

Once satisfied with the temperature, Jayce turned off the water and rolled up his sleeves as he strolled back into the bedroom. 

 

Viktor hadn’t moved an inch. His chest barely rose and fell but as Jayce approached, one eye dragged open, slack and heavy. 

 

Jayce couldn’t bear to see him like this. His friend, usually crackling with life and vibrancy, now dimmed before him like a candle burned too low. Still, Jayce made sure not to show any of those emotions in his expression, expeditiously tucking them inside himself for a later time. 

 

“I’m going to pick you up now,” Jayce warned.

 

A flicker of trepidation emerged.

 

Jayce crossed his arms over his chest, tilting his lips upward– patient and steady. “What did we say about intrusive thoughts?” Viktor wavered. “Pluck them out, V,” Jayce commanded, a thread of care interlacing every word.

 

Viktor’s pupils searched Jayce’s peer, moving his attention from one eye to the other, quietly struggling. When he found nothing but absolute resolution staring back, he finally exhaled a slow, weary breath.

 

Two sluggish blinks.

 

“Good,” Jayce murmured. “Well done.”

 

Carefully, he pulled back the covers on Viktor’s frame. It was slightly shivering, his body curled in on itself beneath a pair of forest green sweats and thick socks. Jayce hesitated only for a second before he pressed down on the mattress, his hands careful yet assured, as they slid beneath Viktor’s knees and torso, so as to not cause any unnecessary, additional discomfort.

 

Gently, Jayce drew him close in one smooth motion and tucked him into his chest as he stood to his full height. Viktor fit against Jayce naturally. 

 

Viktor nestled against him, a soft exhale escaping his lips as his fingers instinctively curled inside the folds between the buttons of Jayce’s shirt. Viktor's gelid touch pressed against his skin, and the contrast sent a rush through Jayce, like a slow thaw of a bitter cold.

 

“God, you’re freezing, V,” he murmured. Viktor’s fingers started to unfurl. “No," Jayce rushed to say, stopping him before he could slip away. "Keep them there. We need to warm you up.” 

 

It unsettled Jayce, the way Viktor’s frame felt smaller in his arms than it should. Or the fact that his fingers curled around his lower thigh and almost encased it entirely.

 

He adjusted his grip, pressing Viktor against him just a little closer.

 

The bathroom was filled with steam when Jayce stepped inside. He paused near the door.

 

“Should I sit you in the toilet for a moment before we wash your hair? I can go start lunch while you relieve yourself,” Jayce added, keeping his tone as casual as possible. 

 

Viktor let out a stifled sound, an irrefutable muffled strain. Something in Jayce’s chest gave way at the mere sound of it, cracking under the weight of Viktor’s battle against his fierce independence.

 

“It’s okay,” Jayce murmured. “You’re human, remember? You have needs. I have them too,” he babbled incoherently. His voice was meant to be soothing, even as the words tumbled out unsteadily. He took a slow breath, grounding himself, then peered down at his friend with a new purpose. “Push those thoughts away, V,” he guided. “Just tell me yes or no.” 

 

After a moment, Viktor softly tapped his finger twice on Jayce’s chest. 

 

“Okay, here we go.” 

 

With careful movements, Jayce lowered him onto the toilet. Viktor’s spine curled into itself immediately. Once he was seated securely, Jayce turned off the tab and gently gripped Viktor’s hand. He placed it on the sink, so he would have somewhere to support himself while he lowered his pants.

 

“You’re okay from here?” 

 

Viktor tapped his digit twice against the sink, exhausted but certain. 

 

“Alright, I’ll be back in a minute.”

 

Jayce reached for Viktor’s shoulder, and the feeling of hollowness around his collarbones caused his stomach to clench in concern. 

 

Shedding the thought, Jayce offered a reassuring squeeze before stepping out, mind already jumping to the next task. He made quick work of stripping the bed, grateful for the protective layer beneath the sheets. Jayce was able to scrub that one clean with ease. 

 

He bundled the dirty sheets inside a plastic bag to secure for later washing, folded into each other so as not to spill any of the contents within. With just as much immediacy, he cracked open the window to welcome a small breeze into the room. Jayce took out his phone and was ordering several soups to Viktor’s address when the sound of flushing rang through the apartment.

 

Jayce made his way back to the bathroom. He knocked and waited until he heard a nail click twice against porcelain, confirming his unspoken question. 

 

Gently, Jayce pushed the door open and stepped inside to find Viktor sitting still, completely hunched over. Viktor’s head was bowed, fatigue mercilessly pulling at his frame as his heavy breaths filled the bathroom.

 

It seemed the simple act of human nature had taken every last bit of energy from him.

 

The rasp in his pants triggered a wet cough, and Jayce was there in an instant to rub his back. 

 

“Let’s get you set up,” Jayce said once it died down, keeping his voice low.

 

After giving the chair by the sink a quick adjustment, Jayce turned the faucet on again. Steam curled into the air, and Jayce was secretly hoping it would help soften the chill that clung to Viktor’s skin.

 

Careful in his movement, Jayce bent down with his arms outstretched. Viktor’s arm wrapped around the back of his neck, and that's all the encouragement Jayce needed to pull the rest of his body and firmly tuck it into his chest anew. 

 

Jayce watchfully lowered him onto the chair, and as Viktor shifted to find an acceptable angle, a heavy sigh fled out of him.

 

“Lean back for me.” Jayce attempted to sound nurturing as he guided Viktor, helping him lean on the awaiting rolled-up towel so as not to cause any further strain.

 

There was a laboured breath as Viktor’s body gave in to Jayce’s instructions, heavy-lidded amber eyes locking onto his, following. 

 

A silent kind of trust settled between them.

 

Jayce submerged a piece of toilet paper and softly padded the corners of Viktor’s mouth, swiping them with feathery touches. Viktor followed his every move with an intensity that made Jayce’s throat bob.

 

“There.” Jayce tossed the paper aside. Viktor’s gaze was travelling over every inch of Jayce’s face, dim yet simultaneously awake. Jayce wondered if he was scanning for any signs of disgust, but he felt none, so he simply continued to work. “Your hair is next."

 

Viktor didn’t blink this time. He simply let Jayce take the lead.

 

Jayce filled a glass with warm water and carefully poured it over Viktor’s scalp. The weight of the liquid coaxed Viktor’s curls to relax and slick back, the dampness seeping into his hair with a soft sigh. The vomit followed the current and descended into the drain. Jayce repeated the action, fingers aiding the spew disentangle from the clumped strands until the worst of it went.

 

Viktor was completely immobile except for his eyes. They were locked to Jayce’s every move, despite the heavy enervation behind that vacant intensity. The kind that felt like an analysing caress, unobstructedly noting every detail from afar to keep some semblance of control. Or so Jayce imagined. 

 

There was a faint timidness curling under Jayce’s skin at that unwavering attention, his pulse picking up in slight fear of being so closely perceived under the weight of Viktor’s unbreaking stare. 

 

“Temperature okay?” Jayce asked, his voice barely above a whisper. 

 

Two blinks.

 

Jayce reached for the shampoo in the tub, warming a dollop in his hands before he gently massaged it into Viktor’s scalp. 

 

His fingers moved with deliberate tenderness, pressing into the base of Viktor’s skull as the lather built. Every motion was soft and careful, like he was trying to simultaneously ease away the weight of everything pressing down on his dear friend.

 

Viktor’s shoulders, once tense, seemed to soften under Jayce’s touch, and a quiet, barely perceptible exhale flew out of him. Viktor’s body relaxed into the caress, a little more each time, until his eyes finally fluttered shut in surrender to the moment.

 

Jayce focused on the task at hand, trying to avoid any fussing, but merely providing a quiet act of care, instead. Yet the urge to check whether Viktor was okay was impossible to resist. He found himself glancing down at Viktor's face, scrutinising the subtle shades etched beneath his eyes.

 

The rhythm of his hands became predictable as he coaxed his fingers through the back of his head, the sides, the top. He brushed his soap-coated fingers in the nook behind his ears, which granted him a tilting of Viktor’s lips. 

 

Jayce took advantage of the comfortable silence between them to continue stealing glances at his friend’s peaceful expression: At the solid mole under his eye. At this straight nose and slicing jawline. He was still looking feeble and pale, yet somehow more like himself than when Jayce had first come in. 

 

Jayce continued to massage his scalp and felt his own shoulders relax at the sight of his lab partner leaning into him and feeling better for it.

 

A deep sigh brought Jayce back to the present, time slipping away as he’d immersed himself in the task at hand. The palpable relief in that sound made Jayce’s stomach tighten. 

 

Maybe it was a small thing… but it made Jayce feel like he was doing something good. Something of value, something that actually mattered. 

 

Viktor cracked open an eye to find Jayce's unavoidable soft grin, which caused an amused, yet sharp, exhale to come out of Viktor’s nose as he closed his lid anew. The corners of his lips tilted upwards and Jayce wanted to drown in their curve out of sheer relief. 

 

Once he covered every surface, he poured water over Viktor’s silky hair, tenderly rinsing out the soap. When it was time to dry his hair, Jayce asked Viktor to straighten. It became clear that even such a menial task demanded far more energy than it should, so Jayce kept his palm over the back of Viktor’s head, silently supporting his ascent. 

 

Jayce reached for the towel hanging behind the bathroom door and draped it over Viktor in one swift move, covering him entirely in soft fabric. Jayce stepped closer, positioning himself between Viktor’s open knees.

 

“This is how you look most handsome, by the way,” Jayce teased, his voice light as he began rubbing the towel against Viktor's hair. He chuckled to himself. 

 

A minuscule, soft sensation began to tickle the skin right above Jayce’s knee. Curious, he glanced down, only to find Viktor’s forefinger and middle finger softly searching the fabric of his jeans. 

 

The touch was a sort of question, but it was there– the quiet request for connection. 

 

Instinctively, Jayce neared his knee to save Viktor the effort of having to reach out when he clearly had no energy left to spare. The subtle shift in Viktor’s posture–a tiny recline of surprise–faded quickly into a sense of ease, and his fingers moved to pinch the fabric between his knuckles.

 

The contact remained, like a quiet anchor between them. 

 

Midway through the process of drying out his hair, the doorbell rang, sharply slicing through the air and interrupting their comfortable silence.  Viktor jolted.

 

Which prompted Jayce to snicker. “It’s just lunch,” he assured. “I’ll be back in a jiffy.” 

 

He left the bags of food on the kitchen counter and returned to the bathroom, finding his friend exactly as he’d left him: with a towel comically draped over his frame. Viktor resembled an aesthetically inspired bathroom ghost, which made Jayce want to laugh. 

 

As Jayce approached, the fingers that had been resting against Viktor’s knee instinctively twitched. Without a need for further clarification, Jayce announced his presence by settling between Viktor’s open knees anew. Before long, that tickling graze was back as Viktor’s fingers roamed, quietly searching, until they recognised a familiar fold and settled.

 

Jayce smiled softly at the precious gesture. 

 

Eventually, Jayce announced, “I’m going to move you to the couch now.” 

 

Viktor’s response came in the form of two tentative taps against his low, inner thigh.

 

Jayce bent down, and as he had before, he scooped Viktor and pressed him to his chest. He left the towel on his head and was careful as he crossed the threshold of the bathroom door. 

 

He deposited Viktor carefully on the stern surface of his couch and lifted the towel so Viktor’s face could peek through. 

 

Jayce’s eyes softened. “Hey.” 

 

Viktor’s lips curved upwards with a tremble. “Hi,” he tried, his voice hoarse. 

 

Jayce grinned. “I never expected to say this but–” he began to cause friction between the towel and his scalp once more, causing Viktor to adopt a small glare. Which only broadened Jayce's smile. “–I am so fucking glad to hear you.”  

 

Viktor let out another huff of air through his nose. 

 

After ensuring Viktor would not get a cold from any lingering dampness, Jayce removed the towel and set it aside. 

 

As he observed the final result, he couldn’t help but notice that something was slightly off. He inspected Viktor for a moment longer, brow furrowing in concentration, before realising what was missing. 

 

Jayce reached behind Viktor's right ear, noting his evident tension at the sudden closeness, and twirled a particular patch of hair between his index finger, the motion swift and deliberate.

 

A new curl sprang to life, and Jayce smiled triumphantly. “There we go."

 

Viktor was scowling at him, his eyes unimpressed yet still flickering with something faintly amused beneath that unshakable exhaustion. “We couldn't leave Tabitha behind.” 

 

Jayce stood before having to give any further explanations and brought Viktor his soup, held in a mug with a straw procured from one of the kitchen drawers.

 

“Do you need to lay down or can you hold it?” 

 

Viktor’s arms shook as he attempted to lift them. Jayce brought the cup into his palms instead. 

 

“I’m going to go make your bed. Try to eat if you can.” 

 

Jayce strode into the bedroom and opened the wardrobe on instinct, his hands searching for clean sheets. Once found, he was swift to make the bed, and reminded himself to add a couple of extra blankets to help with Viktor’s prominent shivering. 

 

Once he was done and satisfied, he pivoted toward the door to return to Viktor's side. Jayce noticed then that he'd left the wardrobe doors wide open in his rushed determination. When he reached to close them, something at the bottom of the closet caught his eye.

 

A box, tucked away. Barely noticeable.

 

He stared at Viktor’s cursive handwriting, the delicate swirls and loops shaping Jayce’s name with an elegant precision that seemed so familiar, yet so foreign in the context of the box before him.

 

When Jayce returned to the living room, Viktor had the straw inside his mouth and there was a new comfort to his tired posture. His glazed focus flickered over to Jayce as he re-emerged, giving him a sharp double-take when he recognised what he was carrying.

 

“I’m sorry,” Jayce blurted out, his eyes widening further alongside every word tumbling out of his mouth. “I didn’t mean to invade your privacy, but... my name jumped out at me, and... what is this?”

 

Viktor studied him for a moment. Then, he tiredly patted the couch, inviting Jayce to have a seat. Jayce carried the heavy box with him and settled it between them, folding a knee under himself so he could face his lab partner. Viktor gave the box a brief glance before curtly gesturing toward it with his chin. 

 

Jayce’s fingers trembled slightly as he removed the lid, brushing aside the decorative tissue paper that spilled over the edges. 

 

Beneath it, nestled carefully in the box, was a hammer. A breathtakingly beautiful hammer.

 

And an envelope.

 

Jayce’s eyes immediately watered.

 

“Is this… for me?” He asked Viktor, his voice wobbling with restrained emotion. Viktor’s eyes softened before he blinked twice. 

 

Jayce reached for the hammer, gripping it with shaky fingers. 

 

It wasn’t loud or ostentatious, which was no surprise considering it had been commissioned by Viktor. Yet it still begged to be admired in the way that it was so intentionally created. 

 

The flawless head was Damascus steel, layers upon layers of folded metal forming gorgeous ripples across its surface, resembling water flowing over stone. Each wave in the pattern was exceptionally unique– and it perfectly fitted, just as no two strikes of a hammer ever landed the same.

 

It was heavy, yes, but perfectly weighted, designed for both power and precision. A tool created with a purpose beyond shaping metal, but equally meant for inspired invention.

 

The handle was hand-carved from deep walnut, its surface polished to a smooth finish. The curves fit Jayce's grip as though the wood had somehow learned the shape of his palm before he’d ever touched it. Where his fingers would wrap, the piece seemed to flow naturally with his grasp. 

 

At the very base of the handle, there were two letters carved in cursive: JT

 

Jayce was in a state of shock at the natural feel of such a wonderous piece in his hands. He wasn’t quite comprehending how the hammer could be both tender and powerful. Or how Viktor could have guessed with such aching precision what would best fit Jayce.

 

Inside the box, beside the envelope, there was also a bag with what seemed to be hundreds of rice-sized microchips. 

 

Jayce shook his head in confusion as he reached for the envelope, carefully peeling it open as he retrieved the note from within.

 

For the man with hands of strength and a soul of art,

May this hammer serve as an instrument of your vision, a bridge between thought and creation. May it move as effortlessly as your creativity, shaping the world with that brimming ingenuity you so freely offer.

Your craft is more than metal and fire– it is a testament to a beauty only you can bring to life. 

Let no one, least of all yourself, forget that.

Only the finest, for one who deserves nothing less,

V.

 

The soft brush of fingers against his knee startled Jayce back into the present. His gaze shifted quickly from Viktor's fingers to the quiet intensity in that honey awaiting him, mutedly glimmering with unspoken concern.

 

It wasn't until that moment that Jayce realized the tear that had quietly streaked down his cheek.

 

“I–” 

 

Silence filled his windpipe and suffocated any words that could have possibly come out. 

 

Viktor slowly sagged against the furniture, silently observing Jayce. With another nod of his chin, he gestured towards the hammer with transparent curiosity. 

 

Jayce glanced at the powerful tool in his hand and, with practiced ease and precision, he spun it.

 

The hammer gracefully glided through the air before returning to his intended grip in one fluid motion, molding to Jayce's directive as if it were an extension of his body and will.

 

He let out a surprised huff. Jayce looked back at Viktor, an impressed smile cracking through his lips. “It feels like it was made for me,” Jayce breathed, a response to Viktor's silent question.

 

Viktor gave him a modest tilt of his lips as if to say it was.  

 

The night of New Year’s Eve replayed in Jayce’s memory, the same conversation coming to pass, except with their roles reversed. Jayce chuckled through his tears. “How?” He asked with a certain befuddlement. 

 

“You sleep like the dead,” Viktor whispered as a form of explanation, reminding him of his own words despite the evident strain caused by speech. 

 

Jayce laughed freely at the thought of Viktor tracing his palms and the harsh curves of his hand while he was utterly unconscious. He wished he could have seen it. 

 

Viktor tugged on the fold of his jeans once more, as if reading in Jayce’s posture the desperation to embrace him. Jayce immediately leaned forward and circled his arms around him, pressing Viktor against him whilst trying not to harm him with the intensity of the emotions that were surging through his body. Viktor did not have the strength to hug him back, but Jayce felt Viktor’s palm softly resting on his knee, the sentiment returned just the same.

 

“I don’t think thank you will ever do justice to what this means to me.” 

 

The truth behind it all was that, yes, the gift was beyond anything Jayce had ever been on the receiving end of. It was as if Viktor had seen through him, beyond the bulky exterior and into the mellow at his core. 

 

But what had shattered Jayce beyond recognition was the note. 

 

It was undeniable proof that somebody believed in him. In his ideas, in his craft, in his abilities, in his vision and promise.

 

Not just somebody– Viktor. The smartest man he'd ever met.

 

Viktor, almost casually, saw in Jayce the person he’d always dreamed he could become. 

 

In that moment, Jayce fully understood that a compliment from Viktor–especially considering how seldomly he offered them–, as well as his faith in him, were worth a thousand gifts combined.

 

He barked out a laugh as he remembered the chips in the box, wiping his tears away as he retreated from Viktor’s personal space.

 

“And what’s this for, you nerd?” Jayce asked with a broad smile.

 

Viktor gestured towards the note with a nudge of his head. Jayce, curious, turned the page and saw more of his delicate scrawl. 

 

PS

I’ve created an app to help you keep track of your belongings. All you need to do is remove the film from the microchip and stick it to whatever you’re afraid to lose. The app will map its whereabouts. 

Label each one you use so you know what you’re looking for, you twit.

The app is fully encrypted– only you’ll have access to it. It's under the name ‘IMHERETALIS’. 

Password: 78hpqKb610Uawp495g!

There are two hundred chips in the bag. Below is the name and address of the store that made them, in case you ever need more.

 

Jayce’s laughter erupted, manic and wild. His whole body opened in search of Viktor's, throwing his arms around him as the shockwaves of his joy electrified the touch between them. 

 

“I can’t believe you,” he grinned, pressing Viktor tightly against him. Begrudgingly, Jayce eventually retreated, eyes landing on Viktor’s mouth, barely curled up yet just as genuine. “These are the best gifts I’ve ever gotten. You’re a genius.” 

 

Despite the exhaustion, Viktor still rolled his eyes and blinked twice as if to say I know. 

 

“An insufferable genius,” Jayce added with a smirk at the sight of his response. “But a genius, nonetheless.” 

 

Jayce set the box with his presents on the coffee table with a broad smile still etched on his face. When he turned to adress Viktor, Jayce noted how his body had sagged further down, and how his eyes were drooping despite his clear efforts to keep them open and stay in this moment with him.

 

Reality struck, bringing Jayce back to reality with a sobering punch to his gut. He leaned forward, peeking into Viktor's mug to find half of its content untouched. 

 

“Come on,” Jayce encouraged with a whisper, carefully peeling the mug from Viktor’s grip and setting it on the coffee table as well. “Let’s get you to bed.” 

 

With newfound practiced ease, he stood and enveloped Viktor’s body into his arms. There was no resistance; Viktor allowed Jayce to hoist him and surrendered to his gentle grasp. 

 

Softly, Jayce eased Viktor under the fresh, crisp sheets, his hands moving with careful precision to ensure his comfort. He then pulled two blankets over him. Jayce allowed himself to tuck him in, fulfilling an itch he’d been ignoring since he’d first seen his lab partner fall asleep atop his desk. 

 

Viktor already seemed to be drifting between sleep and wakefulness, his breaths slow and shallow. Jayce shut the window and brought him the soup, as well as a new glass of water, and settled them on his nightstand– close enough to be within reach. 

 

“I’ll leave you be,” Jayce murmured as he began to pull away.

 

Viktor’s eyes snapped open, and Jayce froze, his gaze locking onto the alarm radiating from him. After a moment, Viktor gave him a slow blink. No.

 

Jayce kneeled once more in front of the bed and observed his friend, cocking his head.

 

“Would you like me to stay?” Jayce’s voice was low, attempting to conceal the vulnerability tucked underneath. Viktor’s molten gaze met his, and it softened with a touch of uncertainty. After a long moment, he blinked twice.  

 

Jayce couldn’t help his smile from blossoming, stretching in his mouth with gentle elation. “Okay,” he whispered. “I’m going to go home to get some clothes, and then I’ll stay until you feel like yourself again or tell me to go. Sound good?” 

 

Viktor agreed. 

 

“I’ll be back, V. Sleep.” 

///

The moment Jayce left his apartment, and despite the debilitating exhaustion, Viktor couldn’t keep the thoughts from looping inside his groggy brain.

 

Viktor did not know what to do with it. This softness, this care, this beautiful man in his life. What he could have possibly done in his wretched existence to deserve it. 

 

Viktor had completely given himself to Jayce’s orders and it had been incredibly relieving. To not have to think for himself, to not have to worry. The constant weight of decision-making being lifted from him, the strain replaced by a strange comfort in letting someone else take control, for once. He’d been too tired to do otherwise. 

 

Somehow, Jayce had jumped through his defenses and gotten to a rotten core that Viktor would have never, in a million years, thought anyone would be allowed to witness. 

 

He was both completely indifferent to the fact and simultaneously disgusted with himself. He never thought someone could look at this version of himself, the one that could not summon the energy to care about anything at all, and still cradle it with kindness. He had never thought that version of himself, so worn-out and hollow, was worthy of any type of gentleness. 

 

And worst of all, in the fog of exhaustion, there had been only one thought endlessly looping in his mind as he stared at Jayce’s features while he gently washed his hair.

 

I am in love with you.

 

I am in love with you. 

 

I am in love with you.

 

It was a fierce melody, rising from the depths of his core, resonating with every heartbeat, echoing in ripples that stretched to encompass his weary soul.

 

Too tired to resist, he’d let it loop endlessly, a quiet mantra in his mind.

 

Viktor had never consciously known love– not until he’d met Jayce. It surprised him to find that the feeling sank into him with unwavering certainty, like in the way particles scatter sunlight in the atmosphere and turn the sky into shades of blue; or in the extraordinary dance of atoms, exchanging electrons in order to give way to a molecule. It was as certain as stars finding their inevitable combustion in their final, brilliant supernovas, polka-dotting the short-ranged blackness of the universe with their final goodbye. 

 

It was beyond theory– it was fact.

 

He wasn’t sure when it had happened. It seemed like only yesterday he was happy to be enjoying a new and exciting friendship in his life.

 

But ever since he’d spent Christmas with Jayce, something had irrevocably changed within him. Ever since he’d kneeled down to take off Viktor’s shoes for the simple sake of his comfort, an act that had elicited the urge to kiss him– of all things. Ever since he’d felt Jayce’s body pressed against his own and realized, for the first time, that he was home. Ever since Jayce was the only person that could easily rip genuine laughter from his chest, bringing infinite heaps of delight whenever he was around, by the simple mere act of existing. 

 

Jayce had taught Viktor trust, unknowingly and without pretense. He'd shown him the hidden treasures of equal partnership. 

 

To his surprise, Viktor had found genuine joy in being alive when he was around Jayce. It had been a rupture of the kind of life he'd always succumbed to– one rooted in survival and forcibly trudging forward.

 

He'd never stopped to look around, to appreciate the beauty naturally blooming without any real purpose; just for the radical act of being.

 

No matter the circumstances, if Jayce was there, Viktor had a deep feeling that things would somehow turn out okay. Nothing mattered when he was present. And simultaneously, everything mattered all the more.

 

Staring at Jayce felt like gazing into the convergence of his past, present, and a future that was slipping away far too quickly.

 

And not because Viktor had any expectations of his feelings being returned. That was frankly none of his business. 

 

But because he would have been happy to have kept a friend like him for life. As they were now, without changing a single thing– it was a living beauty that he hadn’t dreamt about because he could have never conjured the necessary imagination to conceive it.

 

Viktor had never met anyone like Jayce before. He was the kindest, most compassionate, undeniably brilliant human being he’d ever gotten the chance to know. 

 

Having any sliver of his attention, of his protection, it had thawed Viktor’s cynicism to the point where he could no longer deny it. 

 

Jayce’s magnetism drew him in effortlessly, and loving him felt as natural as breathing. It wasn’t a conscious decision– it was an instinct, something Viktor couldn’t fight, even though he hadn’t really tried all that hard.

 

Falling in love with Jayce had been completely inevitable.

 

Viktor had been swallowed by those hazel eyes, by those stunning colors shifting between amber and green and everything in between, depending on how light greeted them. He'd marvelled at the long, thick lashes that framed them. He’d watched as Jayce’s usual neatly combed back hair fell on his forehead, dark strands stretching to caress his complexion as he leaned forward to so delicately wash Viktor’s hair.

 

Viktor had studied the strong lines of his squared jaw, the slight dips in his cheeks that seemed to beckon him closer, begging to be traced by the pads of his fingers. He’d lingered on Jayce’s asymmetrical lips, watching them part as he concentrated, or softly be chewed on as he became absorbed in concrete thought.

 

He’d stared at that blinding grin of his. At the crinkles that erupted in the corners of his eyes, despite Viktor ruining whatever plans he might have had for the day by being in a vegetative state. Still, Jayce had smiled at him, his expression genuine, as if he were truly happy to be in Viktor’s company, despite the circumstances. Because that was the kind of person Jayce was when he chose someone– no real judgement, just full radical acceptance. 

 

Viktor had stared at the small gap between Jayce’s front teeth, a feature he’d grown to adore, and imagined what it would feel like to be consumed by it. The sharpness of his pointed canines peeked through every single time he smiled, and Viktor was helpless to wonder, in a strange cocktail mixed of fascination and longing, what it would feel like if Jayce ever chose to sink them into his throat.

 

Viktor had never wanted anyone to sink their teeth into his throat before. The craving was slightly unsettling.

 

But those dangerous thoughts and panicked realizations were for the confines of his mind, alone.

 

Jayce was the only person Viktor never wanted silence from. He was the one Viktor hoped would never stop speaking, that his voice would never falter, and even then. Viktor had never grown tired of hearing his thoughts, his laughter, his every word, and he couldn’t imagine that feeling ever coming to pass. 

 

In Viktor’s eyes, Jayce embodied a fascinatingly unique mold of perfection. One that fit Jayce, and Jayce alone.

 

All the insecurities, the anxieties, the childishness, the imperfections others might see meant nothing to Viktor. To him, Jayce was eternal: in his idiotic sense of humor, in his ability to see the best out of any situation. In his limitless mind, boundless creativity and infinite curiosity. In his unrelenting care. 

 

And Viktor had allowed himself to take it all in, now that his days were palpably numbered.

 

Jayce had been an unexpected gift. One the universe must have sent his way so he could experience the depth of what it meant to feel, to explore, to be human. To rejoice in it. Even if just… once.

 

It was almost cruel, the irony of it: that he had only tasted a fraction of the purpose humanity could hold–one soaked in unchained cherishment and heartfelt connection–in the swiftly approach of his twilight. 

 

How profoundly unfair that only now, in the midst of his curtain coming to a close, could he confidently state that he knew love. 

 

And yet– 

 

Oh, what luck. What exquisite, heart-wrenching fortune to have experienced it at all.

 

This love wasn’t born only from the way Jayce looked out for Viktor, but from the very essence of who he was: a person who cared with an intensity that consumed everything in its path. It was for anyone and everyone he so chose for himself. 

 

Viktor deeply admired that about him. That he was open to being injured for the sake of experiencing this life to the fullest. That he offered it so freely to any who’d be willing to experience it with him. 

 

And Viktor mourned. He mourned for every human being who would never have the honor of being on the receiving end of such a wondrous thing. Viktor couldn’t help but think that if the world were made up of more people like Jayce, perhaps it wouldn’t be such a horrible place. Perhaps it would be tender and gentle and welcoming. Perhaps it would be worth it. 

 

Most unexpectedly, Viktor was glad. That he could die knowing what it felt like to be seen without fear, to be cared for. As much as he was glad that he would die knowing what it felt like to love someone else in an all-encompassing, earth-shattering, soul-evolving way. 

 

Nobody had to know. It was his secret to keep, his secret to cherish. 

 

Until his last breath, he would soak in Jayce’s sunshine and cling to the moments of warmth he gave Viktor, savoring every fragment of time spent in his presence.

 

And Viktor had no doubt that that would constitute one of the two reasons he would die a happy man.

///

In a stupor–and a bag of dirty laundry in hand–Jayce ordered a ride and felt his own mind float outside his body the moment he was seated. It watched him from above as if he were a passenger in his own consciousness. 

 

With no real recollection of how he’d gotten there, Jayce stood petrified, staring at a wooden door with a golden knocker. 

 

The door swung open, and his mother greeted him with her familiar warmth. "Oh, hi, baby!" she exclaimed, arms opening for an embrace. "I wasn’t ex–"  She cut herself off, smile faltering as she took him in. Her brows immediately furrowed over those watchful eyes. “What’s wrong?” 

 

Jayce swallowed, hard . 

 

"You were right.” 

 

His words wavered and his lip began to quiver the moment his voice broke. Jayce could not keep his feelings in after that; they flooded out of those cracks and into the open with shattering intensity. 

 

Every emotion he’d been keeping in and holding back, he let loose. He felt his face crumple with everything he hadn’t yet had the courage to voice. The bag of dirty laundry slipped from his grip and fell to the ground. 

 

“He’s dying,” he choked out, hands flying to cover his mouth as if he could contain the words rushing out of him, rupturing, his vision blurring completely. A sob ripped through him, uncontrollable before his mother. “He’s dying and I don’t know what to do, ma, he can’t– I don’t– I had to get out, I didn’t want him to see–” 

 

Warmth enveloped him and for once, it didn't reach his core. Steady touches brushed the back of his head and his curled spine, all accompanied by a soft shushing sound that violently ripped another cry out of his throat. 

 

“Oh, my baby. It’s okay. I’m so glad you’re here.” His mother’s voice was loving and soft in his ear. Jayce’s sobs only deepened.

 

“He can’t die.” He stubbornly claimed, breaking down, bawling every emotion out of his eyes. “He can’t die, ma, he can’t, please, please,” Jayce whimpered, his pleading voice desperate and raspy as he clung to her. 

 

She had always been the one to know what to do, how to make everything better. Maybe– maybe, she could help him fix this, too.

 

An hour and a half later, Jayce returned to Viktor’s apartment. He moved quietly, trying not to disturb the fragile calm of the space, and changed into comfortable clothes before settling next to Viktor’s sleeping form. He opened his laptop and let the glow of the screen be his only waking company.

 

As the night wore on, Viktor shifted in his sleep, unconsciously curling closer to Jayce’s side. He smiled softly before returning his attention to his computer. 

 

Jayce spent the rest of the night researching without relent.

Notes:

TW: disease description and someone in bad state, grief

///

welp

we all deserve this kind of love, right? :')

i kind of love that for jayce, this is still completely platonic. it just makes me love him even more, that he wants nothing in turn- he just wants to be there for his friend D:

as much as I love V for loving him quietly, also without wanting anything in turn but him just being in his life, in whatever way he chooses to do so :'(

its sad cause in my docs I had chosen a font for V's handwritting >:( to give it a lil spice. but i forgot it wasnt gonna translate over here HAHA

also you thought v was the only dominant one? >:) HEHEHEHE

Also V using his savings so he can leave jayce something to remember him by D':

anywho, let me know your thoughts if you feel so inclined :') its always a boost of motivation to keep writing, BUT NO PRESSURE YALL, as always

I hope you're all doing fantastic. I am sending you all the positive energy

todaloooooooooooooo

Chapter 20: (F) We’re equal partners, aren’t we?

Summary:

Continuous work on invention. Distinguished innovators competition. After party.

Notes:

TW IN ENDNOTES

henlo gorgeousessssss

This chapter is mostly pining tbh HAHA It is a MONSTER chapter, so brace yourselves. Despite it, if some stuff seems rushed it is because IT WAS, I was eager to move forward in the story.

Once again, thank you SO MUCH for the kindness and warm comments you guys left on the previous chapter. It touched my heart beyond description. And it made me so genuinely giddy to see that so many of you can relate to that kind of cherishment and love. It felt connecting and grounding, and I genuinely can't express enough how much joy y'all bring me anytime you share your thoughts. (as always, no pressure intended in the slightest, just mere appreciation, you're all wonderful)

happy jayvik reading :-)

FLASHBACK

 

Things were looking up.

 

Viktor seemed to be back to his usual self. Perhaps with some increased tiredness in his walk, or slightly darker circles under his eyes, but other than that, he looked to be in high spirits. Which always gave Jayce an enormous boost of energy.

 

In fact, there were moments where Viktor seemed so much like his usual self that Jayce at times forgot about the whole ordeal altogether. His mind slipped into a reality where there was no countdown of doom looming in the background of his every thought. He revelled in the moments where Viktor and Jayce were but two scientists, hungry to create something that hadn’t been done before, longing for the all-consuming thrill of innovation. Regardless of circumstance, that solid foundation flowed effortlessly every time they found themselves in the comfort of a lab– and each other’s company. 

 

The day Viktor had caused Jayce to fall on his ass, they’d finally managed to get the sensors to measure their environment accurately. 

 

They had let loose various toxins in the trial chamber, and by the end of the day, the system had, at long last, reported back flawlessly: air quality, contamination levels, specific pollutants lingering in the direct environment… Basically, every parameter Viktor had programmed it to detect. Which, inevitably, had caused Jayce to erupt with untamable excitement, one that had been quickly met by Viktor’s soft chuckling. 

 

They still had a way to go, but it seemed this machine was slowly coming together. 

 

Jayce, for his part, was just as determined to fix the lingering issues with their hardware.

 

The first real test of the air purification system had ended with the machine casually catching fire.

 

“Shit!” Jayce spat, lunging for the emergency extinguisher.

 

In his rush, his foot caught and his hip slammed into the far edge of Viktor's metal table. The impact sent a jolt through his body, causing him to accidentally clench the trigger. White foam blasted from the nozzle, wildly spraying into the air with unbridled anarchy. 

 

Jayce doubled over with a loud groan, barely registering Viktor’s sharp gasp before his lab partner swiftly hit the emergency shutdown button built into his workstation.

 

A thick cloud of foam flooded the chamber, smothering the flames and snuffing out any immediate danger. The machine sputtered, then fell silent.

 

Jayce stood frozen, feeling momentarily idiotic considering he could not have opened the chamber anyway, unless he wanted to override a numerous variety of safety protocols and poison them both, in the process.

 

The mocking spume settled over various surfaces around him. There was a massive plash streaking over the outer glass of the contamination chamber, languidly bleeding over its surface. A sinking dread coiled in his stomach as his eyes crept up, discovering another splotch of white decorating the ceiling, steadily dripping over his shoulder. 

 

With excruciating slowness, he turned and shared his gape with Viktor, who appeared equally dumbfounded. 

 

A small smile crept up the corners of Jayce’s lips. “This is not an omen,” he declared, ignoring his own stupidity entirely.

 

Viktor’s amused eyes flicked from the frothy ceiling to the nozzle in Jayce’s hand–now absentmindedly aimed in his direction. Just as casually, Viktor slowly raised his palms in surrender, an embodied image of innocent compliance.

 

“If you say so,” Viktor responded with feigned wariness, though the mirth dancing in the twinkle in his eyes betrayed him.

 

With excruciating slowness, Viktor shifted one of his hovering hands to point to his own temple. “You’ve got… a little something… there.” 

 

Jayce hadn’t been able to resist the smirk from shaping his mouth. He calmly set the extinguisher down. 

 

“We’re equal partners, aren’t we?” 

 

Viktor’s mirth dropped at once. “No." His voice was laced with genuine fear this time, all too familiar with Jayce’s tone and wicked intentions. 

 

Jayce was quick to charge towards him, locking him from behind as he rubbed his foam-covered hair into Viktor’s own, smearing it across his sweater. He revelled in the shrieking protests and laughing insults thrown his way– almost as much as he did with the glare he received afterwards, Viktor emerging from the invasion disheveled and poignantly covered in foam.

 

Any opportunity to smudge that ever-so-controlled version of Viktor had to be taken advantage of. 

 

Considering the evident hazard, it was clear the machine’s internal design needed some serious reconfiguration.

 

Eventually, Jayce decided to create two compartments on opposite sides of the machine: one for clean wet wipes and the other for used ones. To ensure proper function, Jayce had changed the internal rod into one that could rotate at a precise speed. This allowed the wet wipes to move naturally as the parts shifted. The wipes took around a week to travel from the clean side to the used side, which, based on Jayce’s calculations, was roughly the right amount of time to replace them.

 

He’d made this change after Viktor had suggested that leaving the same wipes to statically accumulate contamination might undermine the machine’s ability to consistently purify the air over time. It wasn’t quite the same to have air come through filters that were continuously renewing themselves, versus wipes that would stockpile pollution and risk becoming ineffective without timely replacement.

 

It had taken a while to get it to work smoothly, but after no more signs of combustion, they had decided to proceed with their trials.

 

At the moment, they sat in the large lab. Jayce tossed a crumpled paper ball above his head while Viktor read a book regarding the viscous solvent being used on their wipes. For a while, the only sound was the machine, noisily drawing air from the chamber. 

 

Testing air purification had become tedious, considering there was no immediate short-cut to asses any of their changes.

 

“We need to come up with a name for this thing,” Jayce muttered, boredly tossing the paper ball into the air and catching it in his hand.

 

Viktor looked up from his book, softly resting it on his lap as he shifted his focus onto Jayce.  

 

“We do.” 

 

“Any ideas roaming in that brain of yours?” 

 

Viktor pursed his lips. “I’d just assumed we’d name it something like… ‘Pureair’,” he finished with a grimace, clearly unconvinced.  

 

Jayce flashed him a grin. “That sounds like you’re saying ‘puree’.” 

 

Viktor glanced up at the ceiling in thought. “How about… ‘Decontamitech’?” 

 

Jayce burst out laughing. “That’s just as terrible. And a mouthful.” 

 

Viktor glared at him. “Alright, Mr. Masterpiece. You come up with something, then.” 

 

Jayce shrugged. “I figured, with your filthy mind, you would have said something far more horrendous.”

 

“Such as?” 

 

“I don’t know,” Jayce chuckled. “Something like ‘Blowie’.” Viktor raised a brow in silent question. “You know.” Jayce flicked a hand between them in explanation. “Considering it’s a sucking machine and all.” 

 

Viktor stared at him for a beat before laughter erupted out of him, an electric bark that caused Jayce’s insides to buzz. 

 

“ Blowie?!”

 

Jayce sat up, defensive at the tone of incredulity. “I was channeling you !” 

 

“Oh, no, Jayce. You don’t get to pin this on me.” 

 

Jayce covered his face with his hand, hoping to hide the blush that was creeping up his neck. “Forget it.” 

 

“I don’t think I can.” Viktor's genuine self-satisfaction was painfully evident. “In fact, I think that’s exactly what we’re going to call it.” 

 

In blatant disbelief, Jayce’s head turned with excruciating slowness, shock widening his eyes and his already slackened jaw. “You can’t be serious.” 

 

Viktor smirked, already amused by the prospect. “Blowie is the type to spit and swallow.” 

 

Jayce dropped his head to his awaiting palm once more, resigned and comically mortified to have brought this upon himself. He couldn't help the smile on his face, nor the shake of his head. 

 

With how hot-headed he'd been lately, these conversations were the last thing he needed.

 

Jayce dragged his hand down his face, pulling his cheeks with it. “Why do I open my mouth?” 

 

“ Render complete.” Red flooded the room. 

 

Viktor snickered as he set his book aside and rolled towards the computer screen. “You know, I’ve been asking myself that same question since the moment I met you.” 

 

“Ha, ha.” 

 

Jayce stared daggers at their machine as he waited. 

 

“Jayce,” Viktor said with electric stillness after a moment. He raised his eyes to meet Jayce’s, a quiet yet intense demeanor that made Jayce’s attention perk up every single time. “We just purified nine percent of the air in that chamber.” 

 

Jayce sat up in a brisk move. “No way.” 

 

Viktor’s smile broadened. “Yes, way.” 

 

“It’s working?!” 

 

Viktor gave a slight side-to-side tilt of his head. “Eeeeh,” he let out with amused uncertainty. “At nine percent capacity, at least.” 

 

Jayce sprang to a stand. “That’s not zero percent.” 

 

Viktor’s expression widened. “It’s not zero percent,” he agreed.  

 

An ecstatic whoop burst from Jayce, filling the entire lab. He grabbed Viktor’s chair and gave it a triumphant spin, causing Viktor to giggle. 

 

“It’s not zero percent, V!” Jayce repeated with exhilaration, practically bouncing in place. 

 

Every fiber of his being crackled with energy– and it only intensified when he saw that same spark openly reflected in Viktor’s expression, perfectly matching his own. 

 

_ _ _

 

Viktor felt slightly dizzy after the unprompted spin. Jayce, ever-so-observant, pulled Viktor into a tight embrace from where he was standing, instead. 

 

Every time Jayce held Viktor against him, it was like an enveloping joy was swallowing him.

 

Viktor chuckled and patted Jayce’s warm back. 

 

They were actually doing it. 

 

That sentiment seemed to bounce between them, heightening Viktor's every sense with a manic anticipation that he kept reigned in. 

 

Jayce straightened and shifted his gaze toward their invention, suspended in the chamber before them. He crossed his arms.

 

“Fuck, Viktor,” Jayce breathed. He unfurled the most intoxicating smile when he glanced in his direction. “We might just pull this off.” 

 

A surge of adrenaline coursed through Viktor. He felt himself preen.

 

“We just might.” 

/// 

As the weeks progressed, Viktor and Jayce continued refining their design, and the percentage of decontaminated air steadily climbed.

 

To pass the quiet moments between trials, Jayce focused on coming up with new ideas to boost the machine's suction power while minimizing the noise pollution it emitted. Meanwhile, Viktor worked on streamlining his program, making it as easy to access and navigate as possible.

 

But the quiet also invited other, unrelated, trains of thought. 

 

Despite Viktor’s recent recovery, they'd had an appointment to see Dr. Hanne yesterday, in which she'd prescribed a new type of medication. 

 

It was to help with tougher days, only.  

 

In his free time, Jayce had been doing some research of his own. He sent out a quick prayer that Viktor wouldn't bite his head off for bringing up the topic.

 

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

 

Viktor paused for a moment. A surprising, soft smile touched his lips before he continued clacking. “Every time those words come out of your mouth, I fear for my life.” 

 

Jayce gave him an impish smile. "You've survived so far." 

 

Viktor’s head shook, amusedly probing with a heavy sigh. "And somehow, that does not comfort me." 

 

"So, is that a yes or a no?" 

 

Viktor slid his gaze toward him for a moment before he rolled his eyes. "Fire away, as they say."

 

Needing to ground himself, Jayce lowered his legs from where they'd been lounging on the corner of Viktor’s desk. He took a deep breath. 

 

“Have you ever considered… surgery?” Just expressing those words alone caused his heartbeat to quicken, now evidently pulsing against the side of his neck. 

 

The echoing sounds of Viktor's typing ceased, yet his focus remained on his screen. “For your lungs,” Jayce clarified.

 

Silence stretched between them, heavy and charged.

 

Finally, Viktor released a tight exhale.

 

“What kind of surgery?” 

 

Jayce swallowed. “I've been reading about some new medical advances and there’s some solid research behind implants that assist organ function. There's one in particular designed for respiratory issues.” Jayce paused, making an effort to continue his tone of casualness. "Have you looked into it?” 

 

“No.” 

 

Jayce hesitated for a beat before asking, “Would you ever consider it?” 

 

“I don't think so,” Viktor admitted after a long pause. “I don’t find the idea of being cut open only to have my organs tinkered with particularly appealing. Especially to implement artificial components.” Despite not looking at Jayce, he could still feel Viktor’s piercing stare, its intensity pricking needles into his skin. “Do you have any idea how horribly painful it is if your body rejects such a procedure? I think I've had quite enough of that,” he concluded solemnly.

 

Jayce studied his friend for a moment before asking with a small voice, “Not even if it could prolong your life?” 

 

“Careful, now,” Viktor warned, teasing eyes pinned to his screen as a soft smile ghosted over his lips. “It almost sounds like you want me to stick around.” 

 

I do. 

 

Of course I want you to stick around. 

 

Please, stick around.

 

But Jayce couldn't find the words in his tongue.

 

He shook his head instead. “What an unimaginable prospect,” he responded sarcastically, forcing an upward tug of his lips.

 

Viktor snickered as he refocused part of his attention on his work. “And you'd Frankenstein me in the process?” His tone dripped with feigned offense. “I would have never seen this coming, Mr. Talis.” 

 

A genuine laugh escaped from Jayce. “I was secretly hopeful you'd become more tolerable if you were half-machine.” 

 

Viktor smiled. “I see your intentions now, deceiver,” he accused, his eyes gleaming with devilish mirth. “This was never about making the world a better place. This was about finding a guinea pig for your outlandish ideas. Tell me, how many bodies are there buried in your backyard?” Viktor’s honeyed eyes landed on him. He leaned forward with a quirked brow, voice dropping conspiratorially. “Confess.”

 

Jayce had noticed that the more time they spent together, the more Viktor allowed his unfiltered thoughts to roam free– especially the absurd ones. It was as if Jayce were getting to know a younger, more carefree version of the man he'd first met. And he adored discovering just how ridiculous Viktor’s sense of humor could get.

 

“Does that mean you're not volunteering for my guinea pig-related experiments?" Jayce made an effort to keep the cadence of his voice serious, despite the mirth tip-tapping in his chest. He raised a brow in Viktor's direction. "Cause’ that would bring about a serious setback on my current plans.”

 

“Oh, well ,” Viktor let out with dramatic flair, adopting a tone of mock consideration. “I wouldn't want to inconvenience you with my silly sense of autonomy, now would I?” 

 

“My thoughts exactly,” Jayce grinned. “Otherwise, how else am I going to justify all of this invested time?” 

 

“ Render complete. ” The lab was instantly bathed in crimson light.

 

A huff of air left Viktor’s lips as he clicked his mouse. His voice turned into a low drawl, distracted and barely comprehensible. “With such a busy schedule and a negative return on your investment, I imagine with great difficulty. How will you ever recover?” 

 

Before Jayce could respond, Viktor gasped. 

 

“What?” Jayce asked with urgency, despite not moving an inch from his lounging comfort. Viktor’s eyes were scanning the screen at an alarming speed and Jayce gaped at him, too impatient to wait. “What? What, what, what?”

 

Viktor’s lips curled into a slow, triumphant smile. 

 

“We're over fifty percent.” 

 

Jayce’s body lost all sense of structure, melting into the chair before sliding onto the floor.

 

A charming laughter bubbled into the room, amplifying the sensational feeling bursting in his chest. Viktor’s studious expression peeked over the edge of the desk, quietly observing him as he lay sprawled, staring emptily at the ceiling.

 

Jayce could feel Viktor’s tickled gaze pinned on him.

 

“I'm assuming this is a good reaction?” 

 

“It's happening, V,” Jayce murmured in a daze. “It's happening, I am currently living the moment in which it's in the process of happening.”

 

“What is?”

 

“Our success.” 

 

Viktor chuckled. “I see. You turn into a frenzied chipmunk whenever you're elated but if the happiness is too consuming, a philosophical meltdown ensues instead. This is good to know.” 

 

“We’re living our life’s history right now ,” Jayce said, wonder threading through his voice. “How crazy is that?” 

 

“We're living our life’s history at all times,” Viktor corrected with amusement. 

 

Jayce exhaled, his chest light. “I am so happy.” He meant every word, too.

 

Viktor's mouth curved into a warm, genuine smile. “I am so very glad.” 

///

Heimer had accepted the outcome presented for now. He'd confessed to Jayce that he'd already signed them up for the competition after that initial conversation. 

 

Apparently, his only condition had been that they insist that their objective was to get the machine to purify one hundred percent of the air in the room. Viktor had hypothesized that it was more marketable for the Academy, but Jayce couldn’t stomach these sorts of things. Surely, a machine that managed to purify any percentage was better than nothing.

 

Viktor and Jayce spent the following week preparing their presentation, the order in which they would speak. They rehearsed and continued to tweak the machine further to increase the percentage. 

 

Considering Viktor and Jayce wanted to stay for the after-party, they’d booked a room at the hotel where the competition was being held. 

 

Thankfully, his mother had offered them her car so they could transport the machine in one piece. 

 

The ride to the hotel was silent and tense, considering both of them were losing the grip on their sanity. One presentation, a single moment, important enough to shape their future. A small group of people in a room, determining whether or not their dream was feasible. The pressure was definitely on.

 

They checked into their room upon arrival and immediately searched for the area where the competition was being held. 

 

During the hours before their presentation, they rehearsed and relentlessly revised. 

 

When the moment came, their machine already propped on stage, they stood behind the curtains and fidgeted. 

 

“Oh, God,” Jayce groaned in a low voice. “What if the light’s too blinding and I trip over the edge of the stage and faceplant?” 

 

“Stop,” Viktor commanded in a rough voice.

 

“What if I forget everything I’m supposed to say?” 

 

“Jayce.”

 

“What if the machine stops working?” He asked solemnly. "Or catches on fire again?" 

 

Viktor, now a yellowish color, stood expectantly for a second before he turned to a trash can and hurled. 

 

Gaping, Jayce reached forward to draw soothing circles on his back.

 

“Now, please welcome to the stage, Jayce Talis and Viktor Jedlitzka!” 

 

At that, Viktor heaved again. 

 

“ Shit,” Jayce whisper-shouted over the loud clapping. 

 

Someone from the competition rushed in to shove Jayce on stage. He staggered towards the curtains.

 

“No, no, wait, my friend–”

 

“It’s now or never, kid.” 

 

That shut him up. Jayce stared longingly at his lab partner, curled over the can. Viktor threw a quick thumbs-up over his head as he heaved. With a curt nod, Jayce straightened his spine. He took a deep breath. 

 

He could do this. 

 

With Viktor's gagging sounds echoing behind him, Jayce stepped onto the stage, hand raised in greeting and a broad smile on his face.

///

They’d won. 

 

By a fucking landslide, they’d won. 

 

Viktor had managed to join Jayce mid-way through the presentation. Jayce had welcomed him enthusiastically and introduced him to the crowd as his equal.  

 

Yet, when Viktor had attempted to speak, his voice had sounded shredded and completely beat. So, Jayce had easily slipped into the unforeseen role and taken the brunt of the presentation. 

 

Come to find out, Jayce wasn’t so bad at public speaking after all. He’d gone into a sort of trance and if anyone asked him currently, he would have no recollection of his time on stage. But what mattered most to him was that he had managed to pull through for them. 

 

They’d been offered two golden pins, which they had etched onto their chests. A certificate for ‘most promising scientific careers’ of that current year. The managers had asked for a picture to upload to their social media and for, as they so called it, prosperity. 

 

They’d stood poised next to their invention, as per the photographer's request. Eventually, Jayce had thrown his arm over Viktor’s shoulders, causing him to look up at him and give Jayce that lopsided smile he had grown so accustomed to being around. 

 

That had been an hour ago. 

 

Since then, they’d been dispersed into the crowd. Everyone wanted to have a conversation or had questions they wanted answers for regarding the winning invention. Jayce and Viktor had assumed that to divide and conquer was the smartest choice. 

 

Jayce recognised the man before he introduced himself. 

 

“Mr. Salo,” Jayce nodded in greeting. The man before him was thin, with angular features that only sharpened whatever demeanor he elected for himself. Straight, blonde hair was meticulously slicked back, and Jayce felt as if there was something off-putting about the way he perceived others around him. In addition, Jayce thought his eyes were void of feeling. “Happy to be seeing you again.” 

 

Salo gave him a cold smile. “Likewise, Mr. Talis.” He gestured to the machine behind him. “Impressive work.”

 

Jayce gave him a broad smile. “Thank you, sir.” 

 

“I’m sure you’re considering distribution,” Salo offered, picking a piece of lint from the sleeve of his shirt. “At least you should be.”

 

With his hands firmly folded behind his back, Jayce shifted his weight at the unexpected bluntness. “We’re in the early stages,” Jayce managed to say, his affable social mask ever so reliable. 

 

“Still.” Salo reached into his pocket, the movement deliberate, smooth, as he produced a small, crisp envelope. He held it out, the paper suspended between his fingers. “Consider my company interested. We could help you take your invention to the next level, if you’re serious about your future.” 

 

Jayce’s gaze fixed on the envelope, the weight of its significance seemingly pulling him in. His heart was hammering in his chest, screaming in a song Jayce had been composing for most of his life. For a split second, he watched himself living this surreal moment from above. 

 

His lips curved upward politely. “We’re beyond flattered, sir.” 

 

He reached out, but as his fingers were about to graze the envelope, Salo’s hand shifted, retracting the paper just out of his reach. Jayce allowed himself to frown slightly, searching in Salo for an explanation. His expression was impassive. 

 

“You have a brilliant career ahead of you, Mr. Talis. You are intelligent and seem competent enough. But most importantly,–” Salo leaned in between them. “You’re likeable . You could very easily become the new face of innovation, a renowned man of progress. With my distribution, I could get you there.” 

 

A whirlwind of emotions stirred within Jayce. One part of him swelled, subtly intoxicated by the idea that someone so influential saw a future where Jayce could not only succeed, but dominate in his field. The fact that Salo wanted to invest, not just in their invention, but in Jayce .

 

A second part of him frowned at the unacknowledged implication in his words.

 

“Thank you, sir. Although I did not create this invention alone. My partner, Viktor–”

 

“Yes, yes,” Salo interrupted, making a dismissive gesture. Piercing eyes observed Jayce, the bead of sweat slithering down his nape and into the collar of his shirt becoming infuriatingly ticklish. Salo extended the envelope again, offering it with a controlled smile. “Just think about it, will you?” 

 

Blood rushed in his ears, the sound momentarily deafening.

 

After a long, tense pause, he finally took a step back. “Viktor and I come as a unit, I’m afraid.” 

 

Salo’s smile curved into something razor-edged, a gesture Jayce hated to stare at. 

 

“That’s fine,” Salo replied smoothly. Jayce felt the prickles of an unknown message being conveyed, one out of his reach. Still, he stared at the piece of paper. 

 

If Salo was willing to include Viktor in the deal, there couldn’t be any harm in taking a closer look at the offer. Right?

 

Jayce’s fingers stretched between them until he gripped the edges of the paper. Once in his possession, he tucked it in his pocket. 

 

“I expect to hear from you, Mr. Talis. I’m confident we will work well together.” 

///

Jayce finally found Viktor, hiding in an empty corridor, leaning against the wall by his lonesome.

 

Jayce approached him and casually settled next to him, offering a quiet, steady presence. They stood there together in a comfortable silence, letting the events of the evening settle between them. 

 

“I’m very sorry, Jayce,” Viktor eventually voiced, his cadence drenched in guilt. Jayce pivoted, leaning his shoulder against the wall instead, offering his undivided attention to his friend. 

 

“Why are you sorry?” His voice came out with a slightly confused, soft murmur.

 

Viktor exhaled slowly, shaking his head. He scratched a specific spot on his crutch.  “I let you down.” 

 

Jayce lifted a brow. “Says who?” 

 

Viktor’s eyes snapped to Jayce’s, a simmering anger coming to the surface. “Don’t patronize me.” Viktor gripped his aid to the point of turning his knuckles white. 

 

“V–” 

 

His ardent gaze dropped to his feet. “You had to go up there all by yourself. You had to do my part for me, for Christ's sake. I’m sure this is not what you thought you’d be signing up for when we started working together.” 

 

There was a tense silence. 

 

Jayce lifted his hand to reach for Viktor. He jerked back slightly.

 

Pursing his lips, Jayce let out a tight, slow breath. Gently, he lowered his hovering hand diagonally across his chest to settle over Viktor’s shoulder anew.

 

This time he stayed.

 

Turning his head, his eyes lept to Jayce's with an underlying vulnerability that felt palpable. They scurried away and fixated on a spot in Jayce’s chest. The tendons beneath his fingertips were taut, so Jayce kept his touch mindful.

 

“Viktor, need I remind you who’s been setting up every single one of our trials?” Jayce’s voice was low but firm. “Who uploaded our invention into the Academy’s program, a task that was its own nightmare? Who’s been checking the results, analyzing them, and going over every aspect out loud for me so I don’t have to go anywhere near a screen?” Jayce chuckled. “You have no fucking idea how lost I’d be without you. This is far more than I ever dreamt I’d be signing up for.” 

 

Viktor glanced up, his regard newly softened, as the edge inside him slowly thawed before Jayce. He gave Viktor’s shoulder another tender squeeze before sliding his hand to rest against his arm.

 

“Who cares?” He voiced earnestly, a faint smile blooming in his expression. “We’re partners. We’re supposed to help each other– fill in where the other can’t." Jayce gave him an obvious look. "You would have done the same for me."  

 

Finally, Viktor shifted and angled his body towards Jayce, mirroring his posture. Jayce switched his hand to the other arm, now directly accessible. Viktor’s shoulders had sagged slightly, the rigidity slowly melting under Jayce’s touch. 

 

“I’m still sorry,” he mumbled. 

 

“Don’t be. I’m probably half to blame anyway.”

 

Viktor’s lips stretched into a smile then, that mole of his coming back to life. “That, you are.” 

 

Jayce gave Viktor a light shove in protest, which elicited a chuckle out of him. His eyes grew in intensity and Jayce braced himself.

 

“You were incredible up there,” Viktor confessed in a tender tone. “If I hadn’t known you, and I had been sitting in that audience– I would have wanted to.” Viktor softly smiled at Jayce, tilting his head swiftly to the side in a gesture of further clarification. "Know you." 

 

Jayce stared at him for a moment, stunned. The complement slid into his chest and boomed, an explosion carrying unbridled glee, expanding into every corner of his body. 

 

The full force of such a feeling took over any control he might have had over his features. His face broke into a wide, involuntary beam. 

 

“Thanks, V.”

 

His eyes lingered before he nodded. “I mean it. You were phenomenal.” 

 

The feeling kept dispersing, almost all-consumingly, and Jayce made a conscious effort to take a deep breath. 

 

“And if I find any mention of this in our common calendar when I get back to the lab, I’m ripping it off the wall,” he added, an annoyance coated in mischief that was ever so familiar to Jayce. He barked out a laugh, hand flying to clutch his chest. 

 

Jayce cocked his head sideways, a faint grin in his mouth as he searched within his partner's gaze. It had a well-known twinkle behind it. "You just can’t let me have a moment, can you?” He straightened and shook his head disapprovingly, accompanying the gesture with a pitiful sigh. “There go my plans.”

 

“I fucking knew it,” Viktor said under his breath, his genuine smile finally returning and slowly growing.

 

Both settled once again against the wall, the comfortable silence enveloping them. 

 

“We got an offer, by the way.” Jayce shared nonchalantly. 

 

Viktor’s eyes shot wide for a fleeting moment, yet he still supplied with a self-assured tone, “Of course we did.” 

 

Jayce smirked. “Wanna hear how much?” His voice was low, some deviltry itching inside him as his eyes landed on Viktor. 

 

Viktor arched an eyebrow, an unspoken invitation in his expression.

 

Jayce leaned forward, cupping his mouth to whisper an absurdly obscene amount. The tips of his fingers caressed the shell of Viktor’s ear, and he felt his digits strangely twitch at the contact. 

 

When Jayce pulled back, Viktor offered a vacant blink.

 

“Are you sure you heard correctly?” 

 

“Oh, yes.” 

 

A beat of silence passed.

 

“That's beyond ridiculous,” Viktor admitted with a stunned smile.

 

Jayce stuttered out a laugh of utter disbelief, mirroring the sentiment. “What are these people on? ” 

 

They locked eyes, a shared sense of bewilderment passing between them, the ecstatic feeling utterly contagious as it spread. It reminded Jayce of when they’d first met– how the sheer absurdity of the situation had sent them both into fits of laughter. 

 

Jayce watched as Viktor’s world completely changed and was remade anew within the span of a single conversation. 

 

“Holy shit.”

 

“Viktor,” Jayce announced, leaning forward with a smirk. “We're about to become filthy rich.” 

///

“Has anyone told you how handsome you look tonight?” 

 

Jayce finished gulping down the shot and turned to face the voice. A beautiful girl was patiently bidding for his attention, observing him through her long lashes. 

 

For tonight, he’d decided to let go, forget every single thought weighing on his mind and dedicate his full focus into celebrating. Jayce had been switching between downing drinks like his life depended on it and occupying the dance floor, losing himself to whatever rhythms captured the room. 

 

Viktor had been quick to remind him that he was not one to usually enjoy being in the middle of a crowd, but he’d encouraged Jayce to enjoy himself nonetheless. 

 

So, Jayce had. He was, currently. 

 

He smiled at her as she appraised him.

 

“Not yet,” he teased, the alcohol loosening his tongue. He tilted his chin slightly, letting his interest show. “Is that what you're doing?”

 

“If you'd like,” she smiled back. Her eyes slowly traced his figure from head to toe, lingering on his parted mouth before meeting his eyes anew. Jayce’s body warmed at the freely offered attention. “I'd mean it.” 

 

He chuckled. “I do enjoy people who don't beat around the bush.” 

 

She gave him an impish curve to her mouth, eyes never leaving his. “Definitely not around it.” 

 

A surprised laugh bubbled out of him, pulse quickening at the image conjured. Damn. 

 

A tedious warmth crept over his cheeks– whether from the alcohol coursing through his veins or the suggestive nature of her words. “I'm sure that can be arranged,” he tried with a smile.  

 

He had no idea what he was saying. Jayce hadn’t been one for one-night stands, and very rarely did he indulge in flirting with strangers. It happened mostly when he was bored or somewhat socially compromised. 

 

But the past few weeks had been hard. Soulfully weighed. And he was drunk. So, he was going to abandon any inhibitions, even if only for a few hours.

 

“Couldn't help myself. From the moment I saw you on that stage…” Her gaze traveled through his body once again before quietly confessing, "You're godly.” 

 

He flashed his signature social smile.

 

“You know what they say, beauty being in the eye of the beholder and whatnot.” He leaned in closer with a devilish glint. “M’glad you were the one beholding.” 

 

Her glossed lips curled upward. 

 

“Humble and hot. Must be my lucky night.” She reached for the winning pin still etched to his chest, her fingers brushing gold. “Congratulations, by the way.” 

 

A surge of smugness bloomed in Jayce’s chest.

 

“Thank you. Are you in the field yourself?” 

 

"I’m a mathematical researcher," she replied, withdrawing her hand. "I attend these competitions to see what’s up-and-coming. I was impressed by the ingenuity behind your invention."

 

“Well, it wasn't quite my invention alone. I did it with, um,–” Jayce glanced up instinctively, his eyes scanning the room for Viktor. “–my partner,” he finished, the momentary distraction pulling him away from the conversation.

 

He found his unmistakable curls in the far right corner of the room, across the dance floor. Viktor’s back was turned, deep in conversation with a smiling young man. The guy was laughing, touching Viktor’s elbow, leaning into his space without a single concern. Viktor did not seem to be corresponding to any of his advances.

 

A twinge of something pulled at Jayce– 

 

He felt a calling. 

 

“Excuse me for a moment,” Jayce said with a polite smile, utterly immersed in this new quest.

 

He navigated across the room, smiling and nodding at those who recognized him from the competition. As he neared Viktor–whose height fell just shy of his nose–, Jayce positioned himself behind him. 

 

A wave of pride rushed through him at the sight of Viktor leaning on Jayce's crutch. It felt like a part of him, an extension that was always present to support his partner, even if Jayce momentarily wasn't.

 

Jayce pinned his eyes on the intruder above Viktor’s head, his head cocking slightly as he took him in. The man looked up, confusion flickering as their eyes met.

 

“Can I help you?” 

 

Jayce threw his arm around Viktor’s shoulders.

 

“Hello.” 

 

Viktor glanced up, startled, and then his body immediately relaxed at the recognition.

 

“Oh, this is who I was telling you about– Jayce. He's my–”

 

“Partner,” Jayce interjected with a broad smile, extending his hand to the guy whose mouth reminded Jayce of a goldfish. The fish-made-man tentatively shook it. 

 

“Oh!” The guy’s face quickly turned apologetic as he addressed Viktor directly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you two were together. I wouldn’t have been so shamelessly flirting with you.”

 

Viktor’s mouth fell open. “Em.” 

 

“Wait, Viktor and I?” Jayce laughed with incredulity. “No, not like that. Lab partners. He should be so lucky,” Jayce added with a very drunk wink. 

 

Viktor’s lips tightened as he angled his body to face him. He placed a delicate hand on Jayce’s ribs, the touch tense. Jayce could feel the coolness of his skin through the fabric, recognizable goosebumps coming to life on his forearm.

 

“Forgive us,” Viktor offered with a strained curve to his lips, fingers applying certain pressure on Jayce’s side to guide him away. “I think we are going to grab some air. It was nice to meet you.” 

 

The guy seemed dejected, and Jayce couldn’t help but marvel at the sight. “Likewise,” he responded, gaze still flicking upward. 

 

Jayce kept his eyes trained on the shameless flirt as he sputtered sideways, being lightly nudged by Viktor. The cold smile on his face was unwavering. The guy’s eyes eventually darted away, finding somewhere else to occupy his attention.

 

“Move,” Viktor threatened under his breath, a growl beneath his tone. Jayce sniggered. 

 

Viktor slid an arm around his waist in silent support and Jayce was unexpectedly flooded with giddy affection. It somehow tickled him to find how perfectly Viktor fit under his arm. How comfortable his limb felt draped over his shoulders. He looked so tiny.

 

“Look at you,” Jayce mocked, peeking down at his friend as they walked side by side. “Flirting with strangers at parties. Who are you?” He laughed again, feeling a rush of lightheadedness.

 

Viktor guided them toward the balcony. 

 

“How are you this drunk already?” Viktor asked in a low voice, those sneaky lips of his twitching in a secret amusement that wasn’t lost on Jayce.

 

"It's an art form," he grinned smugly.

 

Once they stepped outside, the cool breeze immediately brought a sobering sensation to Jayce. Viktor released him, standing firmly in front of him.

 

After an intense glower, he slapped Jayce on the arm. Jayce clutched the place of impact.

 

“What the hell was that?” Viktor demanded.

 

“What the hell was what?”

 

Viktor gave him a hard stare. He gestured towards the party. “ That.”

 

Jayce chuckled with newfound understanding. He shrugged. “It just looked like you needed rescuing.”

 

Viktor analysed him with absolute scrutiny. 

 

“Do I ever look like I'm in need of rescue?” He asked with a pointed look, the underlying challenge in his voice giving Jayce pause. “Be serious.” 

 

Jayce’s brows knitted together, hating the fact that Viktor had a logical point. 

 

Then, in a sudden flash of clarity, Jayce’s stomach dropped.

 

“Oh, shit!” He exclaimed, his brows shooting towards his hairline. “I–uh, I totally cock-blocked you, didn’t I?” Viktor narrowed his eyes in slight judgment, causing Jayce's hand to fly to the back of his neck and knead soothing rubs. “I can fix it if you want me to,” Jayce assured, a grin interlaced with guilt spreading across his face. “Just say the word.” 

 

Viktor kept his composure serene for a moment too long, but eventually the corners of his mouth gave him away. “That's strangely endearing.” 

 

“I’m a phenomenal wingman,” Jayce promised, a hand atop his heart. 

 

Viktor's eyes shone with light-hearted diversion. "Case in point?" 

 

Jayce let out a huff of air, swiftly coming to his own defense with a broad smile. "This one doesn't count. I had no idea you were interested."

 

Viktor shook his head as he approached the railing of the balcony. He lifted a delicate hand, brushing metal under soft skin. 

 

Jayce followed him, turning his back to it instead while leaning his elbows onto the surface. His interest was still fixated on the party unfolding beyond, pulsating music tugging alongside the lively colors that flashed through the glass door. With casualty, Jayce crossed his legs before him.

 

“I feel forced to admit that I'm actually glad you came to my rescue,” Viktor muttered to himself after a quiet moment. Jayce, as he did so often around Viktor, grinned.

 

“See?” Jayce said, complacent. “I knew my instincts were infallible.” 

 

“Alright, alright,” he chastised with a smile, rolling eyes lost to the horizon.

 

_ _ _

 

Despite Jayce’s attention seemingly pinned elsewhere, he showed no sign of wanting to leave.

 

Viktor inhaled the fresh air, squinting at the different blinking lights coming from the darkened sea. 

 

“Jayce,” he started with careful assertiveness. “I've been thinking.”

 

When there was no response, Viktor glanced up to find Jayce casually waving at someone inside, a lazy smile on his face.

 

Viktor shifted, following his line of sight. His eyes fell on a beautiful girl who was twirling her fingers in turn. It was undoubtedly flirtatious.

 

A wave of annoyance washed through him, one he channeled into giving Jayce’s nose a hard flick. 

 

“Ouch! ” 

 

“Pay attention.” 

 

“I was paying attention!” 

 

Viktor leveled him with a look.

 

“Fine, fine," Jayce conceded with mirth. He gestured openly with his hand. “Go ahead.” 

 

Viktor turned once again toward the vast view, the glistening lights of Piltover twinkling beneath them.

 

“About your talk with Salo…” 

 

Viktor took a deep breath, finding his stride. 

 

“While I can imagine that astronomical amount of money would certainly make a difference in our lives, I'm not sure I want to go through with it.” 

 

Viktor let the faint scent of salt, soaring from the distant sea, soothe the last of his nerves.

 

“I fear that if we sell Blowie to someone like Salo, it’ll end up in the hands of abhorrently rich people. Or worse yet– incorporated into some absurdly expensive AC system, which completely defeats its purpose.” Viktor paused, the weight of his words lifting the pressure from his chest. “I don’t want to sell out– it feels wrong.”

 

“Wrong?" Jayce interjected, the tone of dazed confusion lacing the word. He turned his head and furrowed his brows, newly searching. Shaking his head slightly, Viktor saw how Jayce's attention zoomed into focus. "What feels wrong?” 

 

Irritation clawed its way up Viktor's throat. “Are you even listening to me?” He snapped.

 

Jayce grimaced. He adjusted his posture to face Viktor.

 

“Sorry.” He nodded. “I'm listening now. Promise.” 

 

Viktor massaged the bridge of his nose between two fingers. He counted his breaths, attempting to soothe his now galloping heart. 

 

“I think we should donate Blowie,” he repeated with extreme slowness. “Let anyone access the blueprints, let anyone distribute it.” 

 

Jayce blinked, processing what Viktor was suggesting. “You don't want the money?” 

 

I don't care about the money, Viktor wanted to say. 

 

But he couldn't. It was unfair, wasn't it? He suspected he wouldn't have cared about the money regardless, but the truth was, he was in a very unique position. There was no need for money from inside a grave. 

 

Yet, that was not the case for Jayce. He would go on living, and Viktor knew he was asking for too much, too big a sacrifice, just so he could leave behind a legacy to be proud of. Just so his life’s work could actually contribute to doing some real good.

 

Viktor wouldn’t be here long enough to ensure that could happen under a private purchase, no matter how insistent they might be about honoring their wishes. He was far too drained to keep living, let alone dig through fine print and hidden meanings within tedious indentures. Trying to spot the inevitable leg-sweep. 

 

Viktor knew better than to trust a system that had colossally failed him–and so many others– at every turn.

 

He wanted to ensure this machine lived on and reached those forgotten corners where people had the most need for it. He wanted to guarantee Blowie wouldn’t end up shackled to a dying contract.

 

“It's not that,” Viktor offered, his voice quiet but resolute. “I just want Blowie to be accessible. And the best way to do that is to donate it, or find a company who will ensure its fair distribution, instead of turning it into yet another commodity for a group of people who haven't got a single need for it.” 

 

“Ah.” Jayce seemed to finally understand. 

 

Viktor exhaled, feeling the weight of what he was saying. “And I know there's two of us. I know it's a lot of money to turn down.”

 

“V.” 

 

“But people deserve this invention.” 

 

I deserved this invention.

 

“Of course they do.” 

 

Viktor shifted uncomfortably. “And honestly, Salo seems sleazy. I don't trust him.” 

 

Jayce hummed. “He did offer us an inconceivable amount,” he admitted. 

 

“It's suspicious.” 

 

Jayce was nodding in agreement.

 

Viktor stole a glance at his lab partner. He was deep in thought, his cheeks flushed and pupils dilated. It suddenly became obvious that having this conversation while Jayce was slightly inebriated might not have been the best idea. Viktor couldn't shake the feeling that he had no time to waste lately.

 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have sprung this on you. You have every right to take your time to consider.” 

 

“V,” Jayce said, his hand coming to rest on Viktor’s shoulder with a sinking warmth. He gave Viktor a tender smile, showcasing his conscious presence in the present moment. “We did this together and we'll finish this together.”

 

The words wrapped around Viktor's chest and squeezed, stomach flip-flopping at the genuineness pouring out of Jayce's hazel eyes, intently staring back.

 

“Besides,” Jayce added with a slight grimace, his free hand waving around dismissively as if he could erase the information from his brain. “You're right, of course you're right. We started this because we wanted to help people– people like you .” Jayce squeezed his shoulder as he regarded him with a kindness that poured out of his expression. “My dream is not exclusively tied to our financial gains. I'll happily go without if it means doing right by both of us.” 

 

Viktor swallowed the lump in his throat. 

 

Where had this man even come from?

 

“Truly?” 

 

Jayce snorted. “Should I be taking offence over your tone of surprise?” 

 

Viktor gave him a small smile. “Maybe.” 

 

Jayce let his mouth open with false indignation. “Rude.” 

 

He settled against the rail once more, and Viktor felt the coldness of the night hit him at full force without Jayce’s warmth directly pressing against his skin.

 

Jayce pondered further. “If we're donating it, we should definitely not call it Blowie .” He grimaced at the word.

 

Viktor chuckled. 

 

“I don't think I can call it anything else,” he confessed.

 

“For anyone without your lewd train of thought, they'll think we're idiots. I mean, the machine doesn't blow air; it does the exact opposite. Doesn't that bother you?” 

 

“No,” Viktor smirked. “It adds intrigue.”  

 

To be honest, Viktor couldn't care less about what others thought. There was only one exception to that rule.

 

Viktor looked up at Jayce, whose lids had slightly drooped as he watched the lights from the party shift on the terrace floor.

 

"You're a surprisingly eloquent drunk," Viktor offered. 

 

"I'm not that drunk." Still, Jayce grinned and damn him, for his profile was just as breathtaking. He rolled his head toward Viktor, leaning in as his eyes slid to meet him. "I also have the superpower of social autopilot," Jayce whispered conspicuously before straightening with a chuckle. "Don't tell anyone, though– it will stain my image." 

 

Something about picturing Jayce, ever the public sensation, interacting seamlessly and in perfect synchronisation with his direct environment, only for the control panel in his brain to sit utterly blank, made Viktor want to laugh.

 

He was quite extraordinary, wasn't he?

 

Viktor smiled at him. "Your secret is safe with me."

 

As more people began trickling onto the balcony, Viktor hesitantly placed his hand gently over Jayce’s forearm. His eyes dropped to the faint touch before meeting Viktor’s gaze.

 

“Thank you, Jayce.” 

 

He gave Viktor an earnest smile, a recognition behind the twinkle in his eye. “You don't have to thank me, V. We're a team.” 

 

“Aren't you the winner?" Someone called out to Jayce from the other group, which was quickly filling the once peaceful balcony.

 

Jayce muttered under his breath to Viktor, “I cannot take another second of shop talk,” before pushing to his feet. “I'm going to go drink and dance,” he firmly announced. Jayce began to walk backwards, his arms open and beckoning. “I hope you’ll join me at some point?” 

 

“We’ll see,” he replied, his lips curling upwards. Viktor’s stomach tightened as he stared, helplessly caught in the raw beauty that was Jayce Talis.

 

As Jayce swirled, Viktor’s sight unavoidably dipped to his spectacular, magnificent, god-given, pompous behind.

 

And Viktor restrained any thoughts that might have popped into his head– especially the ones detailing exactly what he could imagine doing to that glorious sight before him.

 

“By the way, Jayce?” Viktor called after him, surprised by the sound of his own voice breaking the silence. 

 

Jayce swivelled, a curt nod with his chin in silent invitation.

 

Viktor smirked. “We both know you should be so lucky.” 

 

Jayce’s expression faltered for a moment as he processed Viktor’s words, his confusion palpable before recognition flickered behind his eyes. Mockingly, he stuck his tongue out.

 

Viktor, to his everlasting surprise, stuck his own right back. 

/// 

 

Jayce had lost track of how long he'd been dancing. Completely wasted, the alcohol uplifted him, giving him a floating sensation that made him feel equally wired.

 

So many bodies had pressed against him. Ground against him. And he'd been needing the contact. 

 

For some weeks now, Jayce had been feeling… Restless. 

 

During periods where he wasn't seeing much action, he had always been able to take care of himself quite efficiently.

 

Until recently. 

 

He'd fallen into some sort of frenzied spell, erratic and unpredictable. At times, it would fade, particularly when he immersed himself in the lab. But just when he tasted the possibility that he’d been freed from it, it would strike again, forceful and unyielding.

 

Regardless of the amount of attention he set aside for his needy cock, nothing satisfied the itch that lingered, lurking beneath the surface. 

 

It just wouldn't go away. 

 

So Jayce wondered if he should partake in the culture of one-night stands, a new curiosity that craved to test new hypotheses.

 

He'd never been particularly interested in shallow expressions of intimacy, physical or otherwise– but the current circumstances called for an exception. 

 

And who knew? Maybe he'd enjoy it. 

 

At least it would give him back the free time to focus on what really mattered: Working with Viktor, finishing Blowie. As much as being an active part of Viktor’s life which, at this moment in time, was well within his main priorities. 

 

Which meant doing whatever it took to rid himself of these irritating, distracting and painfully persistent urges that had shown up out of nowhere.

 

Jayce had saved the girl’s number from the bar, figuring he’d set something up later in the week. Sharing a bedroom with Viktor meant privacy was out of the question tonight.

 

Every so often, as slick bodies found comfort against his own, Jayce couldn't quieten the sensation prickling against his skin. The hairs on his nape bristled, as if his body were trying to poke him into an understanding that seemed to slip by, misunderstood. 

 

It resembled the feeling of being thoroughly watched. Except here, there were no hidden eyes. Just the obvious ones.

 

Now and then, he caught glimpses of Viktor. At some point, he’d come inside, moving through the crowd and engaging in conversation with different people.

 

Every time Jayce’s gaze lingered, Viktor eventually found it. Jayce always answered with a grin. 

 

And Viktor always replied back with a faint smile of recognition, genuine and happy in his own, quiet way.

 

But that last interaction felt like so long ago. 

 

As Jayce moved to the music, his gaze instinctively swept across the room, searching for his partner.

 

The moment his eyes found him, space and time dulled around him. 

 

The music faded into the background, its rhythm distant and hollow. The bodies surrounding him no longer swayed with fluidity but flickered like consecutive frames in a film reel, disjointed and unreal.

 

Only Viktor remained in focus.

 

Viktor leaned against the wall, his image appearing and disappearing as people passed through Jayce’s line of sight. 

 

A soft, rouge light shone down from above, casting his features in a glow that left Jayce momentarily entranced.

 

He was sitting, legs comfortably spread and head resting against the wall. It surprised Jayce further to find him engaging with the rhythm coursing through the room as well, his feet tapping, head bobbing ever-so-slightly as a faint smile pulled on his lips.

 

The light overhead caught the sharp angles of his face and softened them just enough, bringing out a perspective that Jayce couldn't keep himself from admiring.

 

Viktor looked like something pulled directly from the cover of a magazine.

 

And for the first time, Jayce came to understand– 

 

Viktor was a very handsome man. 

 

But there was something else too, something softer.

 

Jayce was glimpsing at a different beauty in him, a feminine quality that interlaced in his features. It brushed against his physique and shyly enveloped it, perfectly intertwining with his undeniable, masculine posture. The shape of his mouth was graceful, yet his bushy brows were rough. His chin was smooth, yet the bump in his throat added new angular aspects to his complexion. 

 

It all tied together in one masterful display of natural beauty.

 

It was a strange combination, one Jayce had never been actively aware of until now. Gender danced through Viktor, its spectrum dipping and plummeting according to its cravings inside his silhouette.

 

Jayce found himself feeling slightly jealous. It was as if God had decided to spend some extra time on designing his lab partner– a creation born of careful indulgence. One probably unimaginable to any being constricted by human imagination.

 

Or maybe Jayce was just really, really drunk? At this point, he couldn't tell. 

 

Regardless, at that moment, he was utterly mesmerized by Viktor’s innate refinement. The newly discovered fact hit him like a slap, random and discombobulating.

 

Had anyone ever told Viktor? Was he aware?

 

That felt like something anyone would be happy to hear, would they not? 

 

Jayce hadn't even realized he'd moved. One moment, he was watching from across the room. The next, he was standing right in front of Viktor, still caught up in the details of his features.

 

Viktor must have sensed him because he lifted his head from the wall, eyes rising to meet Jayce’s with quiet curiosity, that same soft smile still playing at his lips.

 

“Everything alright?” 

 

Aliveness had momentarily clung to Viktor’s body, his expression, his minimal dancing. It made Jayce's chest tighten in elation.

 

“You look…” 

 

Viktor’s brows knit together and he leaned in slightly, voicing, “Hmm?” as he pointed at his ear. 

 

Jayce realized he didn't know how to do this. He didn't know how to offer a raw compliment to another man without giving the wrong impression. And even though Viktor seemed completely comfortable in his masculinity, Jayce felt the weight of his momentary fear press against his windpipe. 

 

So instead, he blurted out, “Have I ever asked you for your pronouns?”

 

Viktor blinked. Then, gaped at him.  

 

“Um. No?” 

 

Jayce felt ridiculous, all of a sudden. If Viktor used different pronouns, he would have corrected him long ago. Right?

 

Jayce had caught a glimpse of something– like a shifting image on a lenticular print, where tilting it just slightly revealed something entirely new. 

 

Yet, in this case, both images were the same. They were Viktor. Identical, and still different somehow.

 

All, undeniably striking. 

 

A rush of heat crawled up his nape, all the way into his ears, at the mere thought of attempting to put that sentiment into words in his current state.

 

“Dance with me?” He asked instead.

 

Viktor’s eyes widened before they deepened as he regarded him. Jayce noticed the minuscule shift, how Viktor’s grip around his crutch, softly poised against his thigh, changed. His nail had begun to dig into the soft flesh of his thumb.

 

“This might be the one thing I can’t keep up with you on,” he admitted, glancing to the side before returning his undivided attention to Jayce. 

 

There was a certain sadness underlying the statement and Jayce wanted it gone.

 

"I don't care," he said without missing a beat. Jayce grinned down at his partner. “I’ll adapt.”

 

The intensity of his golden eyes grew before they flicked further up, a tight smile blossoming in his mouth. 

 

“Not with that tie around your head.” 

 

Jayce raised his hands, patting his temples. “Oh, thank God,” he exclaimed. “I’ve been looking for that everywhere.” He tilted his head, a curious twinkle in his eyes. “Is that your only condition?”

 

“Yep,” Viktor chirped stubbornly, his cheeks flushed.

 

Jayce nodded. “Very well.” He pulled off the tie and approached Viktor, finding himself between his open legs.

 

Viktor tilted his head back, eyes leisurely locking with Jayce's as he followed his towering presence. His slack expression turned into quiet surprise, then shifted to begrudging understanding, and finally settled on a pure deadpan.

 

Jayce made a quick job out of wrapping the tie around Viktor’s head instead, tugging it snug. “There. Now I won’t lose it for certain,” he said earnestly. He gave a gentle pull at the lapels of the tie, now falling to the side of Viktor's head. A faint smile played on his lips. “Considering– where you go, I go.”

 

The trademark loop-sided smile bloomed in Viktor’s softened expression, despite the ever-lasting, brittle suspicion coating his mischievous gleam. Viktor dipped his chin until his molten gaze pierced through his brows.

 

“That sounds ominous.” 

 

He shot Viktor a playful look. “Come on,” Jayce encouraged, taking a step back while extending a hand between them. “For me?” 

 

Viktor stared at his expectant hand for a moment before sighing deeply. He pulled himself to his feet and raised his own free hand, slowly hovering it towards Jayce's. His middle finger elegantly dipped, slowly tracing the length of Jayce's open palm with the lightest graze of skin touching skin. The pad of his digit climbed over calluses only to sink again, following each bump with aching precision. His fingertips relented when they reached the soft skin of Jayce's inner wrist. Viktor's palm lingered for a heartbeat before settling above his.

 

Jayce felt a sort of internal hiccup. 

 

“If I take your weight, would you feel comfortable dancing without it?” He asked, nodding toward the crutch. Viktor studied him intently. 

 

“...I suppose.” 

 

“Then, leave it.” 

 

Tentatively and to Jayce's surprise, Viktor set his crutch against the wall. 

 

Without hesitation, Jayce circled him, gently wrapping one arm around his waist to guide his back against Jayce’s chest. Viktor, probably overcome by the dizziness of inebriation, surrendered his weight to his partner entirely. 

 

Jayce was abruptly aware of the fact that Viktor was letting him . 

 

Adjusting his hold, Jayce happily absorbed it and focused on keeping Viktor comfortably steady against him.

 

Viktor’s natural scent enveloped him immediately. Exhaling slowly, Jayce dipped his head with a faint smile. 

 

“See?” Jayce murmured in his ear. “Just like in the lab.” 

 

Viktor snorted, his body casually tense. “This is nothing like in the lab.” 

 

“Lean back,” Jayce suggested, keeping his voice low. “If you rest your full weight on me, you might actually enjoy it.” 

 

And once again, Viktor listened. He cautiously reclined his head against Jayce's shoulder. The side of Viktor's neck pressed against his own, the contact brushing all the way down to the base of Jayce's throat. A mellow coolness immediately bled into Jayce and, coincidentally, brought a flood of relief to his overheated body. Viktor's delicate hands found their spot around Jayce’s forearm and in a sight of complete surrender, Viktor shut his eyes.

 

The image that Jayce had spied from across the room moments ago, was now directly under him. 

 

Jayce tipped back to marvel at it. It was truly unique in all of its glory and he wondered how he’d spent so many months without ever properly perceiving it.

 

After making sure Viktor was fully settled against him, Jayce inclined his body back slightly, just enough to pull Viktor with him. A quiet sigh of relief escaped Viktor's lips at the released pressure on his perpetually aching frame.

 

That’s the sound Jayce most wanted to relish on, lately. Knowing Viktor was feeling alright was music to his ears. 

 

Jayce swayed, slow and steady, the rhythm of the room’s relentless bass a distant pulse that no longer beckoned. 

 

Lulled by alcohol, Jayce dipped his nose into Viktor’s hair, unpurposefully internalising his unscented shampoo. A soft smile curled in his mouth at the feel of his wonderful friend– the one that was offering him his dreams on a platter, the one that brought so much color to an already colored painting, the one wearing Jayce’s tie around his head because, deep down–underneath the layers of survival and carefully constructed armor–, Viktor was, in all actuality, a silly man.

 

He'd stumbled upon gold that day in the canteen, and it was truly inconceivable how much his life had changed in so little time because of it. Jayce thought back to who he'd been at that time: lost and insecure, without a shred of guidance or idea as to where his place in the world was. His dreams had been but tiny bursts of fog, unrealistic and seemingly impossible to grasp. 

 

Only for this tempest of a creature to come into his life and impossibly turn it on itself. 

 

They'd gotten an offer . To an unfinished project. 

 

That's how promising what they were creating was.

 

And he had no idea how he would have ever gotten there without the brilliant friend currently cradled in his arms. Without his ideas, his belief, his iron-clad commitment to see it through– regardless of the outcome at first.

 

Jayce felt a surge of affection that made him squeeze Viktor tighter to his chest. 

 

Viktor’s lips curved, and his digits tapped twice on his forearm in recognition and response, following the curvature of his muscle. 

 

After a while of shuffling from side to side, taking their absolute time to twirl in place, Viktor emitted a groan. 

 

“Tell me,” Jayce murmured. 

 

“We still have so much work ahead of us,” Viktor responded with equal quiet. Jayce felt the rumbles of Viktor's vocal cords vibrating in his own throat.

 

Jayce chuckled softly. “Save it for tomorrow.” 

 

Viktor sighed deeply and Jayce turned toward the sound. His chin, following a mind of its own, found the perfect resting spot atop Viktor’s head. The curvature of Jayce’s neck seemed to perfectly align with the head now pressed against it, and the touch was effortless. It was warm and reassuring. Comfortable and undeniably familiar, now. 

 

There was a subtle squeeze on his forearm, as if Viktor had read Jayce’s mind and agreed. 

 

A sudden wave of crushing uncertainty washed over Jayce, the burden of anxiety heavy on the soul. 

 

He still had no idea how he was going to figure this out– Viktor’s survival. The sudden urgency prickled his lungs.

 

But that, too, would have to wait until tomorrow. 

///

Viktor had been watching Jayce for the whole night. He hadn't been able to help it.

 

When Jayce let go, music flooded into his body and consumed it entirely. Maybe the talent was genetically passed down, after all.

 

He wasn’t show-y about it. He blended in, almost unnoticed if one wasn’t paying close attention. 

 

Of course, Viktor was paying close attention.

 

Gods, it was as if Jayce had control over every inch of his body; a perfect harmony between movement and intention. At times, he would throw in an unexpected step, something confident and fluid that only further leashed Viktor’s attention.

 

Jayce had been drenched in sweat, his half-lidded eyes heavy, his jaw slack in pleasured liberation. He'd glistened under the lights, and Viktor had wished he’d had an armchair to lounge in. He would have thoroughly enjoyed being an unabashed spectator to Jayce’s raw energy. If Jayce ever let him, he would sit and watch forever. 

 

Then there were the others. People crowding in, searching for his touch, brushing against him, grinding into him. Jayce welcomed every one of them, open and electric. It was truly effortless, the way others gravitated towards him. The way he let them. 

 

For the first time, Viktor had seen what Jayce looked like when he flirted, when he mildly gave in to his desires.

 

Jayce was considerate, but also greedy. He boldly reached for hips, his body flowing seamlessly as their heads dipped into each other's necks, clicking and moving as one with each of his dance partners.

 

Viktor had witnessed a dance transform into something far more intimate, right there in the middle of the dance floor, with tangled legs and effortless movement. Jayce kissed widely and sloppily; he circled his wide digits around the person's nape and gripped. Pressed harder against them. 

 

It looked all-consuming to Viktor. Entirely eviscerating.

 

It was a sight he wished he hadn't witnessed, because now it had been seared into his mind. Like a burning brand forever coating the inside of his brain.

 

Of course, Jayce would be sex on a stick. Of fucking course.

 

Viktor had been drunk enough for his thoughts to break from the shackles of confinement. 

 

As he had come to find, men usually fell into one of two categories when it came to fucking: those who were rigid in their thrusts, a monotonic and stiff movement caged by limited flexibility. Or… Those who knew how to move their hips in entrancing slides, fluid and casually offering the most interesting of angles. 

 

Unfortunately, Viktor couldn't help but notice how Jayce was so obviously in the latter category. 

 

Viktor’s mind wandered to darker places, thoughts flickering to what it would be like to feel such movement atop him, how that phenomenal ass would power each thrust and ripple with it. Viktor let himself imagine, for a single moment, how it would feel to bury his face inside it and consume it for himself.

 

Fuck. He was getting distracted again. The alcohol was not helping with keeping his thoughts in check, either.

 

In spite of his heavy fatigue, Viktor's dick had been twitching all night; calling, longing, craving.

 

Leave it to Jayce Talis to perform fucking miracles.

 

Since his health had taken a plummet, Viktor hadn't had the energy to even consider these aspects of himself. His libido had dissipated as he tried to survive the ruthless ups and downs of his current reality. 

 

But as he watched how Jayce bobbed with the crowd, slick hair sticking to his forehead, mouth parted in a semblance of complete release– Viktor burned with an aching starvation, a desperate need that was clawing a hole inside his stomach. 

 

And as Viktor regarded the way Jayce reciprocated the touches that came his way, he couldn't help but think how he knew that touch. How he knew the texture of those calloused palms on his skin. 

 

Except, not like that.  

 

Not while Jayce’s fingers tip-toed over the side of their bodies, crawling upwards in possessive caresses.

 

Never like that. 

 

The jealousy crept in, unexpected and needy– a sharp pang twisting in his chest. A feeling that was utterly new to Viktor.

 

But as soon as it came, it went. Viktor refused to entertain any thoughts that might jeopardise his friendship with Jayce. 

 

Because, above anything else, Jayce was an extraordinary friend. His best. 

 

The conversation about Blowie’s future had only continued to prove it. 

 

And at present time, as Viktor leaned his head on Jayce’s impossibly broad chest, he closed his eyes and felt the corners of his lips twitch. 

 

This was enough. This was so much more than enough. This was beyond.

 

Viktor wanted only what Jayce was willing to offer, just as Jayce had once told him. Viktor suspected that to be one of the reasons their connection was so profound: neither of them wanted the other to be anything other than themselves. There were no expectations or rigid rules. They embraced what was and celebrated each other for it.

 

With his legacy secured, Viktor had fulfilled the second precious reason that would allow him to die a happy man. A thought that would have been unimaginable even a simple year ago.

 

His affairs were aligning. Viktor knew that even if he died tomorrow, he could now affirm that Jayce would ensure Blowie ended up where it was most needed. He knew Jayce would take care of it if Viktor couldn’t. 

 

Viktor's chest was filled with warmth about it. Gratitude.

 

The pressure of Jayce’s chin on the top of his head felt right, a tender tether to reality. The warmth of his slick neck plastered against Viktor’s skull, the pure heat filtering into his body and melting away the sharpest of his pains. It was strange to find that even Jayce's slight scent of sweat brought Viktor comfort. It was Jayce's.

 

And here, now, while he was surrounded by softness, cushioned and enveloped, in the arms of a magnificent, selfless, extraordinary man he so fiercely cared for–

 

Viktor was finally at peace. 

 

/// 

 

The moment Viktor began to cough in his sleep, Jayce was wide awake. 

 

It started slow at first, sporadic. 

 

But as minutes ticked by, the frequency increased, and the intensity slowly crept upwards. 

 

Jayce was sitting by the edge of his bed, nervously watching over Viktor. Jayce’s heart skipped a beat when Viktor was finally pulled from sleep with another violent cough. 

 

His eyes widened in surprise; coming into consciousness by desperately gasping for air seemed like a rather horrible awakening.

 

The moment he was up, Jayce was by his side in an instant. He whispered comforting nothings, all while rubbing gentle and desperate circles at his back. It all felt rather hollow in the face of Viktor’s struggle to breathe . 

 

The cough was unrelenting. 

 

Viktor's face was getting redder, slowly turning darker with each ragged breath. His eyes were strained with effort, and veins were protruding in his neck, visibly throbbing with the exertion.

 

Jayce’s heart raced, panic bubbling up as he watched Viktor’s distress. He didn’t know what to do– how to help–and it gnawed at him, a desperate helplessness flooding him. 

 

He was sick of it– this helplessness. 

 

Viktor reached for his glass of water. Jayce sat next to him, already searching his phone for a potential solution. In his momentary distraction, the glass slid from Viktor’s grip and tumbled to the carpet.

 

Jayce didn’t hesitate– swiftly, he got dressed, moving efficiently as he helped Viktor into his larger coat. Sliding his arm around Viktor’s waist, he helped him toward the garage.

 

The moment Jayce noticed Viktor was fighting to remain conscious, he stopped wavering. Jayce scooped Viktor up in one smooth motion, tucked him to his chest and bolted.

 

This time around, Jayce didn't think twice before driving Viktor to the hospital.

Notes:

TW: recreational alcohol consumption, comp-het shit, internalized homophobia maybe, sickness

///

sorry it took so long yall, lately i try to string two sentences together and its like WOAH there goes my energy for the day x)

I feel like the writing and everything is all over the place for this one but I did not have the patience to restructure so now it's your problem to deal with 8)

How we feeling about 100k words and still no kiss? 😂

My babies in a laaaaaab, it always touches my potato heart. its where they belong yall

also, anyone else into NB viktor? I swear my gay ass panicked when we saw him in the commune. like, hello? this is not fair at all.

i also love that we've gotten to the point where despite viktor not being one to look at people and sexually fantasise about them, he cant help it with jayce and his enormous heart (aka that gigantic dump truck) HAHA

not jayce voicing his anxious thoughts and making v ill HAHAHAHA

how we feeling about viktor putting his affairs in order? D:

i also wonder what people would think when they saw them swaying at the party, jayce resting his chin on vs head and v softly smiling like THEYRE SO GAY YOUR HONOR. Jayce might think he's being platonic but my dude you just had a taste of your gay awakening 😂 you just don't know it yet 😂

It's also heartbreaking to me how from the outside V looks "lively", but then in his pov he's like, pls enough I am beyond exhausted. WELL IF YOU DIDNT PRETEND YOU ARENT ILL MAYBE THAT COULD HELP?

I hope you're all doing fantastic!

As always, any feedback and/or overall opinion is not only welcome, but deeply appreciated <3

tooodalooooo!

Chapter 21: Why do you persist?

Summary:

Little jayvik quest.

Conversations

Realizations

Notes:

TW IN ENDNOTES

hiya gorgeouseeeeeeees!

I was not particularly inspired for this one yall not gonna lie, we're in that stage where feelings are messy and contradicting and all of the things so bear with me :') (I'm starting to realize we've been on that stage the whole time 🤠☝️)

Also, a PSA:
I sometimes change previous chapters, add new context that only occurs to me after I let it simmer in my head, or change dialogues slightly (nothing major). So just in case, if any of you happen to reread stuff, youre not going crazy if something feels different somehow hahahah. It's one of my past-times to correct after the fact and it's just extremely inconvenient for the reader I'm afraid, soz :'D

Also a special thanks to Bexzonase for bringing me back to life midst my writing block with a single unexpected comment HAHA Thank you kindly, good human, for sharing your thoughts. Thanks to all of you, this community is top tier.

NOW ONTO JAYVIK

The scent of fresh coffee pulled Viktor from his sleep. 

 

It slithered into his subconscious and flirted with it, slowly nudging him back to the land of the living. 

 

When he cracked an eye open, a steaming mug sat on the table in front of the couch, wisps of heat curling upwards in an alluring dance. 

 

The pillow was still propped in front of Viktor's torso, abandoned with a hollow curve adorning its center and no sign of the culprit behind that perfectly measured indentation.

 

His hip ached slightly from lying in the same position for too long, but other than that, today seemed to be a good day. His lungs were not burning as much as the days past, despite there still being an underlying discomfort stubbornly simmering in the background. 

 

Viktor turned to face the ceiling and stretched his arms above his head, pulling his muscles from both extremities until his body trembled with the effort. There were several loud pops and cracks, joints clicking into place with their usual morning greeting echoing in the otherwise silent room.

 

When Viktor opened his eyes, Jayce’s upside-down face was hovering above him and watching with quiet curiosity.

 

“You okay?” Jayce murmured, tilting his head slightly as his eyes scanned Viktor's body. Then, just as swiftly, his focused concern roamed back to meet him. “That sounded like exploding bubble wrap.” 

 

Viktor returned Jayce's observant nature through slitted eyes. “Are you joint-shaming me first thing in the morning?” 

 

Jayce’s lips twitched. “It’s actually past lunchtime.” Viktor’s mouth parted in quiet surprise. “I was unsure if you were still with us.”

 

Jayce walked around the coffee table, setting down a plate of rice and chicken next to Viktor’s coffee before sinking into the armchair across from him. He took a slow sip from his mug, an amused gaze fixed upon Viktor.

 

“Unfortunately,” Viktor muttered, voice thick with sleep. Viktor rubbed it from eyes, attempting to shake away the inconvenient brain fog. After a moment, he refocused on Jayce. 

 

“How long have I been asleep?” 

 

Talis glanced toward the analog clock settled atop the television with a hum. “Around twenty hours.” 

 

Viktor’s eyes widened. “ Twenty hours!? ” 

 

Jayce nodded, hiding an undeniably smug curve behind the rim of his cup. Viktor glared at the cocky energy oozing from Jayce, one he was not yet sufficiently awake to efficiently slap off his demeanor. 

 

With some effort, Viktor pushed himself upright.

 

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept that long without any interruption, including from his own mind. Most weeks, he got by on three or four hours a night before his brain grew bored and poked him awake for stimulation. 

 

The rest had done its job, leaving Viktor feeling more restored than he had in a long time. Apparently, he’d needed it and been completely unaware of it.

 

Embarrassment warmed his cheeks at the mere thought that he’d allowed himself to fall asleep in the living room– Jayce’s current personal space, no less–because he’d been too… Too…

 

Too what? He demanded of himself with easy irritation. 

 

Too tired? Too comfortable? What?

 

Too weak, a voice accused from within. You were too weak to walk away.

 

Viktor shook the notion from his head before it could fester. Instead, he reached for his mug, wrapping his fingers around the warmth that lazily rolled out toward his limbs. 

 

“You rested?” Viktor asked casually, as if his thoughts hadn’t just attempted to drag him under with nightmarish realities he’d already survived.

 

Jayce had steered his attention to his notebook, ever the picture of morning productivity. At Viktor’s query, he peeped over the squared frame of his glasses and blinked. “Yes.”

 

Viktor smirked inwardly at his surprise, letting the silence stretch between them. 

 

After a beat, he dropped the word with playful ease. “Pity.” He hoped the sentiment would restore some normalcy to the strange tension still lingering in the room.

 

The corner of Jayce’s mouth quirked, hazel glinting with something sharper now. “As much as you allowed me to, anyways.” Leaning in just a little closer, his voice was laced with feigned serenity when he casually added, “I’m sure you're aware that you talk in your sleep.” 

 

Viktor’s stomach lurched, the possibility instantly uncomfortable. 

 

But he was also still half-asleep and far from able to come up with a satisfying retort. He cleared his throat lightly, fighting the unease.

 

“Anything interesting to report?”

 

Jayce’s lips curled with a secret. “Maybe.” 

 

“Oh, so we're being mysterious now, are we?” Viktor bit out.

 

With nonchalance, Jayce returned to his notes before saying, “It's unlike you to assume I'd offer that kind of information for free.” 

 

Viktor watched through slitted eyes, voice still thick with sleep. “You know what I would offer for free? Your head. On a pretty spike.”

 

The corners of Jayce’s mouth tugged upwards. “There’s that morning person I know.” Jayce reclined further into his armchair, his notebook propped against his folded knee as the soft scratch of his scribbles filled the air between them. The sneaky smile lingered. “Glad you agree my spike should be pretty.” 

 

Viktor rolled his eyes. He reached for the awaiting plate, taunting him with an aroma far too intriguing to dismiss. The moment the warm flavors melted in his tongue, an uncontrollable groan of satisfaction rumbled through his throat, eyes fluttering closed for the briefest of joys.

 

“When was the last time you cooked for yourself?” Jayce murmured, observing Viktor with an unwelcome interest.

 

Viktor leaned back, plate still in hand, and continued eating, soft contented sounds slipping away from him.

 

“Hm?” Jayce insisted, despite seeming equally distracted as he watched Viktor enjoy his food. 

 

Viktor chewed slowly, keeping his eyes locked onto his recently forced upon roommate. Finally, he swallowed, noting how Jayce followed the movement intently. 

 

“I, too, can withhold information,” Viktor imparted, savoring his words before adding, “Now, stop staring at me while I eat. It’s perturbing.” 

 

In truth, Viktor despised having any uninvited attention, regardless of circumstance. However, there was something behind Jayce’s stare that Viktor couldn’t quite place. It didn’t exactly bother him, per se, which only made it exponentially worse. 

 

He also had no recollection of the last time anyone had made him a proper meal. Including himself.

 

Jayce lowered his eyes back to his notebook, an arrogant smirk adorning his mouth. “It’s a rare sight: Viktor Jedlitzka actually eating something other than canned food and looking like he’s enjoying it.” Jayce shrugged. “I had to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.” 

 

Viktor kept his face impassive. “And you dream about me often, do you?” He shot back. 

 

Jayce snorted but didn’t say another word. 

 

Viktor finished his plate and moved through his morning routine mechanically. When he entered the kitchen to wash his dishes, it looked like a storm had passed through it. For as long as his limbs allowed him to, he roamed around the space, placing dirty utensils in the dishwasher and wiping down the counters. It was the least he could do for being fed without having to request it.

 

As he busied himself, Viktor’s mind began to go around in hellish circles. 

 

He wasn’t entirely sure what the new dynamic between them was evolving into. Being in close proximity was complicating everything exponentially, if only for the fact that Viktor had perfectly constructed a one-dimensional version of Jayce in his mind. One where he was a mere asshole who didn’t deserve an ounce of his time or respect. Someone Viktor actively wanted nothing to do with.

 

Yet, the more time Viktor spent in Jayce’s company, the more flashes would assault him of the person he once thought he knew. The more it egged him. As if the realities in his mind wouldn’t coincide, but would clash instead into a disarray of possibilities.

 

Flickering images of the Jayce from before. And the truth of the Jayce from the after. Two vastly different people to Viktor, despite incomprehensibly being one and the same.

 

Viktor didn’t know what to trust or what to believe. Appearances could be deceiving, and for the first time in a very long while, it was beginning to take purposeful effort to remind himself of just that. 

 

The man must have been some form of karmic retribution, because Viktor had never felt so utterly conflicted about anyone in his entire life. He despised himself for it.

 

But for now, he was stuck here. And although this whole experience was turning out to be excruciatingly fine , he still clung to the thought that it wouldn’t last forever. That eventually, he would happily leave it all behind– the agonising back-and-forth, the terrifying confusion, the draining reality of emotional hypervigilance. It was easier to focus on something else, to picture an escape to a life that promised relief, one that saved him from his own encumbering idiocy. 

 

Even if the thought of it didn’t feel nearly as righteous as it once had. But just as necessary.

 

As the afternoon progressed, Jayce and Viktor fell into a comfortable silence in the living room, each absorbed in their own task. The quiet stretched between them, with little exchanged beyond the occasional glance, the sound of pages turning or pens scribbling. Time passed like this, with neither filling the space with conversation.

 

Viktor couldn’t escape the relentless pull of the events from the night before. The memories of what had transpired between them glassed his vision, blurring the world around him as he was pulled into his own mind. There was an underlying urge to address it. 

 

Yet no words would offer themselves, no matter how much he wanted their rescued assistance. 

 

One part of him clung to the silence, convinced it was best to avoid the topic entirely– keep things distant, minimal.

 

But then there was another part, the one that recalled the agonizing echo of that whine , a sound that had burst into the open and was now impossible to extradite into the unknown.

 

However, a third part instilled a sharp reminder to prioritize his own pain, to avoid falling into old traps, to protect himself from repeating the mistakes that had already permanently carved themselves into his life.

 

And all the while, a different voice inside him couldn’t ignore the figments of someone in Jayce that Viktor had long dismissed as a construct of his wishful imagination. Someone he'd concluded to be a mask.

 

But then, there were these moments–flashes–where the man seemed so achingly genuine. It unsettled Viktor to his core, since it was that very same perceived sincerity that made Jayce so dangerous to Viktor in the first place.

 

And still, it intrigued him. Stupid as it was.

 

It was a kind of headache Viktor couldn’t quiet, especially around Jayce himself. And the thought of that confrontation nauseated him to the point of wondering if he would throw up before he ever got the words out. 

 

Viktor didn’t want reasons. He didn’t want to hear excuses, or circumstances, or intentions. He didn’t want to see things in any light that might justify what had happened. He didn’t want to be asked to empathize with the person who’d broken him in ways words failed to express. Jayce hadn’t deserved that consideration from Viktor. 

 

Still, Jayce was splintered, too, wasn’t he? Last night had rendered that conclusion undeniable.

 

There was a returning–and deeply exhaustive–suspicion within Viktor that wondered if any of it was actually real. Could it be that Viktor was being manipulated, again? That Jayce was showcasing hurt because he secretly knew Viktor was bound to fold to it? 

 

Or was Jayce truly someone he used to know, simply… in pain? 

 

Viktor tried, with intentional focus, to ignore the way Jayce’s gaze drifted toward the window over his shoulder. It was a conscious choice not to linger in the way the soft white light poured in, subtly softening Jayce’s hardened expression. How it seemed to coax out the amber in his eyes and the vulnerability seeping from within. 

 

The third time Viktor caught Jayce staring out of the window, chewing at his bottom lip, something within him finally cracked. He failed to ignore it any further.

 

“What’s that lip done to you?” Viktor inquired, his voice sounding quieter than he’d expected. The words slipped out before he realized– he hadn’t intended to use a leftover expression from way-back-when. One that, as their friendship supposedly grew, had come to directly mean, what’s on your mind?

 

Jayce tensed for a fraction of a moment, probably too immersed in his own thoughts to have noticed Viktor’s silent observation. He didn’t respond right away, and Viktor hoped he wouldn’t bring attention to his slip. 

 

The internal debate about whether or not to share was shortly lived. Jayce sighed, a heavy exhale that seemed to carry years of unspoken fatigue.

 

“Today is the anniversary of my mother’s passing,” Jayce confessed intimately, his longing now evident to Viktor. “I would have liked to go visit.”

 

Viktor hadn’t expected transparency. He was surprised to find Jayce so open to share such a personal detail with him. 

 

Viktor blinked in his direction. 

 

“Why don't you?”

 

Jayce kept his gaze fixed on the gloomy day beyond. “We’re on house arrest, remember?” 

 

Viktor tilted his head slightly, considering the situation with a mix of bemusement and practicality. “So? Sneak out. Lie about a small errand.” 

 

Jayce turned toward him then, his expression taken aback, as if the idea had never crossed his mind. It was almost as though he hadn’t even considered that there were other options outside of following the rules.

 

Fucking Pilties.  

 

“Oh… I, um–” He scratched his jawline. “I might do that, actually.”

 

“Good for you.” Viktor smiled to himself, thinking about how Jayce struggled to conceive doing anything that could be frowned upon. Again, a very misleading image of the actual man. 

 

“Would you like to come?” Jayce asked abruptly. 

 

Lifting his attention from his notes, Viktor’s curious regard collided with Jayce’s. The apprehension was palpable.

 

“See your mum?”

 

“...Yeah.” 

 

Viktor’s eyes slid to the window Jayce had been staring out of. The sky was a pool of ash, the chill in the air tangible from where he sat. He thought of how he missed the warmth of the sun– the kind that could soften the edges of a day like this.

 

“Yes.” His voice was quiet. “I think I would.” 

///

Jayce and Viktor got dressed to leave the house at around four P.M. When Viktor stepped back into the living room, crutch in hand, Jayce was wearing sunglasses and a yellow beanie. 

 

Viktor fought tooth and nail against the urge to tug his lips upwards at the distinct sight before him. 

 

He stared Jayce down instead. 

 

“ What are you wearing?” 

 

Jayce looked down at himself–the long black coat that reached his ankles–and lifted a brow as if the answer was self-explanatory. “I’m in disguise.” He gave Viktor an unconvinced glance over. “You need one, too.”

 

“I don’t think–”

 

Jayce was setting a random cap on his head, patting it in place as Viktor glared in his direction. Just in case , Jayce was murmuring to himself. 

 

When Viktor peeked in the mirror, something in the bottom right corner caught his attention. He leaned in, squinting his eyes to make sense of the tiny letters printed on the cap.

 

MILF HUNTER 

 

Viktor was momentarily horrified, his mouth falling open. He whirled and slapped Jayce’s arm on instinct, the action sharp with disbelief. Jayce turned toward him, eyes widened and waiting for clarification while he paused buttoning his coat. 

 

“I do not think this is appropriate,” Viktor announced.  

 

Jayce’s arched brows relaxed as his gaze fell to the last button, wriggling it into place as he offered with a flat tone, “It’s just a hat.”

 

“I meant– what it says,” Viktor clarified, voice a bit more pointed. “Considering... We’re going to see your mother.”

 

Jayce took his gloves out of his pocket. “It says something?” He bent forward and squinted, giving the accessory a proper glance over. Viktor rolled his eyes as he waited.

 

With a sharp gasp, Jayce whacked the hat out of Viktor’s head with his gloves, as if he were swatting a terrifying spider. 

 

Viktor, now disheveled, remained perfectly still, his expression carefully schooled into an unimpressed deadpan. Jayce was covering his mouth.

 

“Sorry!” He let out. “Sorry, sorry. I just– ”

  

Viktor’s mouth twitched. “How did you not know?” 

 

Jayce pointedly ignored him as he picked up the hat from the floor and selected another from the coat rack, placing it on Viktor’s head. Viktor wasted no time leaning into the mirror. 

 

WHERE’S MY FORESKIN

 

There it was, in minuscule letters. 

 

A chuckle bubbled out of Viktor, causing Jayce to snap his head sideways. 

 

“Please, don’t tell me this one has writing too.” 

 

One corner of Viktor’s mouth kicked up, holding for Jayce’s inspection. As he stepped closer, Jayce scrunched his face like an old man trying to read the small print of a menu, which only stoked Viktor’s amusement. 

 

As well as something else, that traitorous part of himself that beckoned to soften. It was a conflicting feeling, to witness the consequences of time and age affecting Jayce. Viktor never thought he would have been offered the chance.

 

The second the words registered, Jayce pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling sharply. “I am going to kill her.”

 

“Vi?” Viktor guessed with a light tone.

 

Jayce shoved the hat back onto the rack, exasperation rippling from the keen movement, before rifling through the others. “She’s been getting me these for years .”

 

Viktor hummed. “Perhaps this will teach you to start buying your own clothes.”

 

Jayce let out a quiet, barely perceptible chuckle. “Not if I can help it," he murmured with a faint smirk.

 

Viktor shifted his weight with the help of his crutch. “Have you–” He cleared his throat. “Have you worn them?” 

 

A telltale flush crept into Jayce’s ears, briefly visible when he removed his yellow beanie and swiftly shoved it into Viktor’s hands. “Take this one. I have more.” 

 

The blatant refusal to answer only made Viktor shake his head, lips pressing together to avoid having them stretch into a genuine smile as he imagined Jayce walking around with absolute nonsense stamped on his forehead while blissfully unaware. Jayce settled for a lime green beanie for himself.

 

As they stepped out of the building, both cast subtle glances around, scanning for enforcers. None in sight. Odd.

 

Viktor was sitting on a bench by the road, patiently waiting for Jayce to pull his car around when a modest flower stand caught his eye. Led by instinct, Viktor rose and crossed the street toward it. After having exchanged a few pleasantries with the vendor, Viktor walked away with a bouquet in hand.

 

The moment he slid into the passenger seat, he settled his crutch between his knees and rested the white gardenias against that familiar metal. Jayce turned to address him, but fell immediately quiet as his eyes flickered down to the flowers. 

 

He opened his mouth, then closed it. Opened it again. Nothing came out.

 

Viktor was secretly glad for it.

 

Despite the silent drive, it was easy to discern that the closer they got to the cemetery, the heavier Jayce’s demeanor became. 

 

Once arrived, Jayce circled the front of the car and opened Viktor’s door as he gathered his bearings. Hands folded behind his back, neck elongated, shoulders locked– his pose was as impeccable as ever in public. 

 

But his downcast eyes looked empty. 

 

Viktor followed him through the graveyard, the gray sky stretching endlessly above them as if it had predicted where they would be heading. 

 

Eventually, Jayce came to a stop in front of a marble headstone, hands buried deep in his coat pockets and head bowed.

 

For a moment, Viktor imagined him in this exact spot, year after year. Standing here, grieving in a shell of himself– alone.

 

It brought a new ache to Viktor’s chest. 

 

His gaze flickered to the inscription on the stone, then to the inviting patch of grass above her resting place. 

 

Viktor stepped closer.  “Do you have any rituals?” He asked gently.

 

Tension had taken root in Jayce’s posture, and he had grown more and more distant the closer they’d gotten, despite not uttering a single word. But now, standing before her headstone, Jayce was indisputably hollow– as if something had been scooped out of him.

 

“Sometimes I try to talk to her,” he admitted, his voice barely more than a breath. “But I– it just never– I don’t know, it never feels right. I usually just keep her company for a bit.” 

 

Viktor made a soft, low sound.

 

“Do you mind?” He gestured toward Meni’s resting place.

 

Jayce shook his head.

 

Viktor offered the headstone a sweet caress before setting the flowers tenderly against it. Then, he took a step back and, with painstaking effort, Viktor lowered himself onto the earth, stretching his legs before him to avoid unnecessary aches. He placed his crutch beside him and reclined, fingers interlacing in the grass and arms holding his weight against the soft ground.

 

“Hey, Meni,” Viktor greeted, unplanned warmth seeping into the words. A small smile tugged at his lips. “Sorry it took me so long to come see you. Things have been... chaotic, to say the least.” He gestured behind him. “I should mention I’m here with your son. I’m sure that’s the first thing you'd want to know about.”

 

Viktor turned his head, analysing Jayce from top to bottom before humming thoughtfully. “He’s a little rough around the edges now,” Viktor confessed to her. “But you would still recognize him beneath it all, I think.” 

 

He shifted to face the grave once more, trying to dampen the fact that he wasn’t alone. “I’m fairly certain that part of that change is a direct result of attempting to exist without you.” He gave the headstone a knowing look. “If you weren’t so extraordinary, maybe the living would have an easier time, eh?”

 

Jayce let out an amused huff somewhere behind him and Viktor felt the warmth unfurl in his chest at the sound. 

 

Viktor took a deep breath before continuing. “Alas, pain and love orbit one another until their inevitable collision.” Viktor held the strands between his fingers– not tearing them, but merely feeling the way they brushed against his skin. “What a conundrum.” He smiled softly. “An inescapable collapse that directly reflects the depth of our devotion.” 

 

Viktor lost himself to his own description before he snorted. “Considering his devotion to you is woven into the very fabric of his being, it’s no wonder your absence has irreparably changed him, no?”

 

There was a pause, and Viktor glanced behind him once again, finding Jayce’s honeyed eyes flickering to meet Viktor’s, something molten lurking within.

 

“Well?” Viktor prompted. “Are you going to join us?”

 

Jayce’s piercing gaze studied Viktor for a brief moment before he blinked. Then, his attention darted between the grave and Viktor, before taking a step forward. Taking a seat next to Viktor, Jayce crossed his legs with secret hesitation.

 

Something loosened in Viktor's throat.

 

“You know, he's as nosy as he's ever been,” he continued. “That hasn't changed.”

 

“Hey, come on,” Jayce protested in a light tone. “At least tell her the good things about me.” The low chuckle reached Viktor, enveloping him with an unanticipated warmth.

 

A heavy silence settled between them, causing Jayce to release a tight exhale through his nose. And Viktor wouldn’t know how to explain what came over him at that moment, because he began to speak without much filter. 

 

“I guess he still makes a mean cup of coffee,” Viktor admitted. “Even though I have yet to see him drink one, which means he remains tasteless.”

 

Jayce scoffed at the jab.

 

“Still as hard-headed,” Viktor added as a response to that sound. “But… he’s been feeding me. Offered his bed, rescued me from… unfortunate bath-related incidents. I try not to bring it up in fear he'll turn insufferable, you know how he is. But I cannot lie to you now. He might have changed Meni, but he seems to hold many of the qualities that shaped the person you were always so proud to call your son. You can rest knowing he's, intrinsically, as fussy as ever.” 

 

Viktor made a conscious effort to avoid looking in Jayce’s direction. He didn’t want to see whether or not his words meant anything to him– at the end of the day, his speech was for Meni.

 

“As for me… I still don't feel like I'm quite back, yet. It certainly doesn't help that you're not here. I miss learning about topics I would have never sought out for myself. Sometimes, when I hear tid-bits regarding celebrity gossip, and even though it's entirely meaningless to me, I still catch myself in the habit of sharpening my attention so that I can later pass the information on to you.” Viktor snickered quietly. “Every time I did, you got that mischievous grin– horribly contagious.” 

 

Jayce chuckled beside him. 

 

Viktor glimpsed at the headstone, but his thoughts strayed. There was more he wanted to say, things that weighed on him, but not now. Not in front of Jayce. Still, he did not know when he would return, and there were some things that could not wait.

 

It was his custom to speak as if all could hear. And even though it felt incredibly unnatural to be vulnerable, especially in front of Jayce, Viktor prioritised making his peace despite the current circumstances. 

 

Viktor leaned in, splaying his hand on the grass. 

 

“I'm sorry I wasn't present,” he said with a tender tone. “To be with you in the end and return the favor.” Viktor sniffled, the cool breeze brushing through his coat. His mouth curved into a soft smile as he concluded, “You always were, and will continue to be, alive in my thoughts of you.” 

 

Viktor took a deep breath and let it out slowly. After mentioning the most imminent matters, he allowed himself to speak of other topics that he believed Meni might enjoy. 

 

“Now, if you're wondering why we're wearing such conspicuous hats, it is because Jayce hasn’t got the first idea about what it means to blend in.” 

 

“Oi!” Jayce complained, his brows knitting and a faint smile tugging on the corners of his lips. “Nobody saw us, I’d call that a great success.” 

 

Viktor raised a brow, his tone dry. “Which should lead us to conclude that there wasn't anyone there to see.” He pointed at himself. “I'm practically neon.” 

 

“And yet, you still pull it off,” Jayce grumbled, narrowing his eyes distrustfully. 

 

Viktor made a face. “To quote directly from your vast repertoire of articulate expressions: ha, ha.”

 

Jayce visibly softened, his smile a reflection of a perceived compliment. Viktor felt the urge to shift focus. 

 

He faced the headstone once more. 

 

“Did you know he’s grown a beard? ” He allowed his surprise to filter through his tone. “I'm sure you'd have the most intriguing things to say about that.” 

 

Jayce gave a small gasp of hushed indignation. “My ma would’ve loved the beard.” 

 

Viktor stared at him for a moment before addressing the ground directly. “Can you believe this? He's your son and still, he doesn't know you.” 

 

“She would have said it looked manly,” Jayce voiced proudly. 

 

“She would have said it looked like a wet rag,” Viktor deadpanned after a beat. “She would have loved it simply because it was attached to you . Idiot.” Jayce’s jaw had dropped and Viktor couldn't fight the smile crawling upwards in his mouth. “Meni." Viktor pointed his thumb sideways in a casual gesture. "Tell him."

 

“No, ma!” Jayce protested, a tone that struck Viktor with a familiarity that instantly dissolved the concept of time. “Tell Viktor he is shamefully projecting his misguided thoughts onto you.” 

 

“Me?” Viktor turned toward him, the perfect picture of innocence. “What has given you the impression I'm against it?” 

 

There was a tense silence. Jayce looked to the side and Viktor suppressed his satisfaction in knowing that if Jayce had been standing, he would have been shifting his feet. His gaze returned to Viktor’s with a slight curiosity. “You're not?” 

 

This silly reaction was such a great contrast to the outside appearance of the man. It was a glimpse into a Jayce that Viktor knew quite well, and wondered if many got to meet. 

 

Viktor turned towards the headstone, a new smirk unfurling in his lips. “See? I told you. Nosy.” 

 

Jayce let out a belly laugh. 

 

“Well, in the spirit of sharing, Viktor has also changed, ma. You'd love to see him. He grew out his hair! Looks more like himself, if you can believe that. Still as stubborn as a mule, but you always liked that about him, for some reason.” 

 

“She has impeccable taste.” 

 

Jayce’s mouth slowly curved upwards with each spoken word. “I'll admit he's not the worst company to keep– except when my workspace looks like Mr. Post-It came in and threw up all over it.” 

 

“It was my pleasure.”

 

Jayce was shaking his head with a newly blossoming smile. “And I guess some of his corrections on my board ended up being helpful.” 

 

“ Some? ” Viktor let his amusement sneak through his baffled look. “You speak to your mother with that mouth?”

 

Jayce at last smiled broadly at the ground. “There you have it, ma. In the flesh, in case you'd blissfully forgotten.”

 

They spoke for a while. There weren't any topics in particular, just whatever nonsense crossed their head, always including Meni in the conversation as if she were truly present. For a brief moment, it felt like she was. 

 

When they stood to leave, Jayce paused and asked, “Can you give me a minute?”

 

Viktor nodded as he strode away, giving Jayce enough berth to allow him some privacy. 

 

This evening had shaken Viktor and he was inexplicably torn. 

 

There was a recognition from within, a thread pulling at his core. Viktor wanted to lose himself in it, as he'd once had. It would be ludicrously easy. 

 

But another part of him throbbed. In a momentarily forgotten anguish, in a betrayal that was so easily shoved to the side, in an anger that simmered and was still patiently awaiting to be unleashed. 

 

Seeing more of Jayce was reminding Viktor of the exact person who had shattered him. Seemingly genuine, seemingly kind, seemingly considerate. Effortless to be around. 

 

The comparisons were tearing him in two. 

 

Now, alone, Viktor felt his mind flicker with fragmented flashes, disorienting and warping his grip on reality. Blinding lights, instruments clattering to the floor, words being hurled in public like fatal daggers.

 

Viktor was so, so tired. A kind of exhaustion that he had ignored, placed in a corner inside himself and wholeheartedly forgotten about. It was starting to become clear that, although it had been out of his mind for years, that burnout had still inadvertently bled into everything. 

 

This soulful exhaustion wasn’t anything like the one he’d routinely experienced when he was terminal, no. That one had been almost violent, visceral in tearing him down and continuing to kick him to keep him from rising again.

 

This fatigue was something else entirely. It had crept up on him since returning to Piltover, lurking and stretching under his skin without any apparent cause. It was starting to make Viktor wonder if it had been a mistake to return, regardless of professional conquests. Perhaps Piltover no longer agreed with him. 

 

The only way Viktor could think to describe it is as if he had been carrying a boulder on his back for years, unconsciously dragging it regardless of where he went, and was only now being made aware of its existence. 

 

Viktor didn’t know where to put it down, this imaginary boulder that was completely out of sight and beyond his reach. One he was getting further acquainted with each passing day.

 

What if he never found a place to put it down? What if it was merged into his spine? 

 

Staring at Jayce’s approaching figure–and with a heavy sigh–Viktor resorted to doing the only thing he possibly could at this moment. 

 

He set boundaries. 

 

Just because the two of them could share a moment of peace didn’t mean trust , or respect , or acceptance had been earned. Viktor felt a deeply embedded need to mark the difference between begrudging companionship or… whatever else. 

 

This had been an exception, a counted moment suspended in time for a person who was no longer here. No lines were blurred, and that flooded Viktor with instant relief. 

 

Jayce’s expression, unaware of the turn Viktor’s thoughts had taken, folded gently in a gesture dipped in fondness as he continued to get closer.

 

Instinctively, he reached for Viktor’s lower back to guide him forward, a motion vaguely familiar to them both.

 

Except, this time, Jayce must have perceived the tension radiating from Viktor's rigid shoulders, for he lowered his hand before it ever came close enough to touch. 

///

Something was shifting inside Jayce. A violently thrusted and encrusted stalactite was melting from within and giving way to something new. 

 

It was terrifying. 

 

He'd been genuine in his want to have one last night with his long-lost friend, he'd meant every word in the moment. 

 

Now, it didn't seem like nearly enough. 

 

He found himself urgently craving more: more talks, more honesty, more of that laughter he'd been too scared to forget. One that still rang loud and true to this day, one he'd mourned and yet been fortunate enough to experience again– in his own living room, no less. 

 

Jayce was actively losing the battle against his pride and he did not know for how much longer he could keep it up. With every passing day, every domestic interaction with Viktor, that blinding need to protect himself was disintegrating further. 

 

Those lies he’d convinced himself of, unraveling into nothing.

 

He had no idea what had come over him last night. For someone who'd been consumed by ruthless ups and downs, ones separated by periods of absolute nothingness, he hadn't been aware that those feelings were still so close to the surface. So impossibly raw. 

 

That was how it had been for the last eight years: moments of sharp agony, followed by stretches of apathy so complete, they robbed him of any meaning and purpose. Hence, the desperate search to stop time. Or, now in retrospect, to make himself feel something.

 

Many times he'd tried to release himself from that ball of pain he’d unknowingly nurtured within. It had been years since the last time he'd let himself cry over that aftermath, giving way to the numbing, waiting limbo– one that had settled a little bit further with every passing day. It had led Jayce to assume that, at this point, much of it must have been solidified.

 

Until yesterday. 

 

Jayce hadn't entirely let go. A side of himself had come to the surface to grip his pain by the throat in order to keep it in check. 

 

However, this time around, he hadn't managed to fully succeed. 

 

And Viktor… He'd welcomed it, in some strange way. He'd allowed himself to see Jayce– to see that he, too, was in pain. 

 

He'd tried to comfort Jayce.

 

He’d stayed. Again.

 

It was baffling and complex, and Jayce had felt a flutter of butterflies swarming his chest and stomach at the stark realization: Viktor had asked him to stay, in his own construed little way. Even if for a fleeting moment. Even if as a favour to Jayce.

 

Jayce hadn’t expected that kind of kindness from Viktor. That fact was carved into him, like a laser searing into metal, forever stained.

 

And yet, Viktor had defied it with nothing but two simple words. 

 

Come here.

 

Just the memory of how those syllables had fallen from Viktor’s lips made Jayce shiver. The tenderness in his deep voice, the openness of his expression– it had felt as though Viktor saw something in Jayce worth redeeming.

 

But those moments were fleeting, always slipping away before Jayce could fully make sense of them.

 

And what if I don't want to be touched by you?  

 

The words had burst out in panic, a reflex to protect himself.

 

The truth, though, was that Jayce longed for Viktor’s touch in ways he wouldn’t know how to describe. He missed the coolness of his skin, the way it tempered the intensity of his own. He missed the unspoken ease of a simple shoulder squeeze. He missed Viktor’s soothing scent wrapping around him, as much as he missed Viktor’s hands laced in his hair, the velvet brush of his fingers singing with comfort against his scalp.

 

Not to mention any other type of touches. Jayce was attacked with images of those, as well. They reverberated inside the shameful confines of his mind– that morning alone served as proof of it. 

 

But those were inconsequential in comparison.

 

He'd given anything to have been pulled and enveloped into Viktor’s arms yesterday– Jayce had wanted it more than anything. It was pointless to deny it. 

 

Viktor was the only person whom Jayce suspected could help mend him with an embrace. 

 

Those feelings, coming to the surface with an uninvited violence, had outright mortified him. 

 

Jayce couldn't give himself like this. He couldn't allow himself to actually want it, couldn’t allow himself to need it– Viktor’s touch. Jayce would not have been able to cope if Viktor chose to embrace him with softness one moment, only to go back to hating him the next. That dichotomy, that crushing uncertainty– it made Jayce prefer not to feel it at all. 

 

And yet, after the cemetery– something new was also blossoming within Jayce, growing into the cracks of that thawing stalactite. Something akin to hope. 

 

Seeing his former friend speak so adoringly to his mother had brought him both profound gratitude, as well as deep-rooted shame. Countless times, Jayce had begged his mother to let go of Viktor, to forget his existence entirely– to the point where he’d had to resort to selfish measures. 

 

But witnessing, firsthand, why she had held on–why she had been so determined not to part without speaking to him–Jayce now understood. Their friendship had been genuine in a way he had blinded himself to.

 

Watching Viktor turn a harrowing visit into something incomprehensibly beautiful had brought a flood of emotions that crashed through whatever protective measures Jayce had been attempting to previously glue inside himself. It was as if Viktor had taken Jayce’s broken heart and, for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, carefully cradled it between loving hands. Even if that care had to do with someone else entirely.

 

Whether he’d been aware or not while doing it– that was its own investigation.

 

Still, the evidence was stacking up– evidence that suggested Viktor might not be so indifferent, after all. Just had his walls impossibly high.

 

And That. Changed. Everything.  

 

It was giving way to a new want, one that craved to rip everything into the open and let it bleed and bleed and bleed. 

 

If only out of curiosity to see if the bleeding between them would eventually stop. If in that aftermath, there was a reality where they could remain in each other’s lives, somehow. It wouldn’t have to be as it had once been; Jayce completely accepted that such a thing could never be. 

 

But what if they could create something new? 

 

Viktor. In Jayce's life. Viktor . 

 

Viktor. Viktor. Viktor. Viktor. 

 

The thought alone made his chest tighten and his heart thunder, mirroring the symphony of this impossibility bursting at the seams. 

 

Jayce wondered if he was nothing more than an errant meteoroid, endlessly orbiting around a force with too powerful a pull. 

 

And yet, it was becoming glaringly obvious: something within Jayce was beginning to rise. Preparing to fight back and offer one last attempt to oppose their slow, inevitable extinction with everything he had left to offer. Consequences and all, at least this way he could live with the what-ifs. 

 

Whenever Jayce caught even the smallest glimpse of proof of care from Viktor, those lifelines quickly wrapped around his wrists, his neck, his ankles– and they all tugged to slowly lift his soul from that pit of punished neglect.

 

He'd felt it. Their connection. It pulsed, faint but unmistakable. His friend was still in there, and Jayce suspected that part of him wanted to come out.

 

Even if Viktor was adamant on executing that version of himself in cold blood every chance he got. 

 

Maybe Jayce could do something about that. 

 

It was disturbing to find that Jayce wanted to do something about that. 

 

Viktor deserved to express his pain, to have it welcomed just the same, without judgment. Jayce would have to prepare for what that explosion might actually look like.

 

But herein lay the trick. 

 

The more Jayce pushed, the more Viktor retreated. Yet, if he stopped pushing, there was a chance Viktor would disappear altogether.

 

It was a peculiar dance. One he was eager to learn if it meant he could make the most out of whatever time Viktor decided to stick around for. If it meant that, maybe–just maybe–, there could be a soft and peaceful epilogue to their story. 

 

He had things to say. Things to offer. Explanations to give.

 

Jayce needed to wait for the moment when Viktor was ready– let him come to Jayce, instead. Maybe he simply needed to proceed as he once had, before everything had collapsed on itself: remain steady, remain available, remain open, and see what happened when Jayce felt encouraged to poke the grizzly bear.

 

And pray he didn’t get his head chewed off, or his soul ripped apart, in the process. 

 

Unfortunately, Jayce knew better than to pray to a desolate heaven.

///

Jayce and Viktor returned to the apartment to find the area still devoid of enforcers. Viktor was starting to wonder, but he decided to let it be for now, and allow for his suspicions to be confirmed in their due time.

 

They had agreed to share a drink in Meni’s honor, raising their glasses to her life and the lasting impact she had on those around her. They spoke here and there, but mostly kept each other in comfortable company.

 

A long silence stretched between them before Viktor finally interrupted it.

 

“So,” Viktor prompted. He tugged his hair into a bun for this conversation, one he’d been preparing himself all day to actually voice. “About… The video.” 

 

At just those few words, Jayce’s neck visibly tensed.

 

“It's fine,” he quickly dismissed. 

 

Viktor remained quiet for a moment, softly exhaling through his nose. “It's not.” 

 

Jayce perked up his attention at the shared admission, sitting up in the armchair as he poignantly settled his eyes on Viktor. 

 

“I shouldn't have gone through your personal folder,” Viktor continued, voice steady but low. “It was wrong of me and I… apologise.” 

 

Jayce blinked, lips parting slightly– startled by the words coming out of Viktor’s mouth. “It was an invasion of your privacy. Especially when you left the computer… In good faith.” 

 

Jayce shook his head slowly, a small, almost incredulous huff escaping him.

 

“I honestly couldn't give two shits about my privacy.” 

 

Viktor arched his brow. 

 

Jayce set his tumbler against his knee, fingers fidgeting briefly around the rim, turning it on itself. “Does it feel violated? Yes, of course.” His nod was almost absent-minded. Then, as his gaze returned to Viktor’s, something ferocious flickered behind it– something that made Viktor’s stomach tighten. “But that topic means nothing in comparison to the one we ended up discussing. Like holding a pebble to a mountain.” 

 

Jayce swallowed, clearly measuring his words carefully. “I'm glad it happened and assume it won't happen again.” 

 

Viktor hummed lowly in his throat. 

 

“So, it’s proof you’re after,” he voiced into the room. Jayce kept his focus on his glass, nodding to himself, embodying the image of nonchalance. “How’s that going for you?” 

 

A small twitch of his lips. “I’m getting there.” 

 

“Are you, now?” 

 

“Wouldn’t you say?” 

 

“No,” Viktor admitted plainly, his voice sounding almost mechanical. The overwhelming flashes and intrusive thoughts of the day had come down on him with an unexpected brutality, but there was not a single amber of anger in sight. He almost spoke as if he were on autopilot. “I don’t think there’s much proof for you to collect in that department, least of all now. It might benefit us both to accept that.”

 

“You can accept whatever you want.” Jayce took a measured sip of his drink, eyes gleaming with something mischievous. “I think I’ll conduct my own investigation, thank you.” 

 

Viktor exhaled, slow and tired. 

 

“Why do you persist?” He asked quietly. Jayce’s head leaned back lightly, startled by the unexpected question. Viktor let his tired soul speak for itself. “Why?”

 

Jayce watched him in silence, the tip of his finger brushing the edge of his tumbler, moving his thumb back and forth, back and forth.

 

“Because I see you,” he responded in a voice thick with something raw. “Whether you like it or not.” 

 

Bullshit.

 

Viktor stared, taking in those hazel eyes for the challenge they presented. “No amount of proof or discussion will change anything. ”

 

Jayce shrugged. “It might.” 

 

“Is that what you're clinging to? After all these years?” A mirthless sound echoed from his throat. That relentless attitude unnerved him. “We're not who we used to be, Jayce.” 

 

“We're not so different, either.” 

 

Viktor scoffed. “I am,” he affirmed with profound resolution. 

 

Jayce’s brows pinched upward. His knowing eyes scanned Viktor’s expression, a modest concern bleeding through. 

 

“Can’t you see?” Viktor asked, his voice threatening to break. He shut his lids and focused on his breathing. When he opened them anew, there was a newfound honesty behind them. “I am irrevocably changed. For the worse.”

 

Viktor leaned forward, settling his empty glass on the table. “You've turned me bitter, cynical, and hateful. What you..." Viktor restrained himself, unwilling to further prompt the topic. "I carry that with me everywhere I go, even if you don't.” 

 

Jayce took in the words spoken into the open, fingers fidgeting still as his throat bobbed. 

 

“And what makes you so certain I don't?” He finally asked, his approach clearly measured.

 

“If you did, you'd be ashamed to look me in the eye.” 

 

There was a slight flinch within Jayce’s expression, barely perceptible to the naked eye. But Viktor was watching. 

 

Viktor was always watching him. 

 

“The fact that you can just shows me that you still don't see me . You see a reflection of your past self.” The anger crawled up into his gaze, one that was entirely focused on Jayce. Yet, somehow, he didn’t feel it. At present time, the act resembled a muscle memory trigger, something that was meant to go hand in hand with the topic at hand. Viktor was so worn out, yet abandoning this fight felt like giving in to the reaper's embrace. “I can't stand it.” 

 

Despite the exhaustion and the half-truths, Viktor still knew he was right. Jayce didn’t see Viktor , he saw whatever was convenient to keep his self-image and version of reality intact. As it had occurred already, back then.

 

And while stumbling into mindless banter could be addicting, it was not satisfying in the slightest. Above anything else, it made Viktor feel invisible. As if his voice didn’t matter. As if he were being asked to shove aside his hurt to keep someone else wrapped up in their comforting delusion. 

 

And all the same, Viktor was not inclined to engage in conversations where he would have to convince a perpetrator of their wrongdoings. 

 

And that unfairness, in this vulnerable moment, pained Viktor as if he’d momentarily embodied his younger self. 

 

“What would you have me do?” Jayce inquired, leaning to rest his elbows on his knees.

 

Viktor pursed his lips. “No filters?”

 

Jayce responded with a genuine nod. “No filters.”

 

“Get on your knees. Crawl. Beg. Cry. Apologise– and know, with excruciating precision, what for.” 

 

His brows arched toward his hairline. A new clarity settled, and Jayce released a long exhale before he nodded solemnly. 

 

“You want me to suffer.” 

 

There was no judgment in the statement, mere consideration. 

 

I used to.

 

Then again, that wasn’t as true anymore, was it? Viktor had gotten a glimpse of suffering from Jayce and any sense of self-preservation had been hurled out the window. 

 

He was slightly ashamed of it.

 

The mind pushed through like a well-oiled machine.

 

“A high percentage of the time, yes.” 

 

It was strange, to be having a brutal conversation under such a completely detached state of mind.

 

Funnily enough, Jayce also did not seem hurt in the slightest by Viktor’s remarks. 

 

“And what does the other percentage want?” Jayce asked, genuine curiosity leading his questioning.

 

“To leave. To never see you again. To abandon this project, for my own sanity, and procure another challenge elsewhere.” 

 

Jayce was massaging his chin, deep in thought. He eventually paused and lifted his eyes, an unspoken heat behind them. “And why don't you?” 

 

Viktor’s stomach clenched. 

 

“Because it's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.” 

 

Jayce sighed, clasping his hands in the middle and interlacing his fingers. “So putting up with me is just collateral damage.” 

 

Reclining once more, Viktor rested the back of his head against the edge of the couch and decided to shut his eyes. “Something like that.” 

 

The tense quiet vibrated between them, like the low thrum of a vehicle. 

 

“I am sorry, you know? Maybe not in the way you’d like me to be, but–” 

 

Viktor lifted a hand abruptly and cut Jayce off at once. His heart ached inside him, bleeding from a wound that Viktor had ensured to cauterize. 

 

Yet, if that were the case– it wouldn’t be bleeding, would it?

 

These were a taste of the pointless conversations Viktor had been trying to avoid. The ones that led to nothing but more of the same.

 

He let his automatic self continue with the expected dialogue options. 

 

“Then maybe we should go our separate ways. Perhaps all of this fraternization is not healthy for either of us. It's bringing up much of a time I consider to be long past dead and buried.” 

 

And of all the things Viktor had expected Jayce to say, he went with the most unexpected of them all.

 

“I think you're full of shit.” 

 

And just like that, Viktor was awake. 

 

“Excuse me?” 

 

“I'll make you a deal.” Jayce was smirking at him, which he found both unsettling and surprising. “If by the time you leave the apartment, I can prove to you that this,” he gestured between them, “is not dead and buried , I win. If I don't, then you can finally get your wish.” 

 

Viktor massaged his temples with circular motions, pressing the tip of his digits in silent comfort– as well as in prayer. 

 

“Jayce, this is doing the opposite of what I'm suggesting we do. I refuse to get further entangled.” 

 

“Then don’t.” Jayce leaned back slightly, a small, almost amused tilt to his lips. “But you’ll always remain partially in the dark, simply because you failed to consider alternative variables before jumping to conclusions. And here I thought you were always so meticulous about avoiding biases.”

 

It was such an obvious ploy. 

 

Why… was his determination luring Viktor’s curiosity?

 

Viktor was staring daggers at the man sitting across from him. “I don't owe you anything.” 

 

“You don't,” he agreed. “It's up to you.” 

 

Viktor narrowed his eyes. “You seem rather cocky about your ability to rise victorious out of such a deal.” 

 

Lips stretched into a small grin, and something inside Viktor zeroed in on it. “I am,” Jayce stated with a confident nod.

 

“What do you want, then?” Viktor wondered aloud, admittedly intrigued by Jayce’s sudden change in energy.

 

“If I win,” he started, crossing his hands behind his head with an impish glow coating his eyes, “you tell me about your project. I want to know what you’re up to with the crystal.” 

 

Viktor’s brows furrowed. “With what purpose?” 

 

“You want your project to be the chosen one, right?” Jayce shrugged with proficient nonchalance. “Maybe we can help each other.” 

 

Viktor scoffed loudly. “Why on earth would I want your help? You've barely published any research– you're basically a one-hit wonder.” Viktor watched as Jayce’s jaw slackened. He smirked something sharp. “And that's because of me .” 

 

There was a flash of something Viktor couldn’t quite place behind Jayce’s eyes. “Ouch.” 

 

The quiet lingered until, unforeseenly, a knowing smile bloomed on Jayce’s lips. “Is this your way of letting me know you've been keeping up with my work?”

 

Amidst his deadpan, Viktor raised a brow. “What work?”

 

The hostility in the air between them thickened as they kept their respective glares fixated on the other.

 

They were playing a game and that seemed infinitely more tantalizing to Viktor than pretending to be perpetually angry for the sake of survival. Might as well challenge each other, wasn’t that where they always thrived?

 

It didn't mean Viktor had to offer anything else.

 

Jayce took the last swig of his drink. “If you're so convinced I'm not going to win, it shouldn't even matter all that much, should it?” 

 

Viktor sighed. “Very well.”

 

A certain excitement flickered inside Jayce, and Viktor knew he was attempting to repress it because his leg would bounce from time to time. But it was unmistakable to Viktor– he’d seen it time and time again painted in his disposition with every color of the rainbow. It was the sort of thing one committed to memory.

 

“For the record, what do you want, exactly?” Jayce inquired. 

 

“To cut contact.” Viktor could hear the blood rushing in his ears through the emptiness crowding his chest. “For good.” 

 

Jayce swallowed. 

 

“Okay, then.” 

 

“And your crocs,” Viktor added smoothly. 

 

Jayce smiled broadly, a contagious thing. “You don’t say.” 

 

“Them and I– we are interlinked.” 

 

“I see how it is,” Jayce chuckled. He observed Viktor with a quiet intensity that almost seemed to thrum. 

 

“Fine," he finally conceded. "It’s a deal.” 

 

Setting his tumbler down, Jayce stood. He disappeared into the darkened hallway, only to emerge with a shoe box in his hands. Carefully, he set it on the table, his hand immediately lifting to massage his nape. 

 

“Considering what day today is, it finally feels appropriate to give you this.”

 

Viktor’s fingers twitched as he eyed the mysterious box. Drifting his gaze upwards, he waited for Jayce to offer any further explanations. 

 

“When you left, my mum–” Jayce breathed out slowly. “She wanted to keep in touch with you, somehow. She often expressed how much she missed you, so she took to writing you letters. Considering you didn’t want to be reached, she stored them in case you ever happened to return.” 

 

Viktor’s heart was hammering inside his rib-cage, creating a gallop that was sucking out the oxygen in the room.

 

“I thought about burning them, throwing them out– so many different times. But I never managed to go through with it.” 

 

“How come?” Viktor asked with a small voice.

 

Jayce lifted his vulnerable gaze, returned to a familiar green under the warm light of the living room.

 

“They weren’t mine to burn,” he confessed quietly. 

 

Tentatively, Viktor reached for the lid and tapped it to the side. 

 

There were dozens of envelopes. Each decorated a date on the top right corner, and every single one was addressed To my darling V.

 

A pressure crushed Viktor’s lungs, as if an elephant had chosen to sit on his chest. He didn’t know what to say.

 

“Thank you for today,” Jayce added with surprising softness. “Having you there made all the difference, and I thought you deserved to know. I can assure you, if there’s an afterlife, my mum is jumping up and down in it as we speak.” 

 

Viktor couldn’t hold in the small smile that crept up his mouth, despite the lump in his throat. “I am happy to hear it.” 

 

“And Viktor.” Jayce’s weighted stare pinned him in place and Viktor held his breath. “I’m not going anywhere. You can do and feel whatever feels right to you, but I will be here. Where I’ve always been– waiting." Jayce's green eyes were fierce as they burned into Viktor. "For you."

 

And once more, Viktor was reminded that Jayce was no longer just a boy. It was a man who stared back at him– broad, confident, resolute. The unexpected and fleeting power radiating from Jayce–one that rattled Viktor substantially–sent a hot flash through his stomach. A fickle warmth that rippled through his body. 

 

Jayce tugged his lips upwards. "With open arms,” he concluded. The look in his eyes dimmed ever so slightly, his tone adopting a casual earnestness. “And I hope you know I say that with no expectations.” 

 

Viktor was struck stupid. 

 

He was clueless as to where this was coming from, why it was being shared, what it meant, what it was supposed to signify or represent. 

 

Viktor was caught so off-guard that all he could hear in his mind was a deafening silence.

 

They watched each other once more, inescapably locked– but for once, there wasn't any rancour.

 

Viktor had no idea how much time passed until he finally murmured, “Okay.” 

///

Viktor couldn’t sleep. 

 

He was tossing and turning in bed, completely restless even though he felt exhausted. 

 

After his time sitting on the grass without any back support, his entire spine was aching and protesting.

 

But that’s not what robbed him of his sleep.

 

I will be here, where I’ve always been– waiting.

 

For you.  

 

Without giving it much thought–and seeing the warm light still seeping from under his door–, Viktor reached for his aid and pulled himself off the bed. 

 

Jayce was sitting on the couch, clad in sweatpants and a tank top– which was absurd considering the slight chill in the air. Several books lay open on the table, a pencil held between his lips. He glanced up as Viktor emerged from the darkened hallway.

 

“Oh. Hi,” he greeted, the sounds muffled through the barrier in his mouth.

 

Viktor grunted in acknowledgment, nodding toward the books. “Can’t sleep?” 

 

Jayce reached for the pencil to free himself for speech and grimaced.

 

“No, not really.” He gave Viktor a quick glance over. “You?” 

 

Viktor shook his head. The words clawed at his throat, so he ripped them out like a bandage.

 

“I think you should come to bed.” 

 

Jayce’s brows raised in a high arch, shooting towards his hairline. “Come again, now?” 

 

Viktor leveled him with a nasty look. “I don’t feel right about taking your bed. The guest room is filled with clutter, and I can’t sleep on the couch for my own sanity. The bed is wide enough, we can both fit, and you needn’t go without and strain your body further in the process.” 

 

Eyes widened to the size of golf balls were staring at Viktor. They gave a slow blink. “Wh- Really?” 

 

“Yes. If it turns out to be a horrendous experience, we’ll just revert back.” 

 

Jayce dropped the pencil with a clatter on the table, leaving all of his belongings as they were. “Alright, then.” 

 

As he stood to his full height, Viktor felt a pressing need to clarify. “And this does not count for your little game of proof. I’m a guest, these are simply called manners. ” 

 

“Of course,” Jayce voiced solemnly. “We both know how devoted you are to those.” 

 

Viktor fought against the smile that wanted to blossom in his mouth. Instead, he pivoted toward the bedroom and ordered, “Bring the cushions.” 

 

Jayce shut the door behind him, a profound sigh coming out of him as he trailed around the bed. His thighs brushed against the mattress, the living room cushions held between his grip and flaunted in front of Viktor for clarification.  “Where do you want these?” 

 

At the sight of Viktor’s expectant hands, Jayce passed them over without complaint. With careful precision, Viktor lined them up in the center of the bed, padding them one after the other, that empty sound echoing around them as a clear barricade came into view. 

 

Sliding under the covers, Jayce eyed the wall of pillows with clear amusement.

 

“What's this for?” He asked with a chuckle. “Do you really think I’m going to ambush you in your sleep?” 

 

Viktor scoffed, turning his back to Jayce as he lay down on his side, curling into the comfort of his pillow.

 

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” he muttered. 

 

He couldn’t precisely see Jayce’s frown from this position, but Viktor heard it in his voice. It made him want to laugh, for some idiotic reason. 

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

 

Viktor reached for his lamp, and with a soft click , the room was swallowed in darkness. He focused on steadying his breath, even as Jayce remained upright beside him, no doubt staring at the back of his head.

 

“Viktor? You can’t just– hello?” 

 

Silence was his only answer. A frustrated groan followed, then the rustling of sheets, a curt pull, and the thud of a pillow being adjusted. 

 

“Hate doesn’t even begin to cover,” Jayce muttered once settled, although mirth interlaced in the cadence of his words. 

 

Viktor hummed with low satisfaction. Sleep was already claiming him, yet he felt the gnawing need to assure, “The feeling is entirely mutual.” 

 

Even in the dark, even unseen, Viktor could feel the shift in the silence, the quiet anger pulsating from the other side of the bed. Finally, a loud sigh. 

 

“You really are the worst, though.” 

 

Viktor let out an amused, sharp exhale.

 

“Remind me again in the morning,” he murmured with a softness that surprised himself.

 

Their breathing slowly fell into rhythm, each inhale and exhale weaving together in the quiet– synchronized and deepening by the second. 

 

The memory of a past comfort flickered in his mind.

 

Before he could count to twenty, Viktor was fast asleep.

Notes:

TW: casual drinking, death related matters, PTSD flashbacks/triggers (not specific), manipulation

///

Teheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee how we feelin

- hat: "milf hunter"
J: *dramatic gasp* NO!!! WHAT DID YOU SAY ABOUT MY MA, BRO??? D:<
under MY roof?!?!?

- I love that most topics v brings up with meni (outside serious) is anything she'd be able to judge AHAH queen

- WE'RE SLOWLY GETTING THERE GUYS

- Also I love a jayce who just DOES NOT QUIT. all he needs is a sliver HAHA

- i also feel terrible for v like my poor baby im putting him through hell with his disorganised attachment style HAHA (the constant loop of "I have needs -- my needs are dangerous -- I push away and dissociate from them to protect myself -- but unavoidably, I have human needs for connection -- especially with jayce -- but I don't trust them or myself -- or him -- it's scary -- I detatch/get angry -- but...i...have...needs") and round it goes MY POOR PRECIOUS THING I WANT TO COVER HIM IN BUBBLE WRAP

- can you tell I have no idea what im doing :')

As always, any feedback and/or overall opinion is not only welcome, but deeply appreciated <3 Your comments fuel me like crazy (as alwaaaaays mere appreciation) no pressures ever), so thanks for that monarchs <3

tooodalooooo!

Chapter 22: Truth is as subjective as everything else derived from human perception.

Summary:

Jayvik shennanigans in the apartment.

Notes:

TW IN ENDNOTES

Henlooooooo beautiful monarchs! Hope your week was fantastic 8)

It was strange. 

 

Jayce had always been a deep sleeper– so deep, in fact, that during his teenage years, his mother had had to implement safety measures to account for it.

 

She’d told him once that she’d tried, more than a few times, to test his sense of alertness. Of course, with time, it turned into a fun quest to trigger some kind of survival instinct in him. She worried that Jayce could endanger himself by sleeping through pretty much anything. 

 

According to her, she’d started small– clattering cutlery, slamming doors, the occasional spontaneous applause.

 

When that failed, his mother escalated to vacuuming outside his bedroom and coming to his door whenever she had conversations over the phone.

 

Over the years, she kept experimenting with increasingly absurd methods, determined to instill at least a shred of self-preservation in him while she still had the chance. Better to shock him awake in a safe home than leave him defenseless in a situation where his life might actually be in jeopardy.

 

Of course, this was all exceptionally comical to Jayce, considering he'd never been the wiser to any of it. 

 

In one final attempt, she had stormed into his room, banging pots together like the deranged one-woman marching band she so fully embraced. Eventually, that had gotten Jayce to groggily crack one eye open, utter something unintelligible in her direction, before promptly passing out again. 

 

He had long since made peace with this aspect of himself. It was why he wore a vibrating band on his wrist to wake him up, if necessary.That seemed to do the trick.

 

Yet, somehow , all it took was a mumble from Viktor for Jayce's consciousness to spring to attention.

 

A deep, rumbly sound that pulled on an unconscious thread.

 

It reminded Jayce of their last months spent together. Somewhere along the way, Jayce’s brain had been rewired, fine-tuned to Viktor’s presence and limited forms of communication. Even now, without the urgency or the panic, that instinct remained, buried, waiting for the right trigger. 

 

Jayce was sleeping next to Viktor. He was right there.

 

He let his head roll to the side, only to be met with a mountain of pillows obstructing any horizon lying beyond. 

 

Jayce grumbled inwardly. 

 

The rhythmic rise and fall of Viktor’s breaths soothed him and Jayce was mildly surprised to find that such a perception was lulling his body deeper into sleep, like a recorded lullaby engraved into his system.

 

It was a sound he still couldn't quite believe. And within reach, no less.

 

Just as sleep threatened to reclaim him, Viktor spoke again.

 

“Don't stop.”

 

Jayce's eyes snapped open, his ceiling rushing into view. 

 

Viktor’s voice was mellow, rich, carrying that familiar, effortless warmth. Jayce was always reminded of melting butter when Viktor spoke– slow, smooth, and entirely enveloping.

 

Don’t stop, what?

 

Itching with forbidden curiosity, Jayce propped himself onto his elbow, mindful not to shift the mattress and wake his former lab partner.

 

Carefully, his gaze sneaked over the insulting wall of plush, coming face to face with Viktor lying on his side, curled into himself, hands neatly tucked under his chin. The moonlight stretched from the window behind Jayce, piercing from above his shoulder and bathing Viktor’s expression, every inch turned angelic divine.

 

He looked so peaceful. 

 

Stirring softly in his sleep, a casual hum escaped Viktor’s lips– teetering on the edge of a breathy whine.

 

Jayce went rigid, every muscle coiled tight as if that sound had issued a silent command. His body snapped upright, eyes locked onto Viktor’s face, scanning, searching, trying to decipher what might be unfolding in his distant mind.

 

God. It was happening again.

 

Just like the morning before, Viktor had abducted Jayce from his sleep with those soft, gravelly murmurs.

 

Jayce had been aware that Viktor was merely babbling in his sleep.

 

Still, his imagination sprang to life with fragmented, flickering snapshots vivid enough to match the vocalisations that had stirred him awake. They coaxed forth that dormant, insatiable itch he had never quite managed to exorcise. One that had existed long before he’d been made aware of it.

 

Yet, ever since that damned party, Jayce had awoken an unknowing hunger that had remained leashed and covert. A need that ever only seemed to temporarily satiate when Jayce was deliberate about what he envisioned in his mind. Or who.

 

But this– this was different. Because for the first time, Viktor wasn’t a distant, agonising taunt in the far corners of his mind, nor a hazy recollection confined to distant memory. He was here, in the same room, in real time. 

 

Considering their–almost–exclusively platonic dynamic, it was causing Jayce to have to restructure his perception– truth and fantasy colliding into a new reality he had no idea how to approach, let alone organize. 

 

It made that ever-present itch–the one that had simmered beneath Jayce’s skin for years, fucking years –all the more unbearable. Especially considering the precarious, tangled mess they found themselves in currently.

 

What once had been held down under the surface, hidden beneath layers of restraint for stolen moments of secret indulgence and shameful surrender, had now broken through and clawed its way into the open.

 

It was robbing Jayce of his right mind. 

 

He had tried to go back to sleep yesterday morning–really, he had–but then Viktor had murmured his name in that tone of his, and… Well, every nerve in Jayce’s body had been electrified and wide awake. 

 

Sleep was a lost battle against a pulsating cock. It was embarrassing, almost as if he’d returned to some semblance of his adolescence.

 

A small part of Jayce missed the faraway version of himself that had never been tormented by any of this. He could barely remember it.

 

By the time he’d stepped into the shower, Jayce had made sure to silently release himself, if only to take the edge off those relentless, precious sounds ruthlessly reverberating through his skull. The images they conjured. 

 

Jayce couldn’t help it. Not anymore– he had yielded to his body’s vicious pleas. At this moment in time, pushing through was the only priority. Jayce’s future self could deal with the wreckage.

 

And fuck, he hadn’t realized how much had pent up.

 

The ghost of his breath, so close to Jayce’s lips during the explosion. The brush of his fingers over his beard. The way Viktor’s lips curled in contentment. That deep, rich chuckle that made Jayce’s heart stutter with a flood of memories from another lifetime– one where he’d felt whole.  

 

That fucking piercing, grazing against fabric and pressing into Jayce’s abdomen. His expression when he’d seen Jayce in pain, the tenderness that followed. How he’d cared during the storm, or while visiting his mother. 

 

That had been the first visit that hadn’t felt soul-crushing.

 

Everything was unraveling, a tightly wound string fraying at the edges, desperate to snap.

 

Jayce didn't want to feel this way. Especially considering it was very obviously unreciprocated. Hell, Jayce hadn’t even fully confirmed if Viktor tolerated his presence.

 

If he were to take Viktor at face value, the answer was clear: Viktor wanted nothing to do with him.

 

But then again, he was indulging Jayce’s shenanigans. Begrudgingly, sure, but engaging all the same.

 

And if ignoring his urges meant getting just one more day with Viktor? One last chance to have him near, without the weight of unspoken expectations hanging over them, as it once had been?

 

Then Jayce would shove that itch down. Again and again and again and again, he would shove it down for eternity. He would let that gnawing craving consume him, suffocate him, and spit him out.

 

Viktor had always transcended any rules for connection. 

 

Now, especially after their lab had been wrecked and the quiet care that had transpired between them, Jayce was certain no substitute would ever do. He'd endure this burden, and many others, if it meant Viktor could come to embrace his genuine self around him, just one more time. That’s it, that’s all Jayce really wanted. No pretenses, no unnecessary complications. Just them . One whole day of just them. 

 

Which wasn’t currently possible, considering the constant back and forths.

 

It was selfish, he knew that. Yet, Jayce could feel it, that fragile hope he'd let bloom so recently. It grew with each passing minute, all whilst he was but a passenger to its whims. 

 

Jayce drank in the sight of Viktor. His eyes traced the curvature of his high cheekbones, the slope of his nose, his moles, his moles, his moles , the way the top of his hand tilted his chin toward him, the way the strands of his hair lay softly on the pillow. 

 

The night was dead quiet, almost as if the world outside had paused to join Jayce in observing him. 

 

Jayce’s gaze softened. His fingers twitched to remove those bothersome strands of hair, as they’d once had. 

 

A slow pressure was settling deep within. Just watching Viktor breathe felt like too much, and yet, it would never be enough.

 

“Jayce,” Viktor called loudly. 

 

In a childish panic, Jayce dropped himself onto his pillow– only to misjudge the motion entirely. His forehead slammed against the headboard with a reverberating thud , only to bounce him right back.

 

At the raucous, Viktor sprang upright as if assaulted by a targeted taser. His breath hitched at the sight of Jayce’s backlit silhouette looming over him. In an attempt to escape what Jayce would imagine to be a terrifying, monstrous, opaque stranger, Viktor jerked back.

 

Driven by instinct, Jayce lunged forward, grasping Viktor’s arm before he met the unfortunate embrace of a hard, cold, punishing floor.

 

Viktor dangled precariously, his body hovering off the bed, eyes utterly vacant as he stared up at Jayce.

 

Jayce waited for Viktor to make sense of his surroundings, but it became quite obvious that there wasn’t a single coherent thought behind that glassy expression.

 

“Not to rush you or anything–,” Jayce started cautiously, a faint smile on his lips. “–but would you like to come back up?” 

 

Half-lidded eyes pinned to his, glazed over and unfocused. Viktor’s fingers twitched faintly against Jayce’s forearm, his grip barely there. 

 

Jayce wondered if he was even awake. 

 

“Viktor.”

 

His fingers flexed, a flicker of awareness returning.

 

“...Hm?” 

 

“Up,” Jayce commanded, his voice light with amusement.

 

Viktor blinked. He glanced around himself.

 

“My,” he rasped, his eyes widening. His digits circled Jayce’s arm, and the chill of his skin sent an immediate flash of heat to Jayce’s nape. “Yes.” 

 

Jayce tugged him up simultaneously, gracefully bringing him back to his side of the mattress. Viktor let go the moment he was settled, so Jayce followed suit. 

 

Viktor rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “What happened?” 

 

“Nothing.”

 

His former lab partner lifted his disoriented gaze, eyebrows pulling together into a frown. “Was there a loud noise?” 

 

Jayce waved a hand dismissively, tilting his head as if it was unimportant. “Just me.”

 

Viktor, despite his somnolence, still narrowed his eyes in mild suspicion. 

 

“I, uh– I hit my head. But all is perfect,” Jayce rushed to add.

 

“You hit your head?” 

 

Jayce hesitated, dragging the word out, “Yes.”

 

Viktor cocked his head, a familiar expression of quiet expectation.

 

Jayce cleared his throat, suddenly feeling skittish under the weight of that look. “I went to the bathroom and didn’t turn on the light,” he babbled. “It was a simple miscalculation.” 

 

“A simple miscalculation,” Viktor repeated with underlying skepticism.

 

Jayce wondered if Viktor had stuck himself in a loop of simply echoing whatever words came out of his mouth. Sleep was still very clearly draped over Viktor, and Jayce wanted to laugh at the mere sight of his sluggish attempts to regain lucidity. 

 

“Does this… happen often?” Viktor asked, his deep voice purposefully measured. It made Jayce want to shrink into himself and disappear.

 

Who the hell underestimated the distance between a pillow and the headboard and just threw themselves in with the blinding confidence of a thousand men?

 

“Because that would explain a lot, actually,” Viktor added, his curiosity now piqued.

 

Jayce's lips quirked before stretching into an uncontrollable, yet sheepish, smile. Viktor’s tired eyes flickered downward before swiftly returning. 

 

As they stared into each other in quiet disbelief, Jayce’s chuckle started soft, but quickly grew into laughter.

 

Surprisingly, Viktor cracked a smile.

 

“You complete halfwit,” he declared through an amused tone. Jayce hid behind his awaiting palm, escaping those amber eyes, gleaming with dumbfounded incredulity. “No wonder your calculations needed fixing. I bet you were tasting color when you wrote those.” 

 

Jayce’s embarrassed laughter came out of him in waves, unrestrained. “I'm so sorry!” He urged between breaths, personal disbelief twisting his expression. “This is mortifying, I didn't mean to wake you!” 

 

Viktor shook his head, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I'm sure you didn't mean to give yourself a concussion either, and yet…”

 

Jayce’s ears burned as he continued to smile broadly, a hand covering his face and pressing on his temples as he soothed himself. 

 

Viktor shifted his mischievous tone for one of mild concern. “Are you… alright, though?”

 

“Dandy,” Jayce replied swiftly, despite the throbbing ache in his head. “Go back to sleep.” 

 

Viktor scanned him with slitted eyes for another moment before he snuggled back into the blankets, heavy rest obviously beckoning despite the brutal interruption. He shut his eyes.

 

“Please, for the sake of my cardiovascular health, consider the gravitational pull of your ginormous noggin' next time,” he muttered.

 

Jayce pressed his lips together to contain his laughter. “For your sake, exclusively,” he supplied with feigned conviction. “Not mine. Or my head’s.” 

 

Viktor shrugged, a yawn breaking free. “We both know that's beyond repair.”

///

When Viktor rose that morning, he found the bed completely to himself. 

 

Still, there was a warm cup of coffee waiting on his nightstand. 

 

Alone in the quiet of the room, Viktor allowed his curiosity to take hold. He reached for the box Jayce had handed him the night before, the weight of it still lingering in his hands despite that familiar voice inside him begging him to burn its contents before it was too late.

 

Sitting on the bed, he unfolded the first letter with deliberate slowness. 

 

For some inexplicable reason, Viktor leaned forward and sniffed the paper. 

 

There were no scents he could recognise beyond paper and dust, and something about that was crushingly disappointing.

My darling V,

 

I know you don't want to be found. But I need to pour myself out to you somewhere, even if it's just for me. 

 

It's been a full week since you’ve been gone and I don't think it's quite sunk in yet. I think my mind is viciously trained on the thought that you are out on vacation, or something of the sort.

 

I keep expecting to see you waltz through the door, side-by-side with my son, the sounds of your bickering and shared laughter filling the house as they so often did.

 

Now, the air is silent and heavy– as if the house were in mourning, also. 

 

All I can selfishly think about is how much I wish you were here. 

 

Jayce hasn't left his room in over six days. 

Viktor paused, his fingers tightening around the edges of the letter. He folded it back up, shoved it into the box and pushed it away from his mind. Viktor could not allow himself to go there, to know. 

 

He did not even acknowledge the fact that someone had gone through the trouble of organizing all of the correspondence by date. 

 

Not in the slightest.

 

Fucking Jayce.

 

But I will be here, where I've always been. 

 

The words last night had come out randomly, out of the blue, like a lightning crash in the middle of a sunny day. 

 

Some things, it seemed, never changed. Jayce bringing up his own choices was a familiar sight, but it no longer brought Viktor the same sense of comfort.

 

And yet, once again, that suspicion collided with the sincerity Viktor had perceived in Jayce’s tone.

 

Viktor feared that new memories were overlapping with his old ones, slowly burying previous certainties under new data. He wouldn’t admit it, but a slight panic was slowly creeping in as the reins he’d so fiercely gripped slowly slipped through his fingers with each passing interaction.

 

He didn't want his opinion of Jayce to change. 

 

Waiting for you, he'd said.

 

Waiting for what, exactly? Waiting for Viktor to… do something? 

 

Urgh.

 

It felt ironic to Viktor, how Jayce had once told him that he was implacable. 

 

Viktor had believed it, then. He had been. 

 

Now, it embarrassed him how far that certainty had slipped away. To the world, perhaps, Viktor could still project that unyielding facade. But with Jayce? He felt like he was made of clay– solid enough to hope for permanence, yet still malleable to the pressure of every press and every word.

 

It was humiliating how, after seven years of steadfast resolve, the foundation he’d thought unbreakable was beginning to crack. All it took was engaging in the most minimal interaction. 

  

That buried body in his backyard stirred, a whisper of an old ghost that wouldn’t stay silent. At the unforeseen notion, Viktor had turned into a deer in headlights. It was detestable– what kind of person would freeze in resignation to a looming catastrophe, especially after barely surviving the first one?

 

For all of his supposed intelligence, Viktor felt like a complete fool. It was as if history was repeating itself, screaming in his face as he tried to fight it whilst bound in shackles. 

 

Why had Jayce said the things he'd said? Why share such a vulnerable thing, with no apparent ulterior motive? 

 

For a fleeting moment, the Jayce from before had been staring back at him, a Jayce that had been viciously pulled apart and disintegrated in Viktor's mind. The gesture, the sudden appearance of his former friend, had caught Viktor so off-guard that he'd been struck speechless. 

 

Except... Now, older. Sharper. Someone so painfully familiar and yet, unknown.

 

Just the same, the shift in the pattern made Viktor feel like a pawn on a chessboard, unaware of the moves being made around him. That speech had been a poor move– one that briefly exposed the game.

 

But not the strategy. 

 

Why had he blindsided Viktor like that? Why was Jayce even inviting that part of himself into any conversation in the first place? It hadn't been prompted, or wanted, or welcome. What was Jayce trying to accomplish, really? 

 

Didn't he hate Viktor, too?

 

Why did it feel so earnest, even though Viktor knew better? 

 

Why couldn't Viktor move past it?

 

These were questions Viktor would surely leave behind the moment he was out of here.

 

If he survived that stupid game, first.

///

Viktor made his way to the living room, only to find it just as empty as the bedroom. Jayce had set his open books to the side, tidying up the place. 

 

There was a strange pull in the air, a heaviness that Viktor couldn’t quite place.

 

He paused, scanning the room, when a faint hiss reached his ears from a distance.

 

Due to his swift–and still progressing–recovery, Viktor managed to cross the living room in his own time, finding the door to the cluttered guest room ajar. A soft white light spilled onto the wooden floor from the right.

 

Viktor heard grumbling. 

 

“Jayce?” 

 

“In here!” He called back.

 

Viktor peeked inside the room, completely obstructed by litter that had been abandoned and accumulated throughout the years. The bed was barely discernible beneath the chaos.

 

To the right, he came to find yet another bathroom– much smaller than the others. 

 

Jayce was standing in front of the mirror above the sink, struggling with one arm bent awkwardly behind his back, while the other stretched from below, both attempts failing to find the elusive bandage he couldn’t quite reach.

 

His torso expanded with each strained movement, unintentionally taking on the form of a Greek god. 

 

Had Viktor mentioned that Jayce was shirtless? Of course, Jayce was shirtless.

 

Viktor averted his gaze toward the ceiling at once. “Christ,” he let out. 

 

Jayce glanced in his direction. “What's wrong?” 

 

Viktor pursed his lips, still avoiding eye contact. “Your tits are out.” 

 

Jayce snorted in surprise. “My tits?” 

 

One could certainly call them that. Viktor refused to elaborate. 

 

“I'll be in the living room,” he offered instead, stepping back toward the open door.

 

“Wait!” 

 

Viktor froze under the threshold.

 

“You can say no,” Jayce began, carefully. 

 

Viktor exhaled in resignation. “Why do I already regret this?” 

 

There was a slight pause before Jayce’s voice came back with a silent plea. “It's driving me mad.” 

 

Viktor shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to compose himself.  “Is this for the bet?” He asked bitterly. “Cause’ I'd consider this proof fabrication. You can't manipulate your way into winning.” 

 

There was a soft chuckle. “No, no bet. Just a man in desperate need of assistance– if you can withstand looking at my tits, that is.” 

 

Viktor sighed. This is why he hated feeling indebted. 

 

He finally turned to face Jayce, who was amidst the process of changing his bandages and cleaning his cuts. Some gauzes were still wrapped around his torso and shoulders, stained with slight reddish streaks.

 

As Viktor entered the bathroom, he leaned over to wash his hands. Jayce instinctively took a step back to make room.

 

Once he finished, Viktor rested his lower back against the cool marble counter in front of the sink. Immediately, he came to the realization that the space was far too crammed for the both of them. 

 

He'd have to ask Jayce to boost him up so he could sit. 

 

And Jayce, naturally, would have to settle between his open knees.

 

Viktor wasn't about to have a semi-naked Jayce lift him, let alone hover all over his fucking business. 

 

He swiftly pushed himself away from the counter and made his way to the living room, tossing over his shoulder, “Come. Bring the supplies.” 

 

A moment later, Viktor lowered himself into the sturdy couch, setting his crutch aside. He glanced up to see Jayce entering with a bundle of materials huddled in his arms.

 

Jayce dropped everything next to Viktor before sitting beside him, set on organizing the items between them with quiet efficiency.

 

Viktor reached for the cotton and disinfectant, trying to focus as Jayce busied himself.

 

With a sigh, Viktor’s gaze wandered down to his chest, attempting to assess the cuts.

 

Rather immediately, and quietly, his attention turned traitor. 

 

Jayce’s chest was broad yet still lean, the muscles swelling beneath a thin layer of fatty tissue. Viktor quietly inspected the impressive expanse, strong, covered in dark curls that decorated his skin.

 

It was futile to deny that, since the last time Viktor had seen him shirtless, Jayce had bulked up. No longer just athletic, he had expanded in every direction, filling his natural stature with pure mass. 

 

And funnily enough, Viktor couldn't quite make sense of the fact that Jayce looked, concurrently, soft. 

 

Viktor's attention drifted lower, and he became aware of how small and perky Jayce’s nipples were– like beads practically beckoning to be noticed. He'd been too far away to notice on previous occasions.

 

Just as he'd never been aware of the small scars decorating his body like specks of abstract paint on a blank canvas. The majority of them looked like burn marks, which Viktor swiftly attributed to his time at the smithy. 

 

Jayce’s muscles, impressively worked, rose and fell with each of his calm breaths, shaping and shifting the smooth lines and ripples habitating his abdomen. Those hips remained slender and defined, sinfully sitting just above the waistband of his gray sweatpants. 

 

The curls in his chest traced a narrowing path down the center of his torso, tip-toeing over his belly button and turning into a happy trail that vanished into the beyond .

 

Viktor's gaze snapped up, a wave of irritation rushing through him at the unexpected slip. It wasn’t just his gaze betraying him– his body too, responding with a silent, yet warm curiosity at the sight. 

 

Jayce obliviously continued arranging the materials, but Viktor caught on to the faint amusement he swore was hiding behind those deceptively innocent hazel eyes.

 

“Turn those weapons of mass destruction away from me,” Viktor bit out, watching him with slitted eyes.

 

Jayce chuckled as he rotated in his seat, showing Viktor his back. 

 

And that wasn't any better, either. Sweet Lord. 

 

“So testy in the mornings,” Jayce joked under his breath. Viktor carefully removed the bandage Jayce had been so desperately trying to reach. 

 

Viktor made a conscious effort to put any memories of Jayce's build out of his head. It was utterly unnecessary information.

 

Grabbing a piece of cotton, Viktor saturated it with disinfectant before gently tapping it to the cut in the middle of Jayce’s back. His fingers moved with practiced precision, careful but methodical.

 

“It's healing nicely,” Viktor murmured as he studied the cut from up close.  

 

“Good.” 

 

“How often are you meant to do this?”

 

“Every forty-eight hours. Supposedly.”

 

Without missing a beat, Viktor applied the new bandage, his hands steady while coming into contact with Jayce’s skin. The gauze was wrapped around with efficiency, tied off with a small knot that kept the dressing secure.

 

It didn’t entirely sit right with Viktor that Jayce had waited this long to take care of his injuries. It had undoubtedly been way over forty-eight hours. 

 

“I could totally manipulate my way into winning, by the way,” Jayce teased, interrupting his train of thought. He offered a casual shrug. "If I wanted to.” 

 

The image of Jayce's conceited smile came easily to Viktor by tone alone. 

 

Viktor rolled his eyes. “Your misplaced confidence is truly undefeated.” He spotted another uncovered slice decorating Jayce’s shoulder. Without giving it much thought, Viktor grabbed another swab and applied the same careful process to the new wound. “I can't say I'm surprised, considering what you're working overtime to salvage is your own ego.” 

 

Silence settled between them. Jayce’s back rose to meet Viktor’s fingertips as he inhaled deeply. Viktor fought to ignore any heat that might radiate from his skin. He concentrated solely on the task at hand. 

 

“Or maybe I'm just trying to prove you wrong.” 

 

“Eh,” Viktor replied in a prolonged high pitch, dripping with mocking uncertainty. “Potato, potahto.” He procured a new bandage to apply to the newly disinfected wound. “You clearly have nothing better to do, anyway.” 

 

They sat in blissful silence for a minute, until Jayce interrupted it with the much dreaded, “Can I ask you a question?” 

 

Viktor sighed, barely containing his annoyance. “Can’t we just sit in silence, for once?” 

 

“We could.” 

 

That buzzing quiet stretched on, thick and uncomfortable. Viktor circled the new bandage around Jayce’s torso, setting it in place over the gash– though his motions had grown slightly more rigid. He felt the pull of an invisible, taunting thread.

 

Urgh. This was a guilt trip he didn’t need, and yet, a disloyal ember of curiosity still burned under his skin.

 

“Spit it out, Jayce.” 

 

There was a smile in his voice. “When you told my mum yesterday that I’d changed… What did you mean, exactly? What’s different?” 

 

Viktor snorted, the sound escaping before he could stop it. “What's not?”

 

There was a hand gesture, urging him to proceed. “Give me an example.” 

 

Viktor paused for a moment, his gaze flicking over Jayce’s back as he absentmindedly began cleaning the next wound he spotted. “Well, you’re angrier for one.” 

 

Jayce let out a huff, disappointed. “That doesn't count. So are you.”

 

A weight flumped on Viktor’s chest, one that pulled him down into a part of himself that whispered with sadness. 

 

“No,” he corrected with a murmur. “I was always angry.” Despite the admission in his tone, his voice came out softly distracted. Viktor busied himself with tenderly untying a bandage in Jayce’s lower back, letting it fall where it may. He grabbed another swab and dabbled. “Just never towards you.”

 

And it was true– it seemed Viktor’s closest of kin had always been his anger. It drove him, it nursed him, it made him want better; for himself, for others. Anger pushed him forward, rescued him out of dire situations, helped him connect with the world. Anger had been both his fuel and his protector. 

 

It just wasn’t explosive. It was more like a slow-moving river of lava– relentlessly carving its path through his life.

 

But he’d never had any need for it when he’d been around Jayce Talis, had he? 

 

Until he did. 

 

Viktor’s hands moved mechanically as he began to tie the bandage around Jayce’s waist, the motion slow and deliberate. His fingers were heavier than before, as if the pull of the moment was causing them to slightly tremble. His gaze locked firmly on his digits, commanding them to seize their needless tremors as his jaw muscles clenched with a building frustration.

 

Jayce, unfazed, waited a beat before prompting again. “What else?” 

 

Viktor exhaled sharply, shoulders stiffening at the now loaded question. His hands stilled for just a fraction of a second before he announced, “I don’t want to play this game.” 

 

“Okay.”

 

The tension in the air kept rising, and now Viktor was having thoughts of their friendship, of how profoundly he’d cared for this arrogant man. How much he’d wanted to protect him, even from himself. Viktor’s anger had always willingly stayed away whenever Jayce was present. 

 

Only for solely anger to persevere.

 

Viktor pulled back sharply. “Congratulations, Jayce,” he snapped. “You’ve managed to piss me off.”

 

“What?!“ Jayce whirled toward him, genuine bewilderment flashing across his face.  “What did I do?!” 

 

“Everything,” Viktor shot back with a slicing tone. “You had to open that goddamn mouth of yours with your incessant questions. You had to force me to remember that you’re someone I used to know. You had to make me considerate meals every day, you had to be kind, you just had to–” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head like he could physically dislodge the tangle of feelings inside him. “You’re overwhelming me.”

 

Jayce stiffened. His brows knitted together in unfiltered confusion, and his brain caught on to the words like a glitching machine. “I’m overwhelming you because I’ve been… kind?”

 

“Yes.” 

 

“But I’m just being myself.”

 

“Exactly.”

 

And even though there was a slight flinch in Jayce’s eyes, deep down, Viktor had meant that vicious slight as a twisted compliment. 

 

Jayce stood and took a few steps away, almost as if he needed to physically reset himself. He tipped his head down for a moment, fingertips massaging the bridge of his nose, before his gaze lashed back up, sharp with something unrecognizable. “You know, you provoked me."  

 

Viktor scoffed. “Is that what you tell yourself?” 

 

“It’s the truth.”

 

“Oh?” Viktor let out a short, bitter laugh. “I wasn't aware that was a universal experience.” 

 

“Of course it is, that's the point of it being the truth– it’s unequivocal.” 

 

“Truth is as subjective as everything else derived from human perception,” Viktor hissed, eyes piercing. “To overextend it is already flawed by nature.” He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes, his posture readying for a challenge. “But go on, then. Speak this truth of yours.”

 

Jayce was staring at him with murder in his eyes. “When you first got here, I minded my own business,” he said, voice edged and tightly wound. Jayce poignantly started counting with his fingers. “I didn’t acknowledge you. I didn’t interact with you. I left you alone.” Jayce’s accusatory digit was back with a vengeance. “You were the one who interacted with me. You started this when you stole my desk.” 

 

“Here we fucking go again.” Viktor rolled his eyes, grabbing the nearest blanket and chucking it straight at Jayce’s chest.

 

Jayce caught it with a startled grunt. His face was a picture of his incertitude tangled with irritation as he clutched the fabric.

 

“Can you at least cover up your tattas if you want to have a serious conversation?” 

 

Jayce gaped and then, scoffed. Defiantly, he tossed the blanket back onto the couch. “You don’t get to tell me what to do with my tattas." 

 

Viktor’s teeth pressed against each other, causing a slight ache in his mandible. Dammit. 

 

“God, I swear you tempt me to violence,” Viktor declared with a furious rumble.

 

Jayce took a step forward. “You should have thought of that before you picked a fight with me, don’t you think?” A mirthless laugh tore out of him, incredulity lacing his tone. “I gave you every chance to be left alone. Why won’t you admit that you sought me out?” His eyes burned– wide, searching, desperate. “I didn’t ask for this!” Jayce concluded, hastily gesturing between them.

 

Viktor found it rather fucking rich.

 

“Neither did I,” Viktor bit out with a heavy reminder, words spoken through gritted teeth. 

 

Jayce shook his head before those green eyes ruthlessly pierced in Viktor’s direction. “You're the worst kind of hypocrite.” 

 

Viktor inhaled sharply, the abrupt words striking something deep and raw. 

 

Jayce’s voice was steel-wrapped venom. “You spent our entire friendship assuring me that you weren’t a liar, and yet that’s a running theme between us now, isn’t it?”

 

“Well, we’re not fucking friends now, are we?” Viktor’s lip curled as he glared at Jayce through his eyelashes. “You made sure of it."

 

Jayce winced, still Viktor couldn't stop himself from adding, "And don't force me to remind you that you lied to me, first."

 

Jayce let out a frustrated sound, ripping out from his throat, fingers pressing into his eye sockets. “Why are you twisting the topic? Why can’t you just own up to your shit, for once?!” 

 

Twisting the–

 

“Fine!” Viktor’s voice cracked like a whip, all sharp edges and merciless vitriol. “You want the truth?” 

 

Jayce didn’t move. Didn’t blink.

 

Viktor tilted his head upwards to meet his stare, slow and deliberate, feeling his eyes coat with something cruel. “I stole that desk from you because you looked fucking dead inside. Isn’t that nice to hear?” 

 

A breath caught in Jayce’s throat.

 

Viktor unfurled a razor-edged smile. “You were a walking corpse, a putrid carcass of a man, so completely hollowed out you reeked of decay.” Viktor leaned in, twisting the knife. “So fucking sue me for preferring your tantrums to your goddamn, overbaring rot.”

 

A shallow exhale left Jayce’s lips, yet Viktor did not relent. Fury hung thick in the air, curling between them like something alive.

 

Viktor’s pulse slammed against his throat. His skin burned. 

 

But to his surprise, Jayce’s expression shifted. Not to further tension or wrath.

 

A new twinkle sparked in his eye– as if something inside him had clicked into place.

 

Jayce lifted a hand and slowly stabbed that infuriating, merciless digit in Viktor’s direction. "There."

 

Viktor blinked, utterly discombobulated.

 

“Right there.” Jayce smiled. "There's your fucking proof, you dick." 

 

Viktor’s stomach dropped .

 

_ _ _ 

Jayce had him. 

 

Jayce fucking had him.

 

It was further evidence that his friend was in there, and Viktor would have to untangle himself from his own words to prove Jayce wrong– and they both knew it. 

 

But what struck Jayce wasn’t the victory. It was the realization.

 

Had he really been that far gone? 

 

At the time, he hadn’t noticed. Not really. But now, looking back, he recognised it quickly. Those first few weeks had been absolute hell– the kind that tainted everything, numbing him down to nothing.

 

There were nights back then where he’d drunk himself to sleep, and in a fleeting moment of clarity, he realised he hadn't done so again since then.

 

He had no idea what Viktor might have seen in him because Jayce barely had any recollection of those weeks, himself. It was almost as if they belonged to someone else entirely. Those days blurred together, slipping past in a dissociative haze that was, at times, all too familiar to Jayce. 

 

During those weeks, Jayce had behaved as if he’d been entirely on his own, often startling himself with Viktor's continuous presence. 

 

But at that time, he had been certain Viktor couldn’t have cared if he dropped dead, anyway. He'd assumed he was completely invisible and effortfully made peace with it. Or tried to.

 

It had allowed him to let go of any pretense and just use the lab as if nobody was watching. The numbness had been suffocating enough as it was, without having to care about what image he ought to be giving in the one place he could find some resemblance of purpose and peace. The one place he'd never felt like he had to be any one thing in particular– the one place he'd always been welcome to simply be . Where Jayce had grown accustomed to the liberation of forgetting he could be perceived, in the first place.  

 

And yet– Viktor had been watching.

 

Not just watching.

 

Pushing. Prodding. Pissing him off– on purpose.

 

Because fuck , Viktor had actually been paying attention to Jayce, even if that hadn't been in his original plans. And instead of leaving him to it, Viktor had chosen to be insufferable, instead. He'd goaded Jayce into anger, dragged him out of that void just to invite him to feel something again through spite.

 

Even if he was partly unaware of it.

 

And Jayce hadn’t even realized.

 

Not until now.

 

Always from the shadows, as Viktor often did. 

 

Had that been the reason behind the relentlessness in his lab-related war crimes?

 

Now, come to think of it… Jayce hadn’t been consumed with that perpetual numbness for some months now.

 

Jayce inhaled sharply. Shit.

 

That genius motherfucker. Even at his perceived absolute worst, he was still a catalyst to positive ripples in Jayce’s existence.

 

And he was trying to convince Jayce to let him go ? 

 

Jayce felt a tug on their connection, now stronger than merely ten minutes ago. The confession, meant to wound, had done the opposite– it filled him with warmth. 

 

Because Viktor had to care to do something like that, right? If he'd been indifferent, he wouldn’t have lifted a single, spiteful, intolerable finger.

 

Jayce exhaled, steadying himself under Viktor’s piercingly expectant, fiery gaze. 

 

"You would have let me rot," Jayce voiced with deep calm into the space between them, clarifying his conclusion by presenting fact. He tried his best to conceal any smugness, but he couldn't help the slight, confident tilt of his lips as he took Viktor in. 

 

He was completely immobile, but heat radiated from the look in his eyes, as well as the stiff posture of his shoulders. Jayce could imagine steam pouring out of him. 

 

Viktor was recalibrating in present time, and with the topic of hypocrisy recently thrown into the mix, he'd backed himself into a corner. 

 

Behind that intense regard, Jayce knew he was being analyzed, dissected, picked apart and put back together like an equation Viktor couldn’t solve.

 

And Jayce found himself in the same predicament. 

 

Maybe his methods hadn't been the most recommended, considering Jayce couldn't think of anything more insulting to Viktor than to call him out for having a flimsy character. But it had worked, hadn’t it?

 

Because Jayce, too, had paid attention, back when he’d first met him– of who Viktor actually was, as well as wanted to be. And who he didn't. 

 

Furthermore, Jayce had observed with quiet fascination how Viktor played conversations with those around him like a chess match, always two moves ahead.

 

And for once– Jayce had played the same game. One in the hopes of coaxing Viktor to express how he really felt, to be honest, in the hopes that Jayce could have the opportunity to better understand.

 

They kept their eyes locked onto one another, Jayce feeling his body temperature rising, preparing for an unavoidable disarray. 

 

From one moment to the next, the heat dissipated– like a flame run out of oxygen.

 

Viktor’s eyes dipped to the floor. There was a downward curve to his mouth, observably dejected. He was staring at Jayce’s feet with a slackened expression, as if keeping up the anger was too draining to continue. Viktor’s shoulders slumped slightly as he pressed a fold at the hem of his joggers. 

 

Jayce studied him in silence, a slight concern born out of Viktor’s burnt demeanor. 

 

“It's like you're divided in two,” Viktor confessed with impossible quiet. “And I–” His fingers curled, flexed. “I sometimes think I see glimpses of my friend– from before.” 

 

Jayce's heart cracked. He opened his mouth to speak when Viktor interrupted him with his conclusion.

 

“But that person died to me.”

 

The words rippled through Jayce like an earthquake, the quiet sentiment rumbling through him with an unmistakable hurt that no amount of angered screaming could ever live up to. It was sharp, unforgiving, and worst of all– honest. As he’d wanted.

 

Jayce swallowed. Steeled himself. 

 

“That person is standing right in front of you,” he responded, the quiet thrum of his own voice filling the air between them. Jayce recognised that a silenced part of him was pleading somewhere inside him– somewhere he couldn’t fully reach.

 

Viktor looked up with tired ambered eyes, meeting his gaze with an exhaustion that seemed to seep from somewhere too deep for Jayce to follow. 

 

“Is he?” 

 

Their eyes lingered, the silence between them stretching, curling, winding tight.

 

Jayce took a step forward. He parted his lips to speak– 

 

Three sharp knocks interrupted him, coming from the front door.

 

The sound slammed into him like a cold slap, breaking the fragile thread of the moment.

 

Jayce inhaled sharply, surprise flashing across his face as he looked back at Viktor. But Viktor’s expression remained unmoving, his vacant stare persistent on Jayce’s face. 

 

Jayce shook his head, his hands balling into fists before he forced them open again. He procured a shirt before he strode toward the door, squaring his shoulders and schooling his expression. 

 

Once he opened it, he found Markus, the enforcer, standing there alone. 

 

A rapid sense of disgust flashed in his stomach, one he didn’t let show in his face.

 

“Good afternoon, enforcer,” he said smoothly. “How can I help you?” 

 

Markus inclined his head. “Good afternoon, Dr. Talis. May I come in? I have some developments.” 

 

Jayce gave him a quick glance over before stepping aside, inviting him in. Viktor was already staring in their direction, brows etched together in quiet curiosity. 

 

Markus wasted no time. “It seems the explosion was, in fact, a gas leak. The evidence gathered was irrelevant and inconsequential to the case.” 

 

For some reason, the words rang too clean to Jayce. Too neat.

 

Jayce kept his expression blank, but his pulse spiked. From the corner of his eye, he saw Viktor’s fingers tighten around his crutch.

 

Markus turned toward Viktor then, head tilting in something that resembled… respect? It didn’t appear to be genuine, by Markus’s expression.

 

“I apologise for the way I addressed you, Dr. Jedlitzka.” 

 

Jayce was as taut as a bowstring as Markus approached Viktor and extended his hand tensely. 

 

Viktor glanced at his outstretched palm, and then back at Markus.

 

He hesitated, eyes dark and unreadable, before he shook it. 

 

And for a fleeting second, Jayce thought he’d perceived a gleam between their hands. But when they pulled apart, there'd been nothing there. 

 

“That will be all,” Markus said evenly. “You’re both free to go.”

 

Jayce forced a smile. “How kind.”

 

Markus didn’t address him further. He simply turned and strode to the door. Jayce followed, watching him leave with measured steps.

 

The moment the door clicked shut, and Jayce turned around, the living room was empty. He heard his bedroom door close at the end of the corridor. 

 

His fingers twitched at his sides.

 

What the fuck had just happened?

 

A slow exhale dragged out of him, and he sank onto the couch, absently worrying while scratching some loose skin at the edge of his thumbnail. He didn’t even notice the moment he began to chew on it.

 

Had he pushed too hard? Was Viktor alright? Was he worried about Jinx? Should he go check on him? Should he apologise? 

 

Would it even matter? Would Viktor just tell him to fuck off and be done with all of this, regardless?

 

Jayce was trying to learn this dance, but it was hard . There were invisible landmines everywhere and as careful as he tried to be with his steps, it seemed he was continuously making a wrong move.

 

When Viktor finally emerged from his room, he was fully dressed. Jayce stood, a twinge of pain shooting from his knee. 

 

“...You're leaving?” 

 

He should have known, and yet– 

 

“Yes.” Viktor moved toward the couch with slow, deliberate steps. He paused, fingers brushing over the furniture. “If you don't mind, I'll be leaving some of my possessions. I can't carry them right now and I'd rather come back with a case.” 

 

Jayce was nodding absentmindedly. “Yes, of course. That's no problem.” 

 

Viktor smoothed his fingers over the edge of the couch, languidly taking his time to feel the texture of it. “Thank you,” he said tightly. 

 

“Anytime,” Jayce found himself responding. 

 

There was another tense moment of quiet, where neither spoke nor made any move to leave. 

 

“Despite what you might think, I am not a hypocrite,” Viktor said, his voice steadier now. “Or at least, I try not to be.” 

 

Jayce softened while Viktor pressed on, “And furthermore, I like to think I am true to my word.” His voice was resolute. His eyes met Jayce's. “From a logical standpoint, your argument stands– regardless of my own personal feelings on the matter.” 

 

Jayce blinked. His stomach flip-flopped at the admission.

 

Viktor sighed in surrender. “I will tell you about my project once we get back to the lab." 

 

The words flourished an illicit elation in Jayce’s chest.

 

Jayce nodded through the joy wanting to burst through his torso. He tried his best to keep his cool, especially because every one of his cells was shouting about wanting to know about it now.

 

But he'd nudged and won, so everything pointed towards backing off and letting Viktor get some space to process. 

 

Jayce felt a sort of bubbling energy that hadn't been alive in him for many, many years.

 

“Should I drive you?” 

 

“No,” Viktor rushed to say. “I’ve already made my own arrangements.”

 

“Very well,” Jayce opened his arm to gesture towards the front door. “I'll walk you out.” 

 

Viktor pursed his lips as they strode in tandem. "Was this fight... choreographed, by any chance?" 

 

Jayce looked at him and, he couldn't help himself– he grinned. 

 

“Told you I could do it.” 

 

Viktor stared at his mouth before a huff of air escaped from him.  

 

The moment Viktor left, Jayce stared back at his eerily silent apartment. It pressed in on him from all sides.

 

No inch of it was the same. 

 

Every corner had a new memory and there was something slightly overwhelming about that fact.

 

Without much thought, Jayce let his legs carry him to the bedroom, his fingers brushing over the door frame as he stepped inside. The sheets were still rumpled from this morning.

 

Despite the daylight pouring in, Jayce slipped beneath the covers, settled himself and breathed in . 

 

Viktor’s scent hit him all at once. The pillow, the fabric, the space around him. It curled around his ribs, twisting something deep inside his chest. 

 

This could be just another one of his secrets. 

 

Is he?

 

That might have been the exact moment where Jayce realized he was colossally fucked. 

 

Because, in that moment, all he'd wanted to do was prove to Viktor that the answer to that question was, without a shadow of a doubt, yes .

 

Yes, yes, yes.

 

Jayce shut his eyes as he felt his pulse throb. 

 

He had work to do.

Notes:

TW: sexy thoughts, mean shit, manipulation

///

v: YOU LOOKED DEAD SO I POKED TO SEE IF YOU WERE STILL BREATHING
j: omg thats so romantic

its funny to me that it took jayce less than 20 hours to win the game HAHA

I kind of love that j asked "can you help me remove my bandage?" Only and somehow both of them directly assumed v was going to help with his whole back 😂

J: could I ask you how I've changed?
V: ...
V: welL YOUVE GONE AND DONE IT NOW HAVENT YOU
J: ??? D:

J internally: *pauses* *feels the tension* how can I poke the bear? hm
J: ...hypocrite
V: GASP

you guys I don't usually have reactions to my own storytelling but I can't tell you how much I laughed picturing J banging his head. Like I was staring at my wall (as one does) and the thing was playing like a movie in my head and when it happened I started cackling like an idiot. Thankfully, I was on my own. horny j *shakes head*

V did, in fact, not survive the stupid game.

Autistic people explaining their definition of terms being used in the middle of a fight is very dear to me 😂

V: pls cover up your tiddies so I can focus
J: NO >:( you will look at my tiddies because I said so!!!! And because your sass triggered my PDA >:(

markus: exists
j: ew

are you guys ready for the last batch of flashbacks from this ficccc? D:

also you guys are fakin champions for reading this slow burn HAHAHAHAHAH but i have plans :3

thank you for all of your magnificent comments, as always, you guys make my day every time. I hope you have an amazing week!!!

As always, any feedback and/or overall opinion is not only welcome, but deeply appreciated <3

tooodalooooo!

Chapter 23: (F) Besides, where else would I go, anyway?

Summary:

Viktor's stay in hospital

Notes:

TW IN ENDNOTES

henlo lovelieeeeeeeeeeeees!
I have missed interacting with you D:

apologies for late update (specially to my neurospicy peeps who thrive on routine), living has had the audacity to be challenging but we still kickin

THANK YOU FOR THE 300 KUDOS!!!!?? :')

This is another heavy, monster chapter, I hope its not too dull.

FLASHBACK

 

Jayce did not know what to do with himself. 

 

The moment he'd gotten into the hospital, with Viktor cradled in his arms and desperation written all over his features, things had happened fairly quickly. 

 

They'd taken Viktor from him immediately, placed him on a stretcher, and wheeled him somewhere completely out of reach. 

 

There were no other options other than to bide his time in the waiting room. Jayce sat there through the night. 

 

His gaze flicked often to the door where Viktor had disappeared into in a near-automatic reflex, scanning for any movement and attempting to will it into reality. When it did open, hope surged in his chest. Every time, it wasn’t for him.

 

He glanced at the muted TV, observed the other sleepless souls in the room, bit his nails, strolled restlessly around the room, scrolled aimlessly through his phone, tried to take an unsuccessful nap– anything to press fast-forward on this wretched night.

 

Viktor had been right. The fluorescent lights were a fucking nightmare. 

 

Around four-thirty A.M, Jayce went to find the cafeteria of the building, in the hopes of stretching his long legs and finding some momentary distraction. 

 

The room was mostly empty, with a total of three people having food by their lonesome. 

 

Funnily enough, there was a small gift shop within the canteen, which Jayce immediately found to be rather convenient, as well as slightly dystopian. He browsed a locked rack of sunglasses, doubling over and peeking through each lens, trying to stare up at the overhead bulbs.

 

Eventually, he settled on a black pair with a straight-cut top and a curving, triangular downward slope. The tips of the frame’s legs were dipped in neon pink. 

 

After going through the self-checkout, Jayce dragged himself back to that horrid waiting room. It was as if outside of those four walls, time was flowing as usual. Yet, somehow, sitting there– time relented to the point of pain, an ache that simply tunneled downward, further and further into his core. 

 

When Jayce emerged into the room, however, the person sitting behind the reception waved him over.

 

“Are you here with Mr. Jedlitzka?” She asked. 

 

“Yes,” he rushed to say, stepping forward. “Is there any news?” 

 

“Not yet,” her mouth tilted upwards apologetically, despite there being no real emotion behind it. “I was hoping you could answer some questions about his insurance.” 

 

Jayce swallowed, hard . He wasn't particularly good at this part. 

 

“Sure,” he said with feigned comfort and a tight smile. “I can try.”  

///

Jayce was informed he'd only be allowed to see Viktor well into the morning, which meant he had time to collect their belongings from the hotel and check out.

 

According to the doctor, Viktor had pneumonia. There were many reasons as to why that could be the case, considering his lungs were more prone to infection.

 

Still, the doctor hypothesised that he had most likely caught onto a cool draft. Inhaling cold air could have irritated his lungs, which had led to fluid build-up, and eventually caused a severe coughing fit. It was, of course, worsened due to his chronic illness.

 

Jayce racked his brain, trying to pinpoint when it could have happened. The only moment that came to mind was when they had stood talking on the balcony, taking in the night breeze after the competition.

 

Feelings of guilt, remorse, stupidity– they all converged into one heavy ball that was currently sinking into Jayce’s chest. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

 

Apparently, the coughing fit, making it impossible for Viktor to breathe properly, had dropped his oxygen levels dangerously low, which is why he needed to be hospitalized. 

 

The doctor explained that he'd be intubated for the next three days, having a ventilator pump oxygen into his struggling lungs. 

 

He might be awake from time to time, but he would be heavily sedated so his body wouldn’t resist the tube.

 

In the meantime, he would be given antibiotics, steroids, and pain relief. If all went well, he could be discharged in about a week.

 

Walking into Viktor's room for the first time was its own afflicting experience. 

 

The bed was to the right, windows to the left.

 

There wasn't much to it: an armchair, a nightstand and the necessary medical equipment. 

 

Viktor lay unconscious, a tube inserted into his mouth and down his throat. Jayce shivered, imagining how uncomfortable and painful such a thing ought to be. 

 

Jayce could hardly recognise him– Viktor looked pale, feeble and defenseless. Without his character to fill it, his body seemed dimmed and deflated.

 

Jayce hate everything about it.

 

In silence, Jayce pushed the armchair closer to the bed and lowered himself onto it.

 

His gaze fell to Viktor’s hand, curled downward, as if waiting for another to meet it. Jayce analyzed his elongated fingers and the thin veins spreading through the back of his hand, like inverted river paths coursing through his skin. 

 

Carefully, he slid his own hand beneath Viktor’s, feeling the brush of his middle finger graze against the length of Jayce’s palm. A remembrance caused a glitch within Jayce, which resulted in his mind going blank. 

 

It surprised him to find that Viktor had callouses of his own– faint, subtle, and nothing like Jayce’s. But present, all the same. It equally surprised him that he'd notice such a thing, in the first place. 

 

Jayce exhaled a quiet, unsteady breath as his eyes followed his tentative caress. “Fucking hell, V,” he murmured, fingers curling to meet Viktor’s innerwrist. “You scared the shit out of me this time.” 

 

The relentless beeping and huffing of the machines intruded on the charged silence of the room, mercilessly hammering–again and again–into Jayce’s skull. It acted as a reminder of the fragility before him, despite the fact that there was nothing fragile about Viktor. 

 

The faint, albeit steady, pulse pushing against his fingertips seemed to stubbornly agree. 

 

Jayce’s eyes traced his partner’s still frame. He gave one last, gentle squeeze before pulling back and sinking into the chair. “Take your time coming back to us.”

 

For the first day, Viktor mostly slept. Nurses came and went in no predictable pattern, always in a hurry regardless of the time of day. They adjusted Viktor’s IV drip, ensured he was nourished and medicated with whatever treatments he obviously couldn't take for himself.

 

Every time they marched in, Jayce stepped aside and tucked himself against the window frame, crossing his arms in front of his chest and folding his legs out before him. He’d observe quietly, try to learn what he could, and make himself unnoticed so his partner could receive the attention he deserved without Jayce obstructing the way. 

 

When they left, he would return to his place beside the bed, dragging the chair closer before settling back in.

 

To pass the time, Jayce studied, read, and brainstormed ideas for the final improvements on Blowie. He did it all aloud, in the hopes that hearing a familiar voice could be comforting to Viktor’s subconscious. 

 

On the afternoon of the second day, Jayce sat with his forearms resting on the edge of Viktor’s mattress, reading, when he sensed the slightest movement. After a beat, Viktor’s fingers twitched anew.

 

His attention snapped to Viktor’s face, desperately scanning for any sign, any at all. 

 

Beneath his eyelids, Viktor’s eyes flickered rapidly, and a tight knot coiled in Jayce’s chest. He wondered if Viktor was awake, but his body was unresponsive to his commands– Jayce had experienced sleep paralysis once in his life, and that terror was one he was praying Viktor was not under.

 

He leaned in and gently cupped Viktor’s hand above his own, hoping that he could help soothe any panic that could result from the disorientation.

 

“V?” He asked softly. 

 

With obvious effort, one eye finally cracked open. 

 

Joy and relief burst through Jayce’s spirit, the feeling swiftly travelling to his mouth, stretching it into a broad, involuntary smile as he regarded his friend. “Hi.” 

 

The ventilator continued its steady work, pushing oxygen into Viktor’s lungs. Even though his eyelids barely parted, his weary gaze was pinned on Jayce. 

 

“Go back to sleep,” Jayce murmured. “You’re okay. You’re recovering. You need rest.” 

 

Viktor’s fingers flexed against his palm, whether in protest or acknowledgement, Jayce wasn't sure. His other hand softly folded over Viktor’s, covering it with a reassuring squeeze. 

 

Through it, that tiny sliver of a pupil remained fixed on him, unwavering in its eroding attention.

 

“I’ll be here when you wake up,” Jayce promised. 

 

And as if he’d spoken some magic words, Viktor’s eye slid shut again, surrendering to the heavy pull so clearly etched in every corner of his body.

 

As the hours passed, Viktor drifted in and out of sleep more frequently, but overall, he was still completely out of it.

 

Every so often, Viktor’s fingers would jerk. Jayce noticed a pattern that suggested it usually happened when he took a silent break, and then began to speak again. Perhaps his voice startled his nervous system. 

 

He only left Viktor’s side when absolutely necessary– brief moments to relieve himself or find something to eat.

 

By the third morning, they finally extracted the damned tube. Jayce looked away, stomach twisting, as if he could feel it being pulled from his own throat.

 

Doctors and nurses were surrounding Viktor’s bed, working quickly. After settling an oxygen mask on his face, they lifted him upright, guiding his frail body into a sitting position. Viktor moved only as they directed him, like a lifeless puppet, limp in their hands.

 

From his spot on the window, Jayce leaned forward, his sweaty hands resting on his knees and itching to push himself up. 

 

“Please, be careful with him,” he found himself saying, his voice an edged murmur. They spoke over him. 

 

Viktor’s drained expression met his own over the nurse’s arm as the doctor pressed a stethoscope to his back, listening intently.

 

Their eyes were locked, and Jayce scanned his vacant expression once, twice, searching for any sign of how he was truly feeling. 

 

Are you okay? Jayce mouthed silently, his brows pinched and eyes wide. 

 

Viktor’s body was passed between hands like an afterthought . As if he were invisible. As if there wasn't someone underneath his condition. Or perhaps Jayce was just unaccustomed to it all. 

 

His eyelids seemed to weigh a ton, but he still held Jayce’s gaze, unyielding despite the hollowness behind his.

 

Two blinks. Yes.

 

The tight knot in Jayce’s chest released just slightly– relief seeping into the cracks of his worry. Relief at recognizing his friend. At seeing him respond with a sliver of himself, offered in a way only Jayce knew how to recognize.

 

Jayce sighed.

 

I am here, he mouthed slowly, hoping to return the sentiment.

 

Viktor's gaze remained vacant, unfocused, as the medical professionals handled him as they saw fit.

 

And then, finally– two blinks. 

 

It was tearing Jayce apart to see him like this. To reconcile this Viktor–the one fighting to draw breath in the hospital–with the man whose mind could change the world.

 

It didn’t seem possible or make any sense . The unstoppable force of Viktor’s character and brilliance, hand-in-hand with the cruel, inescapable limitations of his body. It felt like two opposing truths, forever at war.

 

Why had Viktor been burdened with so many physical conditions, while Jayce had absolutely none to account for? He couldn’t shake the injustice of it. 

 

Eventually, they eased Viktor back onto the bed. They informed the two of them that Viktor was not allowed to speak, at least for the next forty-eight hours. It was not news to Jayce, considering he’d already looked it up on his phone. 

 

The last thing they wanted was for even the smallest scratch in his already raw throat to trigger another coughing fit.

 

The professionals muttered parting words to each other, their movements sharp and efficient, a swarm dispersing as quickly as it had formed.

 

And then, it was just the two of them. 

 

Jayce observed him for a moment– eyes closed, breaths labored, chest rising and falling with a sharp effort. 

 

He pushed the armchair closer, settling beside the bed, and simply waited. 

 

Eventually, Viktor’s head lolled to the side and heavy-lidded eyes blinked open, meeting Jayce’s concerned frown. 

 

They brimmed with emotion, some of which Jayce could have some idea about. But the truth was, he was certain no amount of empathy could ever fully bridge the gap between understanding and reality.

 

Slowly, he raised his hand and placed it over Viktor’s forearm. He pressed his skin against Viktor’s, hoping some warmth might seep into him through the touch.

 

“What a bunch of brutes,” he muttered. Then, realizing Viktor was awake, somewhat alert, and watching him in turn in real time, Jayce’s mouth curved upwards. “Welcome back.”

 

Viktor didn't blink or squeeze his hand. He simply stared. 

 

Right. 

 

Gripping his notebook in his lap, Jayce took advantage of the fact that Viktor was momentarily conscious. 

 

“I've been working on something I've been meaning to tell you about.” 

 

The rip of the page was quick and dry, loud in the silence between them. Jayce held it up for Viktor to glance at before he unfurled some scotch tape he kept in his bag, yanked it loose with his teeth, and glued it to the side of the nightstand with a determined slap. 

 

“It's a Morse code reference, in case you forget,” Jayce clarified, avoiding direct eye contact with his friend as his cheeks burned. “So if there’s something you want to say but can’t, you can use it. I’ve got the same in my notebook.” He turned it so Viktor could see. “I'll be able to translate your blinks into speech now!” 

 

But Viktor wasn’t looking at the paper.

 

He was intently observing Jayce, eyes so completely empty and still, swelling with something Jayce did not know how to name. 

 

Jayce hesitated, then added, “I have also been practicing my sign language.” He clumsily signed the words, offering a faint smile. Viktor’s eyes widened. “Lack of speech will be one less thing to worry about,” he tried to assure.

 

Jayce had to admit he'd practiced those two sentences rather vehemently. Ever since Viktor had told him about these silent forms of communication, he'd taken it upon himself to study them before bed, just in case they might come in handy. 

 

It seems that was the case, only sooner than Jayce had originally anticipated.

 

Viktor’s gaze flickered between Jayce’s hands and his face, bouncing with quiet disbelief. 

 

“Since you’ve gone without talking before, I figured it might happen again,” Jayce admitted. “I didn't want you to feel… like you couldn't reach me. If you wanted to.” 

 

Jayce did not want to meet Viktor’s eyes. For some reason, he was scared of what he might find looking back.

 

He cleared his throat, shifting the mood. “Now that that's out of the way–” he reached for his bag, repocketing the scotch tape and retrieving a book. He wiggled it in the air for Viktor to see, smiling broadly and leaving the heavy topics behind. “Your full-time job, starting now, is to sleep, get better and put up with me. That's it. Everything else is momentarily irrelevant.” 

 

Viktor’s gaze drifted to the paper taped beside his bed. After a moment, he exhaustedly stared back at Jayce and began to blink– except in patterns of both the prolonged and rapid kind.

 

A rush of excitement went through Jayce. “Wait, wait! Hold on!” He fumbled for his notebook, flipping to the page where he’d scribbled out Morse translations. Pen poised, he nodded. “Okay, I'm ready.” 

 

Letter by letter, Viktor’s blinks formed words, punctuated by small, deliberate winks when he finished each letter.

 

Jayce’s pen stilled as the message came together.

 

You. Can. Go .  

 

Jayce blinked. His brows met in the middle, almost in insult. “V,” he said flatly. Viktor’s stare did not waver. 

 

With predatory slowness, Jayce leaned in, voice dropping to a low tease. “If you think for a single second that you're getting rid of me, I'd suggest you think again.” He let his piercing gaze translate the message across clearly. “There's nowhere else I'd rather be. You're going to have to come to terms with that in your own time.” 

 

Then, just as smoothly, he comfortably reclined back onto his chair and flipped his book open. 

 

“Besides,” he added, a faint note of mischief coursing through him as he glanced up, “where else would I go, anyway?” His eyes danced over the edge of the pages, taking in Viktor’s blank expression. “It is my life’s mission to make yours miserable, haven't you caught on yet?”  

 

He smiled widely before he added in an ominous tone, “Forever plagued by my presence.”

 

Jayce removed his shoes. “So,” he chirped as he worked. When he was done, he propped his feet on Viktor's bed, crossing his legs and making himself at home. “Stay clear of my evil purpose and let me be, you stubborn man.” Jayce rested the book on his thighs and shifted his attention to it, finalising his argument with the clear wrap-up.

 

The sound of the turning page intruded into the sudden quiet in the room.

 

Viktor’s gaze lingered. But then, slowly, his eyes closed in annoyed resignation.

 

Jayce smiled to himself as he began to read aloud.

 

Not long after, Viktor’s fingers flexed at his side. 

 

Time was spent in comfortable company, and Viktor seemed to once again drift in and out of sleep. Jayce felt colossally lighter, seeing Viktor breathe on his own. Witnessing his chest rise and fall, on its own. Steady. Persistent. Alive . He found himself staring at it at times, locked in yet without a single thought crossing his head. 

 

After a few hours, Jayce returned from a bathroom break and lounged himself exactly as he’d been before. He picked up his notebook to return to his sketching, sighing as he settled back into the comfortable posture.

 

Again , a subtle flicker of motion stirred in Viktor’s fingers. 

 

And this time, it’d been almost as if–

 

In a moment of curiosity, Jayce began to blab, letting the first topic that crossed his mind spill out. He adjusted his legs to rest closer to Viktor, the mattress dipping and shifting under his moving weight.

 

After another moment, Viktor’s fingers stretched– just barely.

 

Eager to test a new hypothesis, Jayce went for it, hoping he was reading the situation correctly. Carefully, he slid his legs so they'd be within Viktor’s reach, all while continuing to ramble about Blowie and the upgrades he’d been considering.

 

Nothing.

 

Then, with excruciating slowness, Viktor's hand crept forward. The gesture was minuscule and sluggish, but it was there.

 

In time, the brush of cool fingertips ghosted against Jayce’s calf, casually explorative. It was a faint touch, yet undeniably deliberate. Jayce held his breath as cold seeped through the fabric and into his skin.

 

That was it.

 

Jayce blinked in surprise, his words momentarily faltering as something in his chest pulled tight, only to be set immediately loose. 

 

As exhaustion claimed him, Viktor kept the tips of his fingers pressed against him. 

 

And Jayce didn’t dare move a muscle. 

///

The following day, when Jayce strolled back into the hospital room, he automatically filled the quiet with his usual chatter. 

 

“Well,” he drawled, dropping into his seat, “today’s flavor was tutti-frutti. And honestly? I have no idea what that actually entails when it comes to jello. I’m also slightly scared to find out.” He curled his lip in mock disgust. “Maybe this is one of those situations where ignorance is bliss.”

 

This had become their new routine. Viktor couldn’t speak yet, so Jayce took it upon himself to monologue, hoping to keep the silence from becoming too heavy– or to entertain him, if nothing else.

 

Supposedly, Viktor was now allowed to eat soft foods, and Jayce took it upon himself to go to the canteen and bring Viktor a new, surprising dessert each day. It was also a great excuse to stretch his legs. 

 

Golden eyes tracked his movements as Jayce peeled the lid off. 

 

“I don't know why they even serve these here,” he muttered, shaking his head as he studied the side sticker on the plastic container. “Aren’t they supposed to be helping patients get better ? This has zero nutritional value.” He gave the gelatin a skeptical look, then wiggled the cup for emphasis. “And look at that jiggle.” Grimacing, he tilted it so Viktor could bear witness to the aberration. “Gives me the creeps.” 

 

Viktor beheld as Jayce placed the cup on his nightstand, plastic spoon upright. The slight tremble of the substance made him shudder. As he reclined back into his seat, he noticed that Viktor had begun to blink. 

 

Jayce straightened, instantly alert.

 

“Oh! Hold on!” He reached for the booklet, flipping it open on the page marked by the pencil. He nodded, “Go.” 

 

Patiently, he copied down the dots and dashes, referencing his cheat sheet to translate the message.

 

Dork.

 

Jayce burst out laughing, repocketing the booklet. 

 

“If I knew this was the type of thing you’d want to voice while being nonverbal, I would have happily kept you silent.” A smirk stretched his lips as he wiggled his brows. “I bet that’s what you wish you could do to me, huh?”

 

Jayce could’ve sworn Viktor’s lips twitched under the oxygen mask. Leaning back into his chair, he propped his feet up on the bed again, leaving the jello abandoned on the nightstand so Viktor could eat whenever he saw fit. 

 

“ Alas ,” Jayce continued, mockingly imitating the word in Viktor’s usual tone, “this is what you get.” He winced. “And yes, that impression was terrible. And yes, let’s never speak of it again.” 

 

A sharp breath of air shot through Viktor’s nose, which caused him to begin coughing. 

 

Jayce’s smile dropped immediately.  

 

“Shit.” 

 

He was moving before he could coherently think about it, feet hitting the floor as his torso urgently bent toward his partner. His eyes darted around, desperate in their search, before locking onto the glass of water on the nightstand. Jayce passed it onto Viktor’s awaiting hand.

 

As Viktor struggled to lift it, Jayce was already there, helping him pull the oxygen mask aside so he could take a sip. The glass trembled slightly in Viktor’s grip, but he managed. Jayce took it back once he was done, lowering the mask over his mouth again.

 

Viktor let himself sink back into the pillows, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. His breathing was heavier now, raspier, like the fit had drained whatever energy he had slowly recovered.

 

Jayce remained at the edge of his seat for longer than necessary, but he was unsure whether or not he’d have to get help and his body had frozen in position at the perceived uncertainty. 

 

Only when Viktor’s breathing finally evened out did Jayce exhale, slow and quiet, before settling back into his usual sprawl. Feet up, book in hand.

 

“No laughing for you,” he chastised lightly. He opened the marked page and glanced at his friend.

 

Viktor didn’t acknowledge the comment. His gaze was fixed on the ceiling, distant and unreadable– almost as if he were hoping for it to crumble over his frame and take him with it. Finally, he inhaled a deep, stuttered breath.

 

Jayce hesitated, softening his tone. "You alright?"

 

Of course, it was a stupid question. Of course he wasn't alright . But Jayce had no idea what else to ask.

 

Viktor turned his head, meeting his gaze. Two tired blinks. 

 

Jayce gave him a look, mirroring an expression Viktor had rubbed off on him. "You know you don't have to pretend with me, right?"

 

A pursing of lips. Viktor straightened his head and shut his eyes. As had become common these days, his fingers inched toward the side of Jayce’s ankle, resting there, just barely in contact.

 

Two taps. 

 

Jayce’d realized he’d forgotten what he’d asked in the first place. His thoughts had been so scattered lately, his mind dulled by exhaustion and stress.

 

So he inquired, "Would you prefer quiet?"

 

One small tap.

 

Jayce nodded and turned his attention back to his book.

 

But his mind wasn’t really on the words anymore. This time, he was sure he’d made a real discovery–something beyond theory–about his partner.

 

In a baffling turn of events, Jayce was coming to find that Viktor, of all people, was grounded by touch.

 

Which was astounding, considering that anytime anyone lingered near his body, he looked visibly uncomfortable. Funnily enough, Jayce hadn't noticed this aspect of him at first, mostly because he himself was naturally tactile–not in a creepy way, he thought–and Viktor had never asked him to stop, so he hadn't.

 

Viktor had never rejected Jayce’s form of self-expression, including the casual gestures, hands on shoulders, shoves– overall, the physical affection that Jayce could not quite keep from pouring out of him. 

 

But a certain discomfort had become rather obvious to Jayce from Viktor’s interactions with other people.

 

And even though it was none of his business, Jayce couldn't quiet the ongoing curiosity he had nurtured for his dearest friend. 

 

Jayce had been conducting an investigation, which was the perfect task to keep his mind off the situation at hand.

 

He found himself engrossed in determining what kind of touches Viktor actually sought out.

 

It seemed grabbing his hand was too overwhelming, since he always squeezed back and then let go rather quickly. 

 

In fact, Jayce was coming to realise that grabbing in general, while not pushed away, was not the preferred touch.

 

The one Viktor favored was any that would allow him to rest his body against Jayce, without the effort of having to consciously keep it in place. 

 

The most recurrent were his fingers: sometimes all of them, brushing lightly against a forearm or an ankle. Other times, just the one. For some reason, Jayce found that particularly endearing.

 

Viktor would stretch that single digit and softly press against whatever body part was closest to his reach. 

 

It made Jayce... feel... useful.

 

Because he'd never seen Viktor search for anyone's touch before.

 

It made Jayce feel special to him. Just as Viktor was to Jayce. They just expressed it entirely differently– yet somehow, it felt just as unique to each of them. 

 

It was unique that Jayce felt so incredibly comfortable around Viktor, in ways he'd never experienced before, causing him to express himself with easy, open gestures. And somehow, this sole finger pressing against his calf– it felt like a reflection of that, except through Viktor.

 

Warmth spread through him– because he could be there for his brilliant friend, the one who had completely changed Jayce’s life for the absolute better.

 

And even if all he could do was lend an ankle for Viktor to graze his finger against, just so he’d know he wasn’t alone…

 

Then, honestly?

 

Jayce would consider that a day well spent.

///

On the fifth day, his mother showed up. 

 

“Ma?” Jayce blurted the moment he spotted her in the hallway. He set the cards he’d purchased in the canteen–cards he’d been playing with Viktor–on the bed and stood. 

 

“Ah! There you are.” 

 

She strode into the room, giving him a side hug as her attention landed on Viktor, who, at present time, was sporting the sunglasses Jayce had gifted him. 

 

It made him have a lethal bitch face. Or, well, enhanced it.

 

His mother chuckled, despite the clear worry in her warm concern. “Oh, darling. They could call you many things, but never boring.”  

 

With a modestly genuine tilt to his lips, Viktor effortfully pushed the glasses atop his head to return her regard.

 

“I didn't know you'd be coming,” Jayce said in a daze, still unbelieving that his mother had materialised from one second to the next..

 

“How could I not? I read your text and came right over.” Her smile widened the moment she internalised that Viktor was awake. She released herself from the hug and took Jayce's seat next to Viktor, who was sitting up against the pillows.

 

Something about Jayce's spot being hijacked made him internally grumble. 

 

Her hands flew to meet his expectant palm, squeezing it in her own. “Hello, my darling. I am so happy to see you.”

 

Then, with a dramatic flair, she leaned back with a grin. “Look! I’m wearing that blouse you told me to try. Notice anything else?” In a burst of what Jayce could only describe as condensed joy, his mother twirled her fingers under her chin, drawing attention to the pearl necklace resting against the base of her throat. Her eyes were gleaming. “What do you think? I got all dolled up just to come see you!” 

 

Jayce noticed the way Viktor’s gaze softened, the smallest glimmer of amusement flickering behind the otherwise blank expression. 

 

“You were right,” she continued, giving his hand another pat. “There’s no ‘right’ moment to wear the things that make us feel good. And if there ever was, coming to see my boys seems like the perfect one.”

 

She ceased her chatter when she noted that Viktor was no longer looking at her. He was staring at Jayce, blinking different patterns despite his clear exhaustion. Jayce, already on instinct, reached for the small notepad he kept in the back pocket of his jeans and the pencil tucked above his ear. He gave a quick tilt of his head as a way to notify Viktor to start over. 

 

Jayce's mother stared between them, her brows furrowed. “What is happening?” She asked quietly. 

 

After finishing, Viktor turned back towards her, his eyes heavy and kind. 

 

Eventually, Jayce looked at the page for a moment before turning it towards her with a broad smile. 

 

It was a single word. She took it in with mild surprise. 

 

Beautiful.

 

“You–” She shook her head, slightly discombobulated. “Did he– did you guys create a way to communicate through blinking ?!” 

 

Jayce grinned, smug satisfaction swelling in his chest.

 

She let out a short laugh, steering her attention back to Viktor, whose eyes lingered in her expression. “You do realize my son is a yapper, right? The more ways you give him to chat, the more he’ll go on and on and on– you’re aware of this, correct?” 

 

There was a slight twitch in the corner of his lips. He blinked twice. 

 

“He says yes,” Jayce translated with ease. “And I don't appreciate this unprompted gang-up.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame, peering between two of the most important people in his life with a faint smile curving his mouth. 

 

His mother huffed with amusement, shaking her head. “You two are unlike anything I've ever seen.” She took the playing cards and stacked them together on the nightstand. She gripped his hand anew. “Well, I have tons to catch you up on.”

 

“Ma,” Jayce cut in, a note of caution in his voice. “He's probably exhausted. Maybe we should let him rest.”

 

Viktor's tired glare lashed in his direction in quiet reprimand. His mother did the same. Jayce raised his hands in surrender at their simultaneous, piercing stares.

 

“He knows he can close his eyes anytime, don't you, darling?” 

 

“Very well, then. Ma, two blinks means yes, one means no. I’ll run some errands while you two catch up.” He met Viktor’s gaze. “I'll be back.”

 

Viktor held his stare for a moment. 

 

“Yes, yes,” his mother waved him off. “Don't worry about us. We'll be right here.” 

 

Jayce hesitated. He felt the urge to touch him, then– to give Viktor’s shoulder a reaffirming squeeze, to ruffle his hair, to pinch his nose just to be annoying. Anything, really. Especially now that he knew, in some small way, Viktor found comfort in it, too.

 

Instead, he winked. “Good luck with her.”

///

“Did you have a chance to look at the different research papers I sent you?” 

 

Dr. Hanne sighed a heavy thing, leaning back in that broad chair from her office. “I was able to skim through some of it, yes.” 

 

“And?” Jayce asked, moving closer to the edge of his seat. “What do you think?” 

 

“I'm not sure how to approach this,” she confessed. Jayce simply watched her intently, inviting her to continue with his silence. She pursed her lips. “The research you found is promising, but what you present– I'm sorry to say, it's impossible.” 

 

The word sunk into him, like a scalding pebble searing a path on its way down. The edges of his vision got fuzzy, but he refused to break eye contact.

 

“Impossible?” He echoed, quietly. 

 

She gave him a dejected tilt of her lips. “Can I offer you some advice?” 

 

Jayce blinked, pocketing his emotions for the sake of efficiency. A sort of numbness spread like wildfire through him, seeping into his body like a second skin. 

 

“Sure,” Jayce replied evenly. 

 

The doctor took him in for a moment, her eyes slightly narrowed as if she was unsure of whether or not to speak. 

 

Jayce was hoping she wouldn't.

 

A tight breath left her lips. “Stop wasting your time instead of making the most out of what you have left.” She grabbed a document for emphasis, wriggling it in the air. “You're focusing on all of the wrong things.” She dropped the file on the table with a thud. Her blue eyes scanned him.

 

“You're young,” Dr. Hanne shared softly. “I wouldn't want you to regret it.” 

 

Jayce stared for a moment. When no other words followed, he pulled yet another document from his bag. 

 

“What about this one?” 

 

Dr. Hanne exhaled profoundly as she stared at the file perched in Jayce's fingers. With a sigh, she took it from him.

 

“Ah, yes.” Her brows furrowed in thought as she skimmed through the pages. “I remember this one– this was the only feasible one.” 

 

Jayce leaned forward. “You think so?” 

 

“Yes. I know several doctors who perform such procedures.” Her eyes zig-zagged on the pages with impressive speed. “But then again, this would only–” 

 

“I know,” Jayce interrupted. Dr. Hanne nodded. 

 

Her studious expression landed on Jayce again, and as she slowly lowered the file, he had the bitter impression that she was not done talking.

 

“Your heart is in the right place, I can see you want to help, Mr. Talis–”

 

“Jayce, please.”

 

“–but everything you've presented to me so far is based on disconnected theories, experimental research, and a lot of wishful thinking.” Her eyes shone with something akin to pity and it made Jayce's stomach churn. “It's not… real.” 

 

Jayce reached for his bag, took out a notebook, and opened it on a specific page. He glanced at her, his features a perfect depiction of nonchalance. 

 

“We still have an hour, right?” 

 

She made an affirmative gesture with her head.

 

“Good. I have more questions.” 

///

Jayce heard the ruckus long before he even reached the room– voices raised in agitation, echoing down the hallway.

 

His mother stood next to the bed, acting as a barrier between Viktor and a group of nurses eager to get closer. Her hands were raised in a firm, protective gesture.

 

“Just give him a second!”

 

“Madam, we have other patients to see. Please, step aside.”

 

The moment Jayce crossed the threshold, Viktor's panicked eyes snapped toward him. He was hyperventilating, his chest swelling rapidly after every ragged, phlegm-filled breath. 

 

Jayce rushed to his side, his heart pounding.

 

“What's wrong, V?” He scanned the terrified look in his eyes. He glanced at his mother, his voice sharp with concern. “What happened?!” 

 

“Everything was fine until they barged in here, touching and prodding, moving him about–”

 

Viktor blinked frantically, his gaze darting as if trying to convey something desperate. Without missing a beat, Jayce pulled out his notebook, hastily jotting down the blinking patterns.

 

Outoutout

 

He was looping the word, over and over again. 

 

Jayce’s chest tightened. He turned to the nurses, frustration laced with worry tightening his voice. “Can he get some fresh air? Maybe that would help.” 

 

“No, of course not. He's in here for pneumonia,” the professional responded, as if that was self-explanatory.  

 

“What about his mental health? Being stuck here is probably extremely claustrophobic.” His voice was sharp, slightly louder now. Jayce’s desperation bled through as he took in Viktor’s look of despair.

 

One of the nurses sighed, her voice tinged with defeat. “We'll be back at a later time– when he's calmer.” 

 

As they left, Jayce’s mother reclaimed her seat, and Jayce leaned against the edge of the bed, close to Viktor.

 

“You're okay,” Jayce said soothingly. “They're here to help.”

 

He could feel the weight of his mother’s gaze, her eyes searching his face for some sign or explanation he didn’t have.

 

Viktor tried again, the frantic pace slowing, though there was still a very palpable undercurrent of tension accompanying every blink. Jayce mirrored the pattern in his notebook.

 

Please.

 

The word staring back at him felt like a gut punch. He'd never witnessed Viktor plea before, and the look in his eye was the perfect reflection of that desperate, quiet vulnerability. It made Jayce want to burn the whole building to the ground. 

 

“I'm sorry, V,” he whispered, his voice utterly shot. Viktor let out a tight breath, dropping his head onto the pillow with a resigned plop.  

 

His mother's hand reached toward the booklet, tilting it to glance at the words there scribbled. Jayce let her, his eyes turned down as a sense of impotence nestled inside his ribcage.

 

She turned to Viktor, quiet understanding flooding her regard. “You'll be out in no time, darling.” His mother’s voice was gentle as she offered reassurance with a light squeeze. “Just hang on a little bit longer.” 

 

Viktor’s face was still, his eyes closed, mouth set in a firm line, brows drawn in slightly. The silence stretched, the thickness of it dilluding with each passing minute and each heavy breath. 

 

There was nothing Jayce could do and that reality seemed to settle– even if it felt as if Jayce had been forced to swallow an edged rock.

 

Slowly, Viktor’s features relaxed, his breathing calmed and deepened. Before long, he was asleep, the tension melting from his body.

 

Jayce couldn’t help but feel a wave of sympathy as he observed Viktor’s body give in to deep rest after the altercation. It must have been exhausting to be in his shoes. 

 

An hour later, Jayce quietly walked his mother out of the room when she stood to leave. She paused at the door, looking over her shoulder as though reluctant.

 

“I can come back,” she offered tenderly.

 

Jayce shook his head. “Don't worry, ma. Thank you for being here.” 

 

There was no weight behind her small, knowing nod, but her expression shifted into something more concerned when her eyes returned. “I'm sorry things got so out of hand. I'm not entirely sure what happened, if I'm being honest.” 

 

“It's not your fault,” he reassured her. “I think he's just sensitive to being ruthlessly crowded and constantly touched, especially when he doesn't feel like himself.”  

 

Jayce's mother scoffed, the corner of her mouth lifting in a wry smile. “That makes him reasonable, not sensitive.” Her brown eyes met his, concern etched on every surface. “Call me if you need me, baby. I don't want you taking all of this on your own.” 

 

Jayce smiled, and right before he was about to respond, he caught a glimpse of the nurse who had been in the waiting room that first day. The one he’d quite enjoyed speaking to– all things considered.

 

“I'm not,” he voiced distractedly. “Promise.” Then, an idea struck him. He snapped his head back to his mother and planted a rushed kiss on her cheek. “Ma, I gotta go. But I'll text you with any updates, okay?” 

 

His mother blinked in surprise at the sudden jolt of energy. Jayce was already walking backwards from her. “Please, do!” She called after him. 

 

Jayce made a sharp turn towards the nurse that had caught his eye, his steps long and confident as he strode in her direction. “Excuse me,” he called out, causing her bored attention to lift from the chart in her hands. “Excuse me, hi.” 

 

The moment her attention was on him, something automatic clicked within Jayce, a broad smile flashing as he leaned his forearms on the counter between them.  “Remember me? Hello.”

 

She raised an eyebrow, clearly unsure of his approach. “I do… How can I help you?”

 

Jayce bit the inside of his cheek for a moment before speaking. “I couldn’t help but notice the beautiful gardens on my way in. I saw several patients out there, enjoying the sunshine. I was wondering if I could take my friend for a stroll too? He’s been cooped up in the same four walls for days on end and I think it’s finally getting to him.”

 

The nurse glanced back at her paperwork, completely uninterested. 

 

“Can't let you do that,” she replied flatly.

 

Jayce forced himself to keep his composure. “And why not?” He asked politely. 

 

She exhaled loudly. “I'm afraid the patients on this floor can't afford it.” 

 

Jayce blinked. 

 

The words settled.

 

A mixture of rage, guilt, shame, and more rage coiled inside him. His neck tensed, and his fingers twitched, wanting to clamp and turn into fists.

 

“He can't afford to go to the garden!?” His mask cracked, frustration leading every word coming out of his mouth. 

 

The nurse remained unfazed. “Mhm.” 

 

Jayce shook his head. “How the hell is that behind a paywall?” 

 

Her gaze lifted through her lashes, taking him in. “I don't make the rules, sir.” 

 

Jayce let his face drop into his awaiting palm, a slight desperation burning and itching to combust. The urge to lash out burned in his tongue, but he forced himself to calm.

 

There was a long pause as Jayce considered his options.

 

Eventually, she slanted toward him, her hushed voice finally showing a semblance of compassion. “But how are most things, right? Like therapy, or food, or housing, or medicine. This is all more of the same shit, this stupid game we play of seeing who gets to afford which human right today.” 

 

Jayce was struck with a wave of pure shock, completely unprepared for solidarity to be the next thing to come out of her mouth. Familiarity rang through him at the conversation they’d had a couple of days ago, unrelated and somehow directly correlated. 

 

Slowly, he lowered his hand, eyes scanning her now softened features. Perhaps he could attempt a different approach, one based on mutual understanding. That seemed to be a common thread between them, now for the second time.

 

Jayce adjusted his stance, the tension easing just enough to make room for something new.

 

"It must be difficult,” he tried softly, “sitting here day after day, having to tell people they can’t pay for what should be free.”

 

She scoffed. “You don’t know the half of it.” 

 

Jayce chuckled. “It gets worse, huh?” 

 

“And the worst part is that when patients are rightfully angry, who do you think they complain to?” 

 

Jayce grimaced. “So, they force you to implement these immoral rules, and then add it to your job description to play the role of the enforcer?” He tilted his head as she gave him an affirmative nod. “I hope this isn’t inappropriate to say, but that sounds soulfully exhausting. I’m sorry you're put in that position.”

 

She shrugged, her tone low and resigned. “You know– it is what it is. It’s worse for you lot. You’re not the first and you won’t be the last to want to help someone you care about only to get tied up by these ridiculous rules.” 

 

“I suppose,” he replied, his head slightly bowed. “It’s no wonder that those working in positions like yours are constantly desensitised, as if that wasn’t a necessity to push through it all.” 

 

“You got that right,” she laughed to herself. “You know, you remind me of my daughter. She also sees black and white in a sea of grays.” 

 

Jayce smiled faintly. “Considering she’s your daughter, I will choose to take that as a compliment.” 

 

The nurse snickered. Her regard slid to his, eyes slightly narrowing. “I know what you’re doing.” 

 

Jayce didn’t shy away from her scrutinising regard. “Please,” he murmured with aching tenderness. "He's deteriorating. I just want to give him some relief, you won't even have to do anything at all.” He cocked his head in consideration. “Probably.” 

 

Something in his tone seemed to land because she paused, looked him up and down, and heavily sighed. 

///

Viktor was jerked awake by a soft pressure on his shoulder.

 

The searing pain in his lungs, throat, and hips merged with the exhaustion that clung to him, creating a numbing fog that made him wish he hadn’t stirred at all.

 

Viktor was quietly hoping death would come like the ripping of a bandage– quick, straightforward, painless.

 

“Wake up, V.” 

 

His eyes fluttered open at the sound of that voice, that voice that narrated his dreams, those occurring when he was asleep as much as when he was awake.

 

Blinking heavily to clear the haze from his vision, Viktor could discern a broad figure looming over him. Green eyes twinkled brightly with unbridled energy, and a smirk on recognisable lips greeted him awake. Firm, calloused hands were gently urging him upright, and Viktor followed in complete trust.

 

When his gaze returned to Jayce’s, searching for any explanation, he flashed a thrilling, roguish grin. “I’m getting you out of here.”

 

The words didn’t quite register at first. Viktor’s mind struggled to process, but as Jayce draped his oversized jacket over his shoulders, bundling him in layers of warmth and protection– the tension in his body was swiftly replaced by foolish hope.  Slowly, a fragile but undeniable excitement began to pulse beneath his ribs at the mere thought of leaving this room, these walls, this bed, this lighting, this scent, these people, these machines– he wanted to be anywhere but here. 

 

Jayce must have seen the quiet desperation in his eyes because he clarified with a knowing smile, “For a little bit.” 

 

His hand lingered on the edge of his bedsheets, gripping yet immobile. Jayce's stunning eyes were softly pinned on him, expectant. 

 

The gesture alone enveloped Viktor as if he'd been directly embraced, flooding him with a surge of affection. Which was a surprise, considering a minute ago, Viktor would not have imagined himself capable.

 

Viktor lifted his eyes swiftly to Jayce's and blinked twice, rushing him with the intensity of the act.

 

Jayce was the one person who didn't need to ask and yet, somehow, the only one who did.

 

"Bossy," he chuckled under his breath.

 

Jayce swung back the covers and bent over to circle Viktor’s knees in a newly practiced move. Instinctively, Viktor’s arms reached for Jayce’s neck, finding support in the broadness of his shoulders. With a gentle motion, Jayce tucked him into his emanating warmth, one that quickly seeped into Viktor's bones with gifted relief, before Jayce carefully settled him into the waiting wheelchair beside the bed.

 

Viktor had half a mind to wonder where Jayce had managed to procure one, in the first place. 

 

But Jayce seemed to know exactly what he was doing. He untangled Viktor’s drip and wheeled it towards the chair. “You hold on to that,” he instructed. His fingers circled around the metal bar, clinging to it as if his life depended on it. If he had one task to focus on, he’d be damned if he didn’t carry it out.

 

The hospital was eerily quiet and dark. 

 

With one last check, Jayce adjusted the blanket over Viktor’s lap, zipped up his jacket, plumped the thick scarf around his throat, pulled down the beanie on his head– almost as if he were going through a checklist in his mind. 

 

Once satisfied, Jayce raised his eyes to meet Viktor’s. A sneaky smile tugged at his lips as he placed the sunglasses Viktor had been gifted over his head.

 

“Secret identity,” he whispered in clarification, obvious playfulness twinkling in Jayce’s expression. 

 

That beautiful expression. That beautiful person.

 

Viktor felt as if he were watching his reality through a TV screen. As if the images before him weren’t within his reach, but occurring from enough distance where he was but a mere spectator. 

 

But he attempted to make the most out of it, just the same. 

 

Jayce settled behind him and pushed the chair, the IV drip wheeling in unison by Viktor’s hand. 

 

He paused in the doorway, quietly peeking his head around the frame. Leaning over Viktor, he glanced down one side of the empty hall, then the other.

 

Viktor felt the warmth of Jayce’s abdomen seeping into his shoulder, the scent of earth and graphite and a hint of sweat, softly enveloping him. It immediately welcomed him home.

 

It was almost a necessity to lean into Jayce’s body, pulled like a moth to flame– and flame, he was. Viktor rested his temple against whatever body part was immediately accessible, utterly disinterested in understanding which one. The main feeling was one of natural sense. Of safety and care and protection, all transmitted by the mere recognition of his presence.

 

Viktor wondered if Jayce had been taking care of himself properly these last couple of days. The thought that that might not have been the case bothered him more than he cared to express. 

 

“Okay,” Jayce whispered conspicuously. “The coast is clear.” 

 

He turned to Viktor, his mischievous grin lighting up his face. “Ready?” Jayce asked with bubbling anticipation, his contagious smile causing a clench in Viktor’s stomach. He waited for Viktor’s go-ahead, eyes gleaming. 

 

There was a hint of exhilaration in those hazel eyes, chaotic and vibrant, and it was truly a sight to behold– to be in the company of another human being who cared so deeply about matters that he had no personal investment in. 

 

Deep underneath the numbness, Viktor recognised a primal part of him, beckoning from a distance with muffled sobs at the thought of being considered. Of being believed.

 

It was a part that warmed in tandem with another vital sentiment expanding in his chest, one that reflected the fact that Viktor had a voice with Jayce. Even if he'd he'd been seemingly stripped of it. 

 

Jayce was doing this for him– and him alone.

 

How could he not love the man?

 

Viktor blinked twice before he found himself actually crying, even though he suspected he would not have had the necessary strength to do so, anyway. 

 

Jayce’s breathtaking smile widened before he straightened up and gently lowered Viktor’s sunglasses over his eyes, shielding him from the harsh lights– despite it being the middle of the night.

 

“You better hold on tight, V,” Jayce said with an obvious grin by tone alone. “Cause’ we're about to make a run for it.” 

 

And without another word, he took off into a sprint. 

 

The rushing air immediately caressed Viktor’s face, fresh and cool, liberating, as Jayce bolted, propelling his wheelchair as Viktor gripped the IV for dear life.

 

It was curious.  

 

Viktor’s body had been like an anvil, sinking, sinking, plummeting into the depths of the sea. Viktor felt the weight of gravity cover his frame, like a blanket had been draped over him and it was as heavy as the sky. Being upright in any capacity was currently exhausting. 

 

But in this precise moment, as the air brushed his face and entwined with his hair; as Jayce's infectious laughter bubbled from somewhere behind him; as they soared through the long, white halls, past rooms where curious patients lifted their heads, watching them race toward freedom without looking back–

 

Viktor felt weightless again.

 

Everything that had brutally forced itself into the forefront during Viktor's entire life was suddenly shooed into the background.

 

Because despite the inescapable heaviness, or the condemning pain, despite sensing his life slowly drain from his body–

 

Viktor felt a beam radiating from somewhere deep within.

 

A wide, uncontainable, exhilarating smile had unfurled on his lips.

 

And in this singular moment suspended in time, Viktor was undeniably alive.

/// 

They found themselves in the gardens eventually, lit by moonlight and some warm light coming from the building. 

 

Jayce sat on a bench, panting, while Viktor remained locked in his wheelchair along the garden path to his right. His sunglasses were perched on his head and his eyes were shut. He seemed much more at peace. 

 

Cars passed in the distance, and a soft breeze stirred the air.

 

“Do you think they’re going to charge us extra, anyway?” Jayce amusedly asked, wondering if they’d been lucky enough to avoid getting caught. “Greedy bastards.”

 

“Oh! Which reminds me.” Jayce sat up slightly as his breaths slowly soothed into a normal cadence. “My mom was able to get you on our family insurance!” He externalised some excitement as he voiced the news. “How amazing is that? You don’t have to worry about any of that impossible nonsense anymore.” 

 

Viktor had opened his eyes and was watching Jayce, his brows slightly furrowing together.

 

“Don’t ask me how she did it, because I have absolutely no idea. But I spoke to the nurse, and apparently, it’s in effect!”

 

Viktor’s lower lip quivered ever so slightly, and Jayce felt his throat tighten. 

 

“That’s said nurse, by the way,” he added to distract from the churning in his stomach. “Her name is Shauna. She just happened to take her ‘break’ at the same time we were coming out here, isn’t that convenient?” 

 

Jayce had been desperate.. He’d been terrified something could go wrong with Viktor, and having someone nearby–just in case–felt crucial to making this whole adventure feasible. And safe.

 

Viktor stared at her distant frame, leaning against the hospital facade as she scrolled on her phone. He glanced toward Jayce and began to blink in patterns again. Jayce transcribed them, and translated them with new learned ease. 

 

How.

 

Jayce smiled, reaching to massage his taut nape under the pressure of his fingers. “I may or may not have promised Shauna I’d go for a coffee with her daughter.”

 

Viktor's expression was slack, still his eyes twinkled in a way that was all too familiar to Jayce. 

 

He was in there. That was most devastating of all, seeing glimpses of his friend trapped inside an unresponsive body. 

 

Jayce moderately rose and bent forward, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Viktor’s head. “I see you,” he murmured, his lips brushing the dark curls, now frizzy after days without washing. He sighed into them and after a brief pause, Jayce sat back down. 

 

“Besides, don't you worry– you're going to help me get out of it,” he announced smugly. “And I know what you're going to say, about not wanting to get involved and how I give people ideas , and how I should get a hold of myself considering this is a hospital , but it got you out so– I invite you to suck it. ” 

 

Jayce grinned as Viktor rolled his eyes, giving a slight tilt to his lips. 

 

Jayce copied the new dots and dashes, each letter distinctively enunciated. 

 

He ignored the perceived shimmer coming out of that molten gold, pinning him in place but with a single glance.   

 

Finally, a sentence came into view. 

 

Grateful. For. You. 

 

A rush coursed through Jayce’s body as his eyes began to water. He stared and stared and stared at those three words, a confirmation he’d been desperate to feel– now lay bare before him. 

 

He smiled up at Viktor.  “I am grateful for you, too, V.” 

 

When his eyes dipped to the paper again, he burst out laughing. He turned the booklet towards Viktor with a grin, despite the tears still threatening to spill.  

 

“You know exactly where this is going, right?” Jayce smirked, channeling all of his inner deviltry into the expression. “And it's even better now, because you're currently incapacitated, which means that you can't terrorise our lovely calendar.”  

 

Jayce tried to imagine Viktor’s response in his head. 

 

Are you taking advantage of my current circumstances to get your way? 

 

Or something of the sort.

 

“Yes,” he responded out loud, as if the query had been spoken aloud. “This arrangement is turning out to be quite convenient, actually.” Viktor’s regard seemed to dance, despite the clear tiredness coating every inch. Jayce winked at him in a gesture of silent comfort.

 

They took in the night breeze, the quiet, the relief for a little while longer before they unavoidably returned to their room. 

///

Jayce woke to the sound of teeth chattering.

 

It tap danced around the room, vibrating the air with each clickety-clack.

 

He blinked his eyes open, effortfully focusing his vision. The general stillness of the hospital hall hinted at the fact that it was still nighttime.

 

He swung his legs off the bed and leaned forward, taking Viktor’s hand gently.

 

"My God," he breathed. "You're freezing."

 

His lips were a shade darker than they usually were. He stared at Jayce with a slight panic.

 

Jayce felt immediately guilty, knowing that this was probably a result of their little escapade. 

 

"It's okay. I'm going to go get more blankets, hold on," he encouraged.

 

He sprang into a stand and strode out of the room. As if the wind were blowing at his feet, he rushed through the floor, searching every corridor for anyone to help.

 

A new nurse was sitting behind a small reception, and he beelined his way toward him.

 

"Hi," he said in a rush. "My friend is freezing. Are there any extra blankets you could offer me?"

 

He looked up from his screen. "Who's your friend?"

 

"Viktor Jedlitzka. Uh– room 217."

 

He typed on the computer for a moment. "Yeah, I'm sorry. We already gave him his complimentary blanket."

 

Jayce stared, a sharp disbelief piercing him. "Surely, there's more?"

 

"Unfortunately, we are only allowed to distribute one per patient."

 

Jayce wriggled his head, frustration creeping into his voice. "Could I buy one, instead?"

 

"Only patients from floors four and upwards can purchase hospital accessories."

 

A fury at the new understanding was beginning to sizzle.

 

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

 

He blinked. "Sir, I will call security if there's a problem."

 

Jayce turned on his heel, deciding not to waste another second of his existence having the same useless conversation, over and over again. This godforsaken place was driving him mad and sucking the life out of him. 

 

When he returned to Viktor, he was still shaking like a leaf. Jayce found his seat anew and reached for his hand, but other than that– he had no idea what to do.

 

"I'm not sure how to help." His words tumbled out in a rush, like a panicked confession searching for atonement.

 

Guided by whatever first thought came to mind, he took both of Viktor’s hands into his own. Jayce cupped them gently and leaned into them, blowing his warm breath into the hollow space between Viktor’s palms. A violent shudder coursed through his body as his eyes dropped to meet Jayce’s. They stared at each other, Jayce watching him through his lashes, keeping his mouth between their folded hands, his breath weaving warmth into Viktor with every exhale.

 

Viktor’s face was utterly neutral, but unwavering just the same. 

 

Then, something his mom used to tell Jayce every winter came to mind. Don't go leakin', she’d say whenever he wanted to leave the house without a warm hat to cover his head. According to her, it was one of the body parts that exuded the most heat. 

 

Gently, Jayce reclined over the edge of Viktor’s bed, nearing further so his partner could properly reach him. Then, he guided Viktor’s hands onto his scalp, which caused him to momentarily freeze.

 

"Just trust me on this," Jayce whispered.

 

Once settled into a position where Viktor didn’t need to strain, Jayce shut his eyes and sighed in quiet surrender. 

 

With slow movements, Jayce circled his hands around Viktor's closest forearm, keeping as much contact as possible in the hopes that it would help.

 

Viktor let out a trembling breath. Slowly, his fingers unfurled, lost inside Jayce’s hair, tentative at first, then mingling with purpose.

 

The touch brought instant comfort to Jayce– but it wasn’t his comfort he was presently concerned about.

 

The moment Viktor’s fingertips brushed his scalp, he paused, keeping his hand submerged in Jayce’s strands but still, somehow, at a distance.

 

Even so, in just a few minutes, Viktor’s shaking subsided considerably.

 

"There," Jayce murmured. "That's better, right?"

 

Funnily enough, despite the position seeming quite uncomfortable, the moment he realized Viktor was drifting back to sleep, Jayce followed suit almost immediately. 

 

But Jayce was woken again by violent tremors. 

 

They shook against the top of his head, foreign fingers still tangled yet somehow detached from the touch. It seemed the warmth had worn off, and the cold had returned to Viktor’s body with a mighty vengeance. Jayce blinked the sleep away from his eyes, mind racing.

 

He was desperate for someone to guide him, to tell him what would help or what he was supposed to be doing. Should he give him his clothes? Should he get on his knees and beg the nurse for that damned blanket? What could he do? What was accessible?

 

And– well, it wasn't his best idea, but it was accessible.

 

Ah, this was going to be weird.

 

He stood, determination settling in his mind. "I'm gonna scoot you over, V. I'm coming in."

 

Viktor’s eyes widened as he took in the sight of him, and between shivers, he surprisingly blinked twice.

 

With extreme care, Jayce snaked a hand under the sheets and gently tugged Viktor to the edge of the mattress. Then, he rounded the bed. He took off his socks. The mattress dipped under his weight as Jayce lay on his side, facing his partner. He took Viktor’s hand and placed it on top of his own.

 

It felt strange because Jayce rarely asked Viktor before touching him. Those acts had always been born without much thought behind them. Yet, under these circumstances… it somehow seemed vital.

 

He wanted Viktor to feel in control, for once this week. Just knowing didn't feel like enough.

 

"Can I come into your space?” He whispered. 

 

Two soft taps.

 

Cautiously, Jayce slid closer, entwining himself with Viktor as much as he possibly could. He placed one leg over Viktor’s thighs, gently circled his waist and scooped his side against Jayce’s welcoming torso. 

 

Viktor lifted his own hand, trembling fingers gripping the forearm pressing against his stomach. The hairs on Jayce’s arm bristled at the difference in temperatures.

 

Jayce hesitated for the most minuscule of seconds before leaning his head against the slope of Viktor’s shoulder. It was strange how natural it felt. 

 

The second arm unavoidably formed a barrier between himself and the rest of Viktor's body, but Jayce interlaced their fingers, ensuring Viktor's hand was securely guarded in his,

 

For a moment, Jayce feared he might crush the man.

 

"Too much?" He asked in a voice that was barely above a whisper. 

 

Viktor squeezed his hand once.

 

"Okay. Try to relax, V. We'll get you warm in no time."

 

One prolonged squeeze. This one was new.

 

Jayce made a note to ask Viktor at a later time, so he could have the full transcript.

 

As Viktor’s shaking gradually relented, Jayce found himself becoming entranced by the steady rhythm of the heartbeat beneath his ear.

 

The constant melody, the strong muscle at work– it calmed him. 

 

The rise and fall of Viktor’s chest was its own accompanying lullaby, and Jayce clung to it, letting it soothe him.

 

Viktor was going to be fine. Jayce repeated the mantra in his mind, over and over again. 

 

As Viktor’s heartbeat began to slow and his breaths grew deeper and further apart, Jayce let the beautiful changing symphony lull him to sleep.

 

_ _ _ 

 

When Viktor woke in the morning, warm and rested, Jayce was still tenderly asleep against the curvature of his shoulder. 

 

The heat of his body seeping into Viktor’s very core, nurturing life into him without wanting anything in return. 

 

Lying under Jayce did not feel like a cage. It felt like floating.

 

His hand was still stubbornly holding Viktor's. 

 

And, for once, he longed for a parallel reality where this wasn’t a hospital, where he wasn’t dying or incapacitated with exhaustion, where Jayce could see him as something more, just so Viktor could experience the single privilege of softly kissing him awake.

 

Which was yet another novel instict for Viktor to stumble upon.

///

A week later

 

“You can’t leave now,” Jayce whined. “We're so close, I can feel it!”

 

They stood in their usual lab, bouncing ideas off of each other and exploring different theories that would allow an increase in the percentage of purified air. 

 

Viktor had made an astonishing recovery, even though he hadn’t switched back to a cane– he kept his aid as a crutch. 

 

It was in those small details that Jayce could tell his friend was not fully recuperated. The subtle shift in Viktor’s posture, the quiet weariness lingering in his eyes– all tell signs. But Jayce knew it was to be expected, considering what Viktor had just pulled through.

 

Other than that, Viktor seemed practically himself again.

 

“I know,” he said as he buttoned his coat. Then, he offered an apologetic smile. “But I promised her.”

 

Jayce narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "I'm starting to think she prefers you to me."

 

Viktor smirked. "That's not uncertain, that's fact." 

 

Jayce glared in his direction before he rubbed a hand down his face, a sound of frustration coming out of his throat. “The only fact I know for sure is that you're ditching me for my mother, which hurts more than I can possibly describe.”

 

Viktor chuckled. He shared a pointed look in Jayce’s direction, adding with a slightly inquisitive tone, “I promise not to participate in conversations about you?" 

 

Jayce paused. Quirked a brow. “Is that a common occurrence?”

 

Viktor shrugged and the lack of response just made Jayce want to extract the answer from him all the more. 

 

“By the way,” he said instead, reminded by the topic at hand. “Could you not mention the, um– the insurance thing? Apparently, it's a long story.”

 

Viktor paused, swiveling in place in order to face his lab partner in full. 

 

“Oh?” He asked softly, confusion lacing his deep voice. Viktor pursed his lips in thought. “I wanted to… thank her.”

 

Jayce offered an apologetic smile. “Yeah, the thing is… she asked me not to tell you.” His hand flew to his temples and he massaged them, slowly drawing circles as if he could spare himself the headache. 

 

Viktor kept his poised stance, his attention unwavering. “Why not?”

 

“I’m not sure,” Jayce admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty.  “But I think I'd prefer her to be the one to tell you when she's ready. It would hurt her to know I betrayed my promise to her.” Jayce gave him a pitiful grimace. “Sorry to put you in this position.”

 

Viktor shook his head. “No, no. I appreciate that you told me.” He gave Jayce an understanding curve of his mouth. “I won't bring it up.”

 

The gesture was mirrored in Jayce’s expression. “Thank you.” His gaze narrowed with teasing as he added, “Have fun, deserter.”

 

"See you later."

 

For once, Jayce did not feel entirely out of place in the lab in Viktor’s absence. He had piles of research to sift through, and what was meant to be an hour turned into three.

 

Every so often, he’d be brought back to thoughts about Viktor’s current well-being. It alleviated him immensely that he was now living in close proximity.

 

But Jayce was struggling with the constant whiplash, the dramatic ups and downs of his condition. When he was good, he was phenomenal. When he was bad, well… 

 

And while it was true that Viktor had had a lot of downs lately, it could just be a streak of bad luck.

 

Viktor seemed to be in better spirits: joking around, staying up late, diving back into complex topics and thoroughly enjoying them. That didn't add up to someone on the brink of death, which eased some of the tension that had been gnawing at Jayce's insides.

 

Dr. Hanne had told him– two years. They had two years. 

 

So, until then, Jayce would take it one day at a time. 

 

He hoped that would be enough, somehow.

Notes:

TW: ideation (longing for death), hospitalization, medical procedures, innacurate medical procedures and disorders, medical/ethical malpractice, ableist perspectives and trains of thought, fake capitalistic hellhole

///

THE SLOW BURN IS DOING ITS THING. I did not expect this to go for so long guys, I swear to you. But so many new scenes just pop into my head and I can't contain myself D:

I love that Jayce is still very much oblivious, except now he's noticing weird things and sensations hes like "haha I must be hella tired, huh?" no, son--> UR GAAAAAAAAY

I also f with the fact that J has gone from "pls let me stay? :(" to "bish im staying, you do with that what you goddamn please x)". The perks of getting closer in your friendships hahah

turns out writing a chapter where one of the main characters is nonverbal and merely stares at you IS HARD

Also the hospital having so many paywalls is just my brain is simply imagining capitalism tipping further down its horrifying rabbit hole.

so much fluff amidst so much pain yall D: like yayyyy he blew into his hands for warmth, neeey v is dying, but yaaaay he jumped inside his bed to make sure he didn't freeze, but naaaaay this is about to get worse

shauna the mvp

J: can you help?
Shauna: nope
J: fine... you leave me no choice. *deep breath* I shall use the poweR OF EMPATHY AND MAGNETIC CHARISMA.
S: .....
S: fine

something about picturing these two idiots, running down a hospital hall (VEERY ILL ADVISED BTW), v with his lethal shades on, laughing like maniacs, idk it just warmed my heart

hopefully I can give you some v POV next time because I've been feeling uninspired, and when that happens, j just comes so much easier to me :')

For some music ambiance:
For all of my chronic illness and/or anticapitalistic baddies who are angry like V, I recommend "Seven Sins" by Ren (absolutely adore this artist, loads of mental health content and amazing art). The "In God we trust, God tied a noose to his neck, he walked to the edge and he jumped" lyric lives rent free in my mind.
For the moment where they are running through the halls in the hospital, I couldn't quite find THE song, but I'd say is a mixture of the immaculate, electric elation vibes of "Montage (ft. Paul Dano and Daniel Radcliffe)" from the Swiss Army Man movie soundtrack (ARE WE FALLING IN LOOOOOOOOVE? :')) and something like "Someone to you" by Banners. Sounds like a good soundtrack for that moment, I suppose. If anything occurs to you, please do let me know!

I hope you're all doing fantastic!

As always, any feedback and/or overall opinion is not only welcome, but deeply appreciated <3

tooodalooooo!

Chapter 24: (F) Home.

Summary:

Lab shennanigans, meni interactions <3

Notes:

TW IN ENDNOTES

THIS FIC HAS BEEN CHANGED TO EXPLICIT. READ ON ACCORDINGLY.

hi pretty humaaaaaaaaaans!!!!

I had to divide the chapter into two because it was getting SO LONG and I didn't want anyone to die inside while reading. So this one is a lil prelude to the next one eheheh just very long, self-indulgent conversations hahah

Enjoy ;)

FLASHBACK

 

In the weeks following the hospital visit, Meni had insisted that Viktor stay in her house. 

 

Both Jayce and his mother had discussed the fact that Viktor's next coughing fit could occur while he was on his own. What if his oxygen levels lowered again and he fell unconscious? What if he didn't get the help he needed in time? 

 

It was a whole new level of fussing to be under the attention of not one, but two Talis family members. 

 

So after much– much– persistence, Viktor relented, if only to soothe their clear anxiety around his health.

 

During the first days, they stayed at home, Jayce ensuring not to push too far, too quickly. They settled in the living room and turned the space into their own personal workspace. 

 

Slowly but surely, Jayce agreed to start driving them back to the lab, returning to their project with a newfound motivation to see it through. 

 

Whenever they were done for the day, Jayce drove them back. With the exception of the day on which Viktor left early to have a private dinner with Meni, they fell into a casual and reliable routine. 

 

Despite the fact that both could sense how close they were to completing the machine they had envisioned, reality seemed further away. 

 

They currently sat in the big lab, waiting for the test to run its course. 

 

Viktor glanced at Jayce, who was quietly sketching in his notebook. His feet were propped against Viktor’s desk, and there was a thin indent between his brows. His focus seemed to be on the page despite the fact that it was clear to Viktor that his mind was absorbed in a different dimension. 

 

There were new bags under Jayce’s eyes, dark and sharp. His hair was not in its usual neat comb, but rumpled and unkept, instead. As he studied Jayce's digits, spread over the back of the notebook, Viktor noticed the bloodied cuticles and peeled skin around his nails. Lately, Jayce's mind seemed dimmed and Viktor was unsure what to do about it. 

 

If Viktor were to take a wild guess, he'd say Jayce was exhausted and working overtime to attempt to conceal it. 

 

And for a moment, he experienced what he guessed his lab partner had grown accustomed to in Viktor’s company. To actively be able to discern someone's well-being faltering, and yet witness them go on as if the fact were non-existent. It frustrated him to admit it didn't entirely sit right. 

 

There was a twinge of guilt, coiling inside him in deep discomfort. 

 

Jayce had been accompanying him for months now. Doctors' appointments, visits, check-ups, hospitalisations… Viktor didn't have to exert himself to imagine the toll. Just the memory of Jayce sleeping next to him on an armchair for six days straight in the hospital was making Viktor queasy. 

 

Who would do such a thing? 

 

And not only that.

 

Without much thought, Jayce was constantly bringing Viktor back to life, with his chatter, his ingenious problem solving, his laughter, his warmth. 

 

Viktor replayed moments from that hospital stay in his mind over and over and over again. The look of unfiltered joy and relief when Viktor looked up at him for the first time. His diligence in fighting for Viktor's needs when he lacked the ability to voice them, himself. The fact that Jayce had ensured he could always voice them, at least to him. 

 

That gesture alone had meant more than anything else Viktor had ever experienced before. 

 

Jayce cared with such unrelenting fervor and Viktor had no idea how to respond or reciprocate. No one had ever taught him how. 

 

Nor how to express gratitude. Or how to give back in a way that truly mattered to those around him. 

 

After a life depending on no one but himself, Viktor found that he was lacking far more tools than he originally thought. 

 

How was he to repay Jayce for everything he was doing? Like letting Viktor stay with Meni or including him in their family insurance. 

 

It was all too much. 

 

A flash of white corridors, rushing past in a haze, Jayce's ringing laughter echoing somewhere behind him. 

 

After a blink, new images emerged. Of a moment coated in tenderness, where Jayce had climbed atop the bed and curled into Viktor's side, sharing his body and heat as if it were nothing. 

 

As if that quiet moment hadn't profoundly moved him, or irreversibly changed him.

 

Not once had Viktor expected to find himself on the receiving end of such fierce tenderness. Of such purposeful consideration.

 

Viktor had never allowed himself to imagine he'd ever get to hold Jayce so close, either. The soothing weight of his head on Viktor's chest, the solid feel of his thick, heavy thigh curling above his own legs. The comforting sensation of Jayce's palm skimming the line around his waist, pulling him closer to that blessed warmth. Viktor’s mind lingered on the memory of Jayce’s fingers weaving through his own, engulfing his hand so completely.

 

The delicate brush of his coarse palm, quietly seeking his own. The soft pressure of calluses, finding refuge against Viktor's tender skin.

 

That simple touch had been electric, a warm current that flowed all the way through his arm and deep into the rest of his body. Viktor had felt looked after, defended without having had to ask for it. It was a feeling Viktor had never experienced with any other human being for his entire life.

 

The flooding sensations had put Viktor to sleep almost immediately. 

 

Christ, how he wanted to hold him again. Properly. Consciously. 

 

Even if he was lost as to what that would look like, exactly. This was completely unexplored territory for Viktor.

 

But of course– that welcomed a new set of issues. 

 

Because, begrudgingly, Viktor understood that the reason everything between them felt so pure was that Jayce didn’t see him through the same lens. It removed any expectations, any questions, any tensions. Everything about his feelings hung suspended over an impossible divide, and, for now, Viktor felt strangely fortunate for it.

 

There were no doubts, no conflicts– just a quiet space where Viktor could indulge in his fantasies without fear of crossing any lines, considering they were clearly drawn in the sand. 

 

Besides, it's not like his feelings would matter for much longer. He chose to let them loose, within the respective boundaries established between them.

 

In an attempt to preserve whatever little sanity Viktor had to spare, he'd convinced himself that Jayce liked women, and women only. It was simpler that way. He wanted to savor every moment they had together without the weight of misplaced doubt creeping in just because Jayce was more affectionate than most. Combined.

 

Questioning Jayce’s intentions felt like an absurd way to push him away. 

 

Viktor had everything he could possibly need.

 

Yet every time Viktor accepted a new established dynamic between them, Jayce pushed the line a little further and offered something entirely new.

 

In moments of weakness, Viktor secretly–shamefully–craved it. More. It was a desire he buried deep when he was in his right mind, knowing he would never act on it. Not without a sign, a gesture from Jayce that clearly mirrored his feelings, something beyond fervent, innocent care.

 

The day Jayce looked at him with hunger in his eyes, Viktor might reconsider.

 

Until that impossible day, he internalised it as fact. Which was another reason as to why compartmentalizing his personal feelings and the reality of their relationship was easy. Jayce’s trains of thought had always been crystal clear, and there was a certain comfort in that certainty.

 

A buzzing sound brought Viktor back to the present. With a tired sigh, Jayce pulled his phone from his pocket. 

 

Viktor continued to tap away at his keyboard, refocusing on the app he was developing for Blowie and pretending he hadn't been itching to make conversation with the man sitting in front of him for the past hour. 

 

It was yet another unfamiliar feeling, one Viktor hadn't quite met before– the kind that yearned for interaction. Curiously enough, it only seemed to apply to Jayce Talis.

 

Jayce slipped his phone back into his pocket, a barely noticeable frown tugging at his lips. The moment he began to chew on them, Viktor took the opportunity in stride.

 

“What’s that lip done to you?” He quietly asked.

 

“Hm?” Jayce looked up, somnolent confusion painted in his eyes. “Ah. It's just this girl I met at the competition. She keeps texting me to meet up.” 

 

Viktor turned his way, casual as ever. “That sounds fun.” 

 

Jayce raised an eyebrow, a ghost of a smile flickering across his face. “Oh, yeah?” He asked. “Since when would you consider hanging out with strangers fun?” 

 

“Not for me,” Viktor clarified. “For you.” 

 

Jayce chuckled, the sound low and faint. “To be honest, I've never been into casual affection. I don't know what I was thinking, giving her my number.” 

 

A knowing smirk unfurled in Viktor’s mouth, his eyes casually drifting back to the screen in front of him. “I'd say it's pretty clear what you were thinking.” 

 

Jayce had practically made out with half the room that night. Viktor had honestly been surprised Jayce had even planned to return to their hotel room at all.

 

Jayce’s eyes stayed glued to the containment chamber, seemingly lost in thought, but Viktor wasn't blind to the telling flush creeping up his neck and onto the tips of his ears. It fed the sudden need to crack open the topic and discover what lay underneath the perfectly composed, painfully well-mannered persona he seemed to confuse for identity.

 

In the deadly quiet, Jayce reached for the water bottle waiting at his feet.

 

Perhaps he was merely too tired for retorts.

 

“And what's changed your mind?” Viktor inquired, pushing past the tense lull.

 

A shrug, lifting the bottle to his lips. “Honestly, I'm not sure. I can't be bothered, I think.” 

 

Viktor hummed thoughtfully, letting the quiet hang for a moment. 

 

“When's the last time you got laid?” 

 

Water sprayed out of Jayce's mouth like a projectile, a violent cough taking over. He doubled over and Viktor felt a curious smile bloom on his face. 

 

Pilties and their purity culture. 

 

“What?” Jayce wheezed, straightening to find his breath. 

 

The frantic, crinkling sound of the cap hitting the neck of the bottle in failed attempts to screw it back on filled Viktor’s chest with the quietest of elations. The plastic container was once more abandoned on the floor.

 

Viktor kept his amused eyes pinned on Jayce. “You heard me.” The roguish smile deepened. “When's the last time you fucked, Talis?” 

 

Jayce had had a point– about his enjoyment in putting people on the spot. Viktor was starting to make a sport out of it. 

 

Widened green eyes softened and warmed as they stubbornly returned Viktor’s prickling attention. Unexpectedly, a wild grin spread on Jayce’s mouth, crows feet shyly erupting and framing his regard. The slight gap between his front teeth led the march on his intrigue and cheery joviality.

 

Viktor's heart skipped a beat.

 

“Jesus Christ.” His tone was swarmed with amusement as he crossed his arms over his lean chest. “Who are you right now?” 

 

Viktor rolled his eyes, completely unfazed. “Bite me,” he voiced dryly. “Either keep your secrets or out with it.” 

 

Quiet laughter bubbled out of Jayce. He moved his hands behind his head and leaned back, setting his feet on the table anew. “Pfff, sometime last year, I guess. My mood has been… unpredictable.” 

 

Viktor smiled to himself. “It's always a roller-coaster after it's been a while.”

 

Jayce sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “Tell me about it. I can forget for weeks on end, but then the need hits me on a random Tuesday afternoon and I find myself agreeing to pretty much anything.” 

 

“That's…” Viktor gave a quick side tilt to his head as he watched his monitor, a loop-sided smile curving his mouth. “–an interesting new image of you.” 

 

“Oi,” Jayce cautioned with levity. “I keep my principles.” 

 

Viktor was itching to discover what those were, precisely. He pressed his lips together, resisting the urge to push for an answer.

 

Instead, he found himself settling, reluctant to scare Jayce off a topic he knew he might feel skittish about. 

 

Jayce grimaced, clearly wrestling with the decision. “I should probably tell her I'm not interested, right?” 

 

Viktor glanced in his direction and tilted his head. “Well, are you?” 

 

He let out a defeated breath. “Not really. I don't think I'd be doing it for the right reasons.” 

 

“And what would those be?” 

 

Jayce shrugged. “Fun, connection, good chemistry, care, curiosity, love, exploration– take your pick.” He rested his elbows on the back of his chair. “But here’s the thing– lately, I’ve realized that sex, for me, has to– purposefully –be about two or more people. If the only reason I'm in it is to scratch an itch, then it's almost like I'm no longer having sex with another person , you know what I mean? It’s more like I’m using something to get me where I want to go, which defeats the purpose of doing it with someone else, altogether. I assure you, I can get where I want to go much more efficiently on my own.” 

 

Jayce considered for a moment. “Put it like this: Sex without a personal connection feels void of the best part about it.” Jayce sent a fleeting glance in his direction. “To me.” 

 

Viktor felt a wave of affection fill him entirely with a single inhale. 

 

Of course, deep down, Jayce Talis would be all about connection. Of course, he'd be irked by the sexual objectification of the people he bedded without even thinking too deeply about it. Just as a natural consequence of his sweet personality. 

 

Viktor couldn’t help but wonder if that was what had happened to him at some point– if he had been used for his body, just because it was pleasing to look at, while the soft, worthy man inside had been dismissed. It was an unsettling thought, one that lingered in his mind.

 

Jayce broke through his introspection. “But I genuinely wanted to give it a go, during the party. Why not try something new, right?” He let out a long breath. “And now I'm back to thinking it will feel empty.” 

 

Viktor, quiet for a moment, offered a gentle response. “Then maybe you can wait until it feels like a good idea, again.” 

 

“Yeah, I just don't know what to tell her. I feel like I'm a mess of mixed messages at the moment.” 

 

“So?” Viktor raised a brow. “Say that. Give her a chance to make up her own mind about it. You're both adults.” 

 

Jayce cocked his head, mulling it over. “You might be onto something.” 

 

“Of course I am.” 

 

At that purposefully grating tone of unchecked self-righteousness, Jayce too slipped into his usual self with a grin. Leaning back, his playful eyes locked onto Viktor’s nonchalant expression, one he pretended to have lost to the information on his monitor despite the uncontrollable twinkle in the corner of his lips. Viktor had never fully managed to hide those tell-tale signs from Jayce. 

 

He secretly loved him for it.

 

“Why is it,” Jayce began with a tease, “that you have to be instantly insufferable about it?”

 

“Because it feels so good to be right,” Viktor replied, the last word curling inside his mouth in a low song. The faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth stretched before he shot Jayce a brief, mock-pitiful look. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

 

Jayce shook his head disapprovingly, yet his fingers were already flying across his phone screen, that reliable grin still etched wide on his beautiful face. “Insufferable, I say.” 

 

Another realization struck Viktor.

 

“You know,” he drawled when Jayce pocketed his device. “For someone who struggles with his sense of self, you were surprisingly clear just now about what you like.” He smiled genuinely in Jayce’s direction. “You just put a part of yourself into words, Jayce. I’m impressed.”

 

That Jayce was someone who, at times, craved connection. That it was a real, recurrent need. Viktor was certain the Jayce he'd first met would have never known how to make sense of that feeling, let alone voice it. 

 

Jayce blinked, pink hues decorating his cheeks as he considered. “I-I guess.”

 

“Perhaps you know yourself better than you think.” 

 

Jayce let out a short laugh. “Who knew all I needed was a lab partner who’d listen to my rambles.” 

 

Viktor chuckled. “I think you meant a lab partner who’d be subjected to your rambles.” 

 

The test kept building, the loading screen creeping closer to the end with every passing minute. 

 

Jayce tsked. “You know, I think I preferred you when you couldn't talk.” 

 

“No wonder,” Viktor shot back, his smile widening. “I was robbed of my objections, then.” 

 

He glanced over at his friend, and Viktor’s heart gave a little lurch when he found Jayce grinning at him. Blinding, radiant. Beautiful. 

 

So, so beautiful. Christ.

 

“I need to use the facilities.” Jayce naturally leaned forward, reaching his hand under the table to give Viktor's knee a gentle squeeze in parting. “I'll be back.” 

 

Viktor snapped his eyes back to his monitor when his cock twitched in his pants.

 

Was it normal to get aroused by seeing someone smile at him? 

 

Was Viktor slowly losing his mind?

 

As if agreeing, his attention religiously followed that perky behind walking away from him.

 

The moment he was alone, Viktor’s fatigue came back to the forefront in a blink and any floating feelings accompanied Jayce out the door.

 

The ache in his arms became draining, the conscious effort it took to keep them above his keyboard was its own curse. It was as if his body was tired of holding itself up.

 

There wasn't much these days that could distract from the perceivable erosion of his existence. Viktor was currently in the only place, with the only person, who could make him forget. Even if for a split second.

 

Forget he was fatigued. Forget he was incessantly hurting. Forget he found himself caring less and less with each passing day. Forget he was secretly pleading for it to be over. 

 

Jayce helped Viktor forget he was dying.

 

He simply made Viktor feel… More like himself. As if Jayce unknowingly helped him set down his burdens and forced him to enjoy any relieving distractions. 

 

When Jayce returned, he brought the warmth back with him. 

 

He settled in the exact same position as before and gave a tilt of his chin toward Viktor’s computer. 

 

“How long?”

 

Viktor glanced at the progression bar. “Twenty-two minutes.” 

 

Jayce sighed. “It’s slowing again.” 

 

Viktor nodded. “And something sounds off. There's a rattling sound in there that's bothering me.” 

 

“Yeah, I hear it too,” Jayce admitted quietly. “Should we stop the trial here?” 

 

Viktor swallowed and selfishly said, “No. Let's let it go all the way– the more information we collect, the better.” 

 

“Alright,” Jayce conceded, stretching his arms above his head and emitting a groan. He settled his feet up anew. “Your turn, then.” 

 

Viktor swivelled slightly in his direction and crossed his legs. His braced thigh settled atop the other like a heavy log, metal prickling his skin. “My turn to what, exactly?” 

 

“Yap,” Jayce smiled. 

 

Viktor’s eyebrow arched. “And what would you like to know?” 

 

"How about we stay on topic?” Jayce wiggled his brows. When Viktor glanced at the ceiling in preemptive prayer and shared an inviting gesture with a wave of his hand, Jayce continued. “So, we know your first time was with your professor.” 

 

Viktor snorted, the sound cutting through the air. "What has led you to believe my first time was with my professor?" 

 

"Well, he was your first kiss, right? So..." 

 

Viktor chuckled, whirling once more to settle under his desk and face his screen. "You assume incorrectly." 

 

The echoes of his typing filled the lab as Jayce shook the confusion from his head. A faint smile was tugging at Viktor’s lips and upon being received with silence, his focus flickered toward his partner. Jayce was wearing a stink eye. 

 

"Will you just tell me?!” He let out with clear exasperation. “My God. I always gotta’ suck the information out of you." 

 

Viktor’s smile widened and without pausing his clacking he responded, "I'd like to add you're the only person I let suck information out of me, in the first place." 

 

"How exclusive,” Jayce said smoothly, the joking tone lurking underneath. 

 

Viktor wished he knew how to tell him just how much. 

 

"So, Viktor Jedlitzka. Tell me about your first time, then." 

 

Viktor was quiet for a moment, pulling on memories he’d long forgotten about. "In my teens, some boy.” His arms were burning from the effort of keeping them upright, so he calmly set them on his lap to avoid visible tremors. “I have no idea what his name was but we understood each other nonetheless." 

 

"Wait–” Jayce scrunched his brows in disbelief. “You had sex before you ever shared a kiss?!" 

 

"Yes," Viktor shrugged nonchalantly. He kept his expression neutral, but he knew Jayce would see through to the glint of mischief in his eye. "A kiss is rather intimate, wouldn't you say?" 

 

Jayce’s eyes narrowed under his frown. "Isn't seeing someone naked far... more?" 

 

"Not to me," Viktor offered with a faint smile. "I'm not sure how to explain it. The mouth represents choice to me. The choice of the words that come out of it, capable of constructing realities as well as obliterate them. The choice of vulnerability, of letting someone so close to my face, to my breath, my throat. The choice of letting someone know what it feels like to have me so completely. I suppose I'm not comfortable with letting just anyone close enough to any of it. But funnily enough– genitals, for some reason, are just that to me. They’re yet another aspect we don't choose and still become servants of." 

 

Jayce was staring at him like he'd grown a second head. 

 

"V, you truly are, and I mean this in the sincerest of compliments, the weirdest person I've ever met." 

 

Viktor burst out laughing. "Is this why you ask me these questions? So you can immediately shame me for them?" 

 

"No!" Jayce rushed to say, almost defensively. "I just mean… I've never met anyone like you. You have a reason for everything." 

 

He smiled softly. "So do you. I'd say it's just part of the human condition." 

 

Jayce looked thoughtful, his voice quiet as he continued. "But, I don't know– it's like you're awake . You embrace your own rules in life. You’re so loyal to what feels right to you, no matter how it might be perceived. You are so wonderfully unapologetic and it's honestly bewildering.” A silly smile blossomed in the corner of his mouth. “Maybe once I grow up, I'll be more like you." 

 

Something contorted inside Viktor.

 

Outwardly, he chuckled softly. "Don't grow up too much," he murmured.

 

"Is it tiring?" Jayce murmured back after a moment. "You must always feel like you're going against the status quo." 

 

Viktor hummed in thought. "I'm sure you can answer that question for yourself." 

 

Jayce’s smile softened. "Yeah? You think I'm weird, too?"

 

I think you're extraordinary. That also goes against the status quo.

 

Viktor leveled him with a look instead. "Have you seen the way you eat your burgers sometimes?"

 

Jayce rolled his eyes. "Not this again." 

 

"Who... does that?" Viktor asked, genuinely perplexed.

 

"God forbid I turn the act of a meal into a full experience." 

 

"By eating each ingredient separately?" 

 

"It's the dissection of the meal what makes it so entertaining. It's like I'm going backwards in time!" 

 

Viktor shook his head with incredulity. "That... is inaccurate. And illogical.” Viktor raised his hand when Jayce opened his mouth to speak. “I could go into an entire tirade about you needing entertainment for your meals, but I think I will just settle for–” Viktor's upper lip curled with distaste as his brows furrowed. “Soggy lettuce? Isolated?" His nose crinkled, the distaste deepening. "Really?" 

 

Jayce was, of course, grinning. "It usually has barbeque sauce on it."

 

Viktor made an unmistakable sound of disgust. To his misfortune, the punitive enthusiasm caused a rasp to the inner walls of his throat and triggered a coughing fit. 

 

Jayce was already leaning forward to pat him on the back, all too happy with his choices. "It's alright, V. I'll teach you how to live." 

 

The cough blurred Viktor’s vision, rudely flooding him with a familiar dizziness that was inclined to take over. He turned away from Jayce, terrified that blood would spurt out of his mouth like it had on the night of the competition. 

 

It had petrified him to take a sip of water only to watch it turn red. Viktor had dropped the glass as if it had momentarily caught on fire.

 

He raised his hand, communicating to Jayce to stay where he was, not to worry. 

 

Tapping his handkerchief to his lips and stealing a quick glance to ensure there was no residue, he cleared his throat and turned back towards his monitor. 

 

He didn’t glance in Jayce’s direction, even after he gently offered him his bottle of water, which Viktor accepted with a quiet thank you .

 

Viktor did not want to see the foreseeable concern in Jayce’s features.  

 

"Viktor…” He began as Viktor gulped. There was a certain hesitation in his tone, and it immediately turned Viktor’s spine uncomfortably stiff. His lower back pinched in complaint at the sudden tension. “This pattern of ignoring your health until it knocks you down– it has to end." 

 

"Jayce," he warned, voice low. 

 

"No, listen to me.” His legs dropped and he leaned forward, reaching for his forearm. “If we’d actually considered your needs, then maybe we could have avoided you falling unconscious or getting pneumonia. I don’t want to ignore this and I especially don't want to gamble with your life, V." 

 

Viktor clenched his teeth. 

 

“Stop.”

 

“Viktor, I need your help–”

 

“I said stop,” he snapped, sharper than he’d intended. Jayce stilled, his eyes widened by the change in tone. 

 

His hand slowly retracted. 

 

Viktor ensured to soften it before he spoke next, guilt corroding him from the inside. “You’re crossing a line.”

 

Jayce breathed in, then out, almost with a sense of resignation.

 

Viktor’s heart was galloping in his chest, panicked, despite the fact that he did his best to keep his expression blank.

 

He couldn’t quite understand why this was still a touchy subject around Jayce. He had seen Viktor at his absolute worst– even when Viktor hadn’t been able to breathe for himself, Jayce had never once changed how he perceived him. He had never treated him any differently.

 

There was no evidence to suggest that Jayce would ever look at Viktor differently if he were to entertain these conversations, but still– Viktor simply did not want to think about it. Did not want to acknowledge it. Did not want to introduce topics that revolved around needs that other human beings did not seem to be encumbered by.

 

And he most definitely didn't want to have to convince his best friend that his way of thinking was not distorted. Viktor knew the conversations that would follow if he were to admit out loud that he refused to do anything that would push the inevitable away.

 

Viktor wanted to live during the rare moments he didn’t feel like dying. And that was difficult if the conversations constantly revolved around him dying. Or the efforts he’d have to put in to try to avoid it, for as long as possible. To stretch his suffering for the comfort of those terrified of the end. 

 

Viktor had been terrified, too. Once. 

 

But he had no efforts left to give, not a single shred of will to attempt to try in any way. And he knew this was impossible to understand for those who’d never experienced it. There was always something new to attempt, an unconsidered approach to visit, a novel way to pick themselves back up and continue on. Viktor didn’t feel as if that were the case for him.

 

Regardless of what he did, the way this ended was written in stone.

 

Still, he’d accomplished more than he ever hoped for. That was enough. Viktor chose to die the same way he’d lived– as himself. Focusing on what brought him joy and comfort, not squeezed for extra minutes of an existence that, by its very nature, was doomed.

 

"I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. Truly, I do. But please, don’t tell me how to live with my condition." 

 

"No, that's not what I–" 

 

“You told me once that if I ever felt crowded by you, to give you a shove. Consider this that shove." 

 

Jayce exhaled, his lips pressing into a tight line. "Okay." 

 

“Render complete.”  

 

The robotic voice cut through the tension, the glow of red light flashing before Viktor swiftly disabled it. The silence stretched between them, biting in the absence of their usual dynamic. Jayce sat with his elbows braced on his knees, hands clasped together between them, staring vacantly at the floor before him. Viktor watched how that downcast expression turned paler than usual, drawn. Jayce seemed suddenly drained.

 

Viktor’s chest tightened. 

 

Jayce didn't deserve to feel this way. Least of all, by Viktor’s hand. The realization hit him as if he’d gone against nature itself, and Viktor found himself at the mercy of his immediate urge to amend it.

 

“Jayce,” Viktor called softly. Tired, he looked up. But the words tangled in Viktor’s throat, a storm of unspoken thoughts colliding into one another and rendering him mute.

 

You’re a magnificent friend and I feel lucky to have you. 

 

I’m sorry for my tone. It’s not you– you’ve been perfect. 

 

I know you’re only trying to help. I’m sorry I’m difficult to understand. 

 

If I had the chance to choose, I’d consider staying simply to experience you – wrapped in years and caressed by time, a silent witness to all that you are and all that you will become. 

 

But that’d be my only reason, and that’s not reason enough. 

 

Instead, Jayce broke the silence first. “It’s my fault, isn’t it?” His voice was hushed and heavy.

 

Viktor blinked, pushing aside the chaotic swirl in his mind. Before he could inquire any further, Jayce gestured to the machine. “Blowie. The reason it isn’t working properly. It’s the hardware.” 

 

Viktor swallowed the lump in his throat, forcing his focus on the topic at hand. “Well, yes– but it isn’t your fault.” 

 

Jayce stood abruptly. “I need to run some errands. Groceries, bank–" He winced, but composed himself in an instance. "I’ll take some time to think about how to approach this differently.” Standing in silence, staring at his feet... The hesitation was nothing but apparent. “Should I drop you off at my mum’s?”

 

Surprise pressed on his lungs upon Jayce’s sudden urge to flee. Viktor pursed his lips, the only outward sign of his uncertainty. “Would you like me to come with you?” 

 

Jayce kept his eyes locked for a second longer before he sought refuge by drifting his attention to his feet, accompanied by a shake of his head. Something in the minuscule motion made Viktor’s heart ache.

 

“Then I’ll stay a while longer,” he concluded quietly. “I’ll order a ride later.”

 

Jayce shifted in place, reluctant. Viktor offered a small, tired tug of his lips. “There are people around, I won’t be alone. You can go.”

 

After a lingering pause, Jayce finally nodded, though the apologetic frown in his mouth never quite dissolved.

 

Determined, he pivoted away from Viktor and walked out of the lab.

 

Viktor continued to steal glances at the door long after it had clicked shut.

 

He despised that he didn’t know how to comfort. How to reassure. How to be the safe harbor Jayce had always so effortlessly been for him. 

 

Viktor had only ever known how to let people go.

 

But one thing he knew for certain: the moment Jayce had left, he’d taken a piece of Viktor with him. 

///

Jayce didn’t return to the house that day. 

 

Viktor had left shortly after him, eventually settling onto the sofa bed in Meni’s living room– the temporary arrangement sparing him the effort of climbing the stairs to reach the other bedrooms.

 

The coffee table was cluttered with documents, notebooks, and files– a familiar mess born from their late nights working together.

 

Viktor stared at them, lost in thought. 

 

He reached for one of Jayce’s notebooks, one that Viktor recognised from when they were in the hospital. 

 

Flipping through the pages, he scanned the familiar scrawl, trying to piece together Jayce’s thoughts on the latest issues they’d been facing with Blowie . Equations, sketches, half-written ideas– fragments of a restless mind desperate for a solution.

 

Then, the bottom corner of an isolated page caught his eye. 

 

Viktor’s breath hitched in his throat at the uncanny resemblance. 

 

There was… A sketch. 

 

Of himself.

 

Laughing.

 

It was a side profile, drawn in soft graphite. Viktor’s eyes were closed, his head was tilted back and he had a hand partially covering his mouth.

  

Viktor was held captive, unable to look away as his feeble heart began to gallop, begging to be released from its confinement. It was as if Jayce had touched him with his attention, with how each careful stroke on paper brought to life a sight Viktor had never met before. 

 

There was no recognition of himself ringing within, only perplexity. In drawing, Viktor was unguarded, buzzing with energy, authentic in his self-expression. Impossibly light .

 

The tip of Viktor’s finger traced the lines of the drawing, as if he could memorise them back.

 

Is that how Jayce perceived him? 

 

Before he could make any sense of it, a shadow passed by the doorway, hesitated and stepped back. 

 

“Oh,” Meni let out, her voice gentle. “Hello, my darling. I thought you were out– the house is so quiet.”

 

Meni was wearing a long, flowy forest green skirt that reached her ankles and an oversized cream colored sweater that accentuated her complexion. 

 

She lingered in the doorway, hand softly resting on the side frame, carefully watching. Waiting. 

 

Viktor offered her a small smile as he softly closed the notebook in his lap, gulping down the disarray of unexpected emotions it had brought about.

 

“Just me.” 

 

Meni stepped inside, tentative. “Would you mind if I joined you?” 

 

“It would be my pleasure,” Viktor replied, the sincerity obvious in his tone. He settled the notebook on the coffee table and shifted his crutch to the other side of the sofa bed, making space as Meni climbed onto the plush surface.

 

Noticing the ridiculous expanse of his blanket, Viktor instinctively grasped a corner and lifted it in offering.

 

She grinned and Christ, if Viktor didn’t see Jayce painted in the crinkles around her eyes. Meni accepted and draped it over her lap, nestling on the seat next to Viktor. 

 

“Should I be asking why it’s just you today?” 

 

Viktor remained quiet for a bit, assessing whether or not to discuss what was on his mind. He exhaled a slow breath.

 

“Jayce needed some space.” 

 

Meni hummed under her breath. “That's surprising." 

 

“Yes,” Viktor confessed with a murmur. 

 

Her voice was careful, coaxing. “What happened?” 

 

“We’re having… some issues with our project.” He hesitated before adding, “I think he might be taking it personally.”

 

A quiet chuckle. “Ah. He does that,” she confirmed, fondness woven into her tone. “He’s very hard on himself.”

 

Viktor exhaled, uncertain for only a moment before choosing honesty. “I think he’s been overexerting himself trying… trying to take care of me. And… I don’t know… How to…–” He trailed off as he glanced sideways at Meni. She gave him an encouraging nod. “–take care of him back,” he finished with effort. 

 

Meni’s lips curled into a knowing smile. “Wait here.” 

 

Before Viktor could question her, she rose from the sofa bed with purpose and disappeared into another room. When she returned, she carried a book–worn and well-loved, its pages slightly curled at the edges. It caused Viktor to arch a curious brow.

 

“My son responds to pretty much anything done with pure intentions.” Meni settled back down beside him. “I don’t think you have to be anything other than yourself, darling. If you keep him company, that alone will take him to the moon. But,” she added with a mischievous glint in her eye. “I also know a shortcut to his heart.” 

 

Viktor’s eyes followed her movement as she wiggled the book in the air between them. It took but a moment for him to realise it was a cookbook. Of course it was a cookbook.

 

Her knowing, almost impish smirk was infectious, and despite himself, the corners of Viktor’s lips kicked upward in a mirroring expression.

 

“How about we make him something special for dinner?” 

 

Even though his first instinct was to say yes, Viktor hesitated with the faint discomfort that stirred beneath the surface. 

 

Cooking had never been something he gravitated toward– too much standing, too much waiting, too many small movements that left his body feeling achy and sluggish and heavy. And to have to do it several times a day? It was a hopelessly draining endeavor, always had been.

 

But then again… this wasn’t just about producing a meal, was it? This was about Jayce. About knowing him in a way Viktor hadn’t yet allowed himself to.

 

And lending a hand with dinner, in the process. 

 

“That sounds lovely.” 

 

Meni beamed and set the book between them, flipping it open with practiced familiarity.

 

“I was also thinking,” she began, thumbing through the pages. “Since this half is filled with Jayce’s favorite meals, I thought, maybe… We could fill this other half with dishes you like.” 

 

Meni showered him with her enthusiastic attention, her grin both earnest and inviting. “Maybe we could learn some Zaunite recipes, add them to our roster. What do you think?” 

 

Viktor stared at her, momentarily at a loss. The offer caught him off guard, settling in his chest like something precious and delicate. 

 

Then, quietly, he smiled.

 

“It is so very obvious to me where Jayce learned his unparalleled kindness from.” 

 

Warmth spread through her cheeks, and she dismissed his words with a flustered wave of her hand. “None of that.” 

 

At the tone of embarrassment, his smile widened.

 

“I think you might be in for an unpleasant surprise.” 

 

Meni released a breathy laugh. “And what makes you say that?” 

 

Viktor offered an amused grimace. “Piltovian food does not prepare for the realities of what we eat in the Undercity. As someone who is quite fond of you, I would choose to preserve your taste buds.” 

 

With a sharp intake of breath, she slapped the back of her hand on his upper arm, prompting his lids to widen. “You take that back, young man. Have you forgotten where I come from!? If you pair me with this bland culture one more time, you will find your plate empty of any cuisine at all.” 

 

Her joking offense grew with each sentence, and Viktor was laughing alongside it. 

 

“Piltovian taste buds,” she comically muttered under her breath. “I have never been more insulted. And under my own roof, no less!” 

 

As their laughter quieted down, Viktor finally conceded. “You’re right, how could I?”

 

She gave a conclusive nod as she grabbed the book once more, a glowing grin stretching from cheek to cheek. “It’s a done deal, then.” 

 

Lost to curiosity, he stared at her profile. At that soft yet familiar radiance emanating from her. 

 

He eyed his fidgeting fingers, resting on his lap, and as much as Viktor tried to suppress what was clawing its way up, it burst out of him all the same. 

 

“Thank you, Meni. For... eh– for raising someone like him,” he continued, his stuttering voice quietly wrapped around every word. “He truly is…” Viktor’s throat tightened unexpectedly, emotion creeping in before he could snuff it out. “…one of a kind.”

 

When silence was his sole reply, he raised his peer only to find Meni already watching him, gaze just as glassy as his own. Viktor swiftly found his attention pinning anywhere else in order to get through what he was now surprisingly determined to get out.

 

Perhaps no one had taught him, perhaps he would express all the wrong things in all the wrong ways… But he would try, nonetheless.

  

“Thank you for everything, really.” Viktor swallowed the lump in his throat. “For letting me stay, for being so attentive, for inviting me into your home with such open arms from the moment you laid eyes on me, for–” Viktor took a sharp breath in, trying his best to avoid topics he was not meant to yet discuss. He exhaled slowly before he spoke again. “For being a living example of what to aspire to be.” 

 

The silence was not uncomfortable, but it was so full that Viktor wondered if, despite his good intentions, he'd completely ruined his loose attempt to express a feeling.

 

From his peripheral, Viktor observed Meni slowly reach for his hand. The faint warmth of her touch startled him, and after a moment of gathering his courage, he glanced in her direction. Ready for whatever expression might be awaiting him. 

 

Red-rimmed eyes welcomed his regard, kind and burning. There was a small, closed smile tugging at the corners of her lips, yet all Viktor felt emanate from it was sadness. 

 

Perhaps he had butchered his attempt, after all. He’d said too much, been too intense. The feeling was entirely new and it made his insides simmer with unease.

 

Before he could apologise, Meni’s fingers curled gently around his, silencing him with her steady grip despite the heartache pouring out of her. 

 

“Something tells me you know something we don’t.” 

 

Shocked, Viktor stiffened. He instinctively maintained his composure at a perceived accusation– even as his throat constricted to the point of pain. He did not breathe, he did not answer back. He simply stared at her, momentarily paralyzed, trying to avoid incriminating himself. 

 

Meni offered a small squeeze. “We're not looking at a multitude of years in your company, are we, darling?” 

 

It wasn’t really a question. It was a statement. A quiet truth spoken aloud between them for the first time.

 

Viktor’s chest caved in and his respiration stuttered. He held Meni’s gaze with an intensity he did not know how to dim. 

 

Slowly, he shook his head. 

 

A pause. Then– “Months?”  

 

Viktor didn’t answer. He only blinked.

 

But she understood.

 

Meni let out a slow, heavy breath, her fingers keeping their hold as she leaned back into the sofa bed. Her vacant expression drifted forward, settling on nothing in particular. 

 

Viktor followed her lead. They sat there for a while, staring at nothing. It was as if a weight had lifted from his shoulders, and he hadn't expected to feel that way when sharing one of the most intimate tidbits of his life. 

 

“How does it feel?” She wondered after a long silence, her voice close to a whisper. Meni let her head fall slightly to the side, eyes tenderly scanning Viktor’s features. “To know?” 

 

Viktor was taken aback by the genuine question. He took a moment to consider. 

 

“It's bittersweet,” he confessed with equal quiet. “For me personally, it's a mixture of loss and relief.” 

 

Dejection clung to her, chamfering any remaining edges with a soft understanding that hadn’t been there before. “You must be suffering quite a lot to say something like that.” 

 

The words dropped in front of him both devastated him as well as soothed him. It's never-ending , he wanted to confess. 

 

“It’s fine,” he offered instead, his tone light.

 

Meni studied him before she pressed her lips together. “And I’m guessing Jayce doesn’t know.” 

 

Viktor lifted a brow. “I’m sure he does. He comes with me to most appointments.” 

 

Meni’s expression didn’t shift. “Believe me, darling, if my son suspected it was in any way imminent…” She let out another heavy exhale. “I don’t think he’d be able to leave your side.” Meni’s head fell to the side anew as she gave him a knowing look. “At all.” 

 

Viktor had no response to that. He simply looked down, eyes fixed on their joined hands.

 

Even though he had no clue as to what Jayce might feel or not feel about it, it was entering a territory that Viktor was happy to set aside and completely repress. As he had, so far.

 

Meni’s fingers tapped slightly against his, bringing him back. 

 

There was a quiet plea woven into her voice when she asked, “Will you tell him?”

 

Viktor inhaled slowly, exhaling just as carefully. Once. Twice. Thrice. 

 

“When I’m ready.”

 

Meni studied him for a moment before nodding.

 

A silence settled between them, inviting a soothing pause. When Viktor finally spoke again, he did so with clear intent.

 

“Meni,” Viktor voiced with tender consideration. “I would like to give him something back. Anything, really.” His eyes lifted to meet hers, uncertain, edged with something vulnerable. “I think I might have an idea, in addition to your own. Will… Will you help me?” 

 

Despite the sorrow in her expression, her modest smile was still laced with earnestness. 

 

“Always.”  

///

Evening had settled in, and Jayce sat hunched over his desk, elbows braced against the surface and all ten fingers splayed over his scalp, drawing soothing circles around different pressure points.

 

Documents lay scattered before him, open forums on his laptop screen and research notes blending into a meaningless jumble. He was desperate to find a way– any way–to keep the machine from quickly degrading in function and efficiency as it did its job.

 

It was his side of the project, the one that continuously erred. The part that failed, over and over again. And next to Viktor, who was meticulous in every aspect of his work, Jayce couldn't help but feel ashamed about it.

 

The truth was, Jayce could not focus on the letters in front of him to save his life. His brain was shut down and sluggish, and even though he knew the meaning of the words he was reading, his brain was not computing them in the slightest. He saw shapes in his mind, dancing lines– but none were registering.

 

Which only frustrated him further and made him want to keep working. He needed to stay until he found a solution. It had to exist somewhere. 

 

A quiet clink pulled him from his spiraling thoughts.

 

A whiskey bottle rested beside his forearm, the glass standing proud. Pale fingers lingered on its body, a soft and awaiting grip.

 

Jayce pursed his lips– he didn’t need to look to know. 

 

“What's this?” He asked quietly. 

 

Silence. 

 

Inevitably, Jayce followed the line of those elegant digits, now retracting at the perceived attention. His eyes slowly crawled up the familiar forearm, the slope of his shoulder, the collar of his shirt, the curve of his neck. 

 

When Jayce's eyes finally struck gold, a soft smile spread on Viktor's face. “Hello.” 

 

Jayce tilted the corner of his mouth in return. “Hi.”

 

“This,” Viktor tapped the bottle’s sealed cap with the pad of his finger, “–is for when we finish it.” He offered Jayce a look. “Blowie.” 

 

Jayce quirked a brow. 

 

“On the day we finally succeed, we will come back here, open this bottle and celebrate by drinking it in full.” 

 

His eyes shot down, protecting Jayce from any signs he might be able to pick up in Viktor’s open regard. “What makes you so certain we’ll actually succeed?” 

 

Viktor tilted his head. “What makes you question whether we will in the first place?” 

 

Jayce rubbed a hand down his face, exasperation finally shining through the cracks of his demeanor. 

 

“I can't seem to get this right, V. The more I think about it, the more lost I feel.” 

 

Viktor let the words settle, carefully observing him. When Jayce didn’t elaborate, he prodded. “There's more.” 

 

Brows scrunched and his head shook slightly. “What do you mean?” 

 

“I can tell you’re stuck in a loop. Let it out.” 

 

Jayce blinked, thrown. “Wh– I am?”

 

“Come on,” Viktor encouraged in a light tone. When Jayce merely stared at him, he continued with a gentle tone, “That bottom lip has been continuously mutilated over the past week– don't think I don't notice.” 

 

The rusty sound of a stool wheeling closer echoed around the lab, and Jayce merely watched as Viktor lowered himself onto the seat. He gave him an attentive look. “What's troubling you, Jayce?” 

 

Their eyes locked for a weighted pause before a tight breath left Jayce’s throat. He dragged his fingers over his eyes, finally slumping back into his chair.

 

“I–” He swallowed. The chair creaked beneath his weight as he gave up trying to conceal his mood. “I'm scared I won't figure this out. I'm scared we've come this far only for me to fail at the last stretch.” Jayce shifted, staring at the mountain of sheets before him and yet not recognising any of the information. His nape was uncomfortably tight, but he ripped the words out of his throat in a single pull. 

 

“I'm scared to disappoint you.” 

 

Viktor continued to observe him intently, no sign of acknowledgement. The silence between them felt… wrong. 

 

“Come on,” he invited with a tenderness Jayce rarely saw come out of Viktor. With the help of his crutch, he pulled himself into a stand and offered Jayce’s shoulder a tiny shove. “Let's get out of here.” 

 

Jayce hesitated before helplessly replying, “Where are we going?” 

 

Viktor smiled down at him.

 

“Home.” 

///

Per Viktor’s request, Jayce stepped into the living room, hands outstretched in front of him as he blindly navigated the space. The blindfold over his eyes left him disoriented, but the scent of something familiar had already flooded his entire being– something warm, savory, and delicious.

 

“What is going on?” He asked, chuckling. “Am I smelling what I think I’m smelling?” 

 

“Patience,” Viktor scolded, his voice laced with amusement.

 

“You are so intolerant of frustration,” his mother snickered from somewhere behind him. 

 

Careful fingers untied the knot at the back of his head, causing the blindfold to fall from his eyes. He blinked several times to bring his vision into focus.

 

The living room was bathed in a golden glow, the recognisable hum of different lamps warming the space. And on the coffee table–

 

Food. So much food. 

 

Chips, dips, spanish ham, biscuits, sweets, and most importantly–

 

Tamales.

 

Beautiful, glistening tamales, piled high on a platter as if posing just for him with nothing but temptation and decadence.

 

Jayce’s mouth watered at once. “Sweet lord.” 

 

“For tonight,” Viktor began, “we’re putting work and any other responsibilities aside. Remember that movie you’ve been pestering me to watch for months?” 

 

Jayce silently perked up.

 

Viktor approached the sofa bed, lowering himself onto the furniture and setting his crutch aside. He lifted his gaze to Jayce’s as he began to unfasten his leg brace, a buried excitement twinkling in his regard. “Well, today we’re watching it. Together.” 

 

Jayce lit up in full. “No way.” 

 

“Yes, way.” 

 

“You're going to watch ‘Planet of Wars: the Beloved Prince of Matter ’ with me?!” 

 

He didn’t miss how Viktor was trying–and failing–to suppress a smile. "I suppose.” 

 

A delighted shriek tore from Jayce’s throat. Viktor set his brace aside, softly massaging his thigh with a wide smile on his face. 

 

“Oh, my God.” Jayce clutched his chest dramatically, willing his heart to slow. “I thought this day would never come.”

 

“I’ll leave you boys to it,” his mother offered tenderly. 

 

“Thanks, ma!” Jayce threw over his shoulder, reaching for the folder filled with movie discs he and his mother had collected over the years. “I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe you folded!”

 

Viktor rolled his eyes, settling deeper into the sofa bed as he pulled the oversized deep-blue blanket over his lap. “I’m sure you’d kill me if I left this plane without watching it.” 

 

Something twisted in Jayce’s stomach at the easily shared joke about a horrifying topic– the only one they seemed to fight about. But Jayce also recognised it for what it was: Viktor’s own way of trying.  

 

As he kneeled in front of the television, he swiftly concluded that maybe talking about it through humour was better than not talking about it at all.

 

Jayce decided to try right back.

 

A smirk unfurled in his mouth, turned over his shoulder for Viktor to see. “You better believe it. I’d have to resuscitate you and bring you back just for this.” 

 

A flicker of something passed through Viktor’s gaze– it resembled a form of recognition, relief, quiet mirth. “But only for this,” he clarified, mimicking a tone he’d clearly picked up from Jayce.

 

“Exclusively,” Jayce grinned. “Then you can go back to whatever dimension you were floating in.” 

 

Viktor hummed, considering. “I’d expect you to send me back yourself if you’re the one disturbing my peace. Be polite.”

 

Jayce snickered. “You’re right.” After settling the disc in the DVD player, Jayce pivoted toward the sofa bed and plopped down next to Viktor. “Where are my manners?” 

 

“That’s precisely what I’ve been saying,” complained Viktor, a loop-sided smile on his face. 

 

As Jayce gripped the remote, he couldn’t help but pause to examine the table brimming with delicious snacks before them. 

 

Slowly, his softened expression leaned in Viktor’s direction. “You did all of this–” Jayce swallowed, scratching his nape for a brief moment before re-meeting Viktor’s expectant regard. “–for me?”

 

The corners of Viktor’s lips curved upwards in the warmest of expressions. “Who else?” 

 

Jayce was at a loss for words. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out– perhaps out of fear that if he did, tears would follow.

 

The exhaustion was really taking a toll on him and his emotions, as of late. 

 

A pale hand found its way into Jayce’s vision, softly enveloping the side of his hand. At the understanding that it was Viktor the one seeking him, something inside his ribcage clenched. 

 

When Jayce nervously met his stare anew, it was kind and gentle. “Don’t say anything.” Viktor offered a soft squeeze. “I just want to disconnect with you.” Ambered hues were piercing into his very soul, careful and vulnerable whilst assertively pleading. “Turn your brain off with me?” 

 

Jayce felt it then, the surge of affection that coursed like wildfire through his entire frame at the uttered words.

 

He couldn’t help himself– he grabbed Viktor’s forearm and pulled him into an engulfing embrace. 

 

Viktor made a soft sound upon impact, but wasted no time circling his arms around Jayce’s back.

 

“It will be my pleasure,” Jayce whispered wetly, genuine joy crackling inside him despite his tiredness. He squeezed his partner, nestled in his arms.

 

After a moment, Viktor squeezed right back. 

 

_ _ _

Unsurprisingly, Viktor discovered that Jayce was one to speak during movies. 

 

Every time he had something to say, Jayce would pause the film and yap for minutes on end. He shared his perspectives, his thoughts, his humorous comments, or went out of his way to ask Viktor about his own opinions. 

 

Surprisingly, though– Viktor discovered that he absolutely loved it. 

 

He was experiencing two things at once– both the film and the inside of Jayce’s brain. Jayce would voice the most unexpected comments, or launch into detailed critiques of the most trivial scenes, delivering an excruciatingly precise, impromptu essay on why that particular moment was flawed or brilliant.

 

It was as if he were watching the movie through Jayce’s eyes.

 

Viktor had never once considered he could possibly enjoy a movie like this– cut into tiny pieces and filled with commentary in the in-betweens. 

 

But it was Jayce.  

 

Somehow, anything he had to say was always relevant, poignant– it added to the experience of watching it with him, which only made Viktor feel content and connected to his partner. 

 

The worry inside him was slowly thawing at perceiving his best friend return to his usual self. 

 

The movie was terrible. But somehow, simultaneously, truly wonderful. 

 

Whenever there was a lull, Viktor would venture into his own inquiries about Jayce’s favorite character, the plot, or simply tossed in some playful, shady criticism to provoke a reaction.

 

Every time, Jayce took the bait with elated offense. He talked and talked and Viktor basked in his sunshine, feeling the warmth of his presence seep into his very core. 

 

They ate the extraordinary food, they laughed, and in those moments, they recharged.

 

By the time the credits rolled and their conversation wound down, Jayce had sprawled himself out on the sofa bed, staring at the ceiling as he absent-mindedly rubbed his stomach in circles. 

 

“We’re back to the loop, huh?” 

 

Jayce let out a tight breath. “I just can't stop thinking about it.”

 

With a curt nod, Viktor bent down and reached for the stack of documents he’d hidden on the floor, away from Jayce’s wandering eyes.

 

“Very well,” he accepted, dropping the files between them. “Then, let's think about it together, shall we?”

 

_ _ _

 

Jayce blinked, taking in the newly added work before him. “Really?” His voice was small and vulnerable. He felt like a child, for some reason. Abashed in the hopefulness that Viktor would be genuine in his offer.

 

“We’re partners, remember?” 

 

The words Jayce had spoken to him during the competition were echoed back to him, and a sense of giddy relaxation flooded him all at once.

 

We're supposed to help each other.

 

As he heard his own voice in his mind, Jayce’s smile slowly stretched and overtook him entirely. Viktor must have felt infected by it because he stared for a second before the corners of his mouth lifted, accompanied by an almost imperceptible wink. 

 

Impulse overtook his sensors and Jayce grabbed Viktor’s cheeks in one hand, squeezing them together as he let out a low, guttural sound– somewhere between frustration and affection. Cute aggression, as he’d heard it called before.

 

Viktor barely had a moment to react before a startled giggle burst past his lips, muffled by Jayce’s fingers. The sound was instinctive, surprised, and impossibly light.

 

"Ruhleesh meh!"  Viktor’s protesting words came out so garbled that Jayce couldn’t help but rupture into laughter. He released Viktor, per his request– but not before flicking him squarely on the forehead. 

 

Viktor had adopted a deadpan expression, comically unimpressed by Jayce’s explosive energy. 

 

Settling beneath the blanket, they spread their notes across its surface, turning it into an impromptu workspace.

 

Hours bled into one another, the night stretching long as they worked side by side in quiet synchronicity.

 

The moment Viktor yawned, Jayce was onto him. “You should go to sleep.”

 

Viktor stared at him for a moment before dismissively reaching for Blowie’s blueprints. Unhurriedly, he studied them before scribbling a few measurements in his notebook, seemingly unfazed. 

 

When Vitkor noticed the maintained stillness, he raised his gaze once more only to collide with Jayce’s curious expectation. “I’m not going anywhere,” he clarified.

 

Both the tone of unwavering certainty and the words blossomed something tender within Jayce. As if leaving him to figure this out on his own were utterly unthinkable.

 

They fell back into the rhythm of their work, the silence stretching on. Eventually, Viktor spoke.

 

“Jayce,” Viktor murmured, his soothing voice pulling Jayce’s attention. Their eyes met, and Viktor’s gaze had softened, an unusual vulnerability radiating from within. “About what you said earlier…” 

 

“Ah, forget it.” Jayce made a move to return to his research, but was swiftly interrupted. 

 

“No. Listen to me.” 

 

Cautious amber was awaiting him and Jayce instinctively braced himself.

 

“You could never disappoint me.” Viktor’s tone was calm and yet, shockingly nurturing. It was a side of him Jayce didn’t hear often, and it reset something inside his brain to be on the receiving end of it. “I know this process is frustrating, especially with how exhausted you’ve been lately. But in my eyes… We’ve already won.”

 

“Yeah,” he murmured with impossible quiet. “I know.” Then, an exasperated groan ripped out of him. “But it's like a thought I can't reach, V.” 

 

Viktor shrugged, speaking matter-of-factly, “It’ll come to you.”

 

Jayce grimaced. “I’m not so sure.”

 

“I am,” Viktor replied with a faint smile. “I can be sure for both of us.” He reclined slightly, looking at him with slight amusement. “Your brain melts a little when it’s under pressure. We need to let it rest.” 

 

Jayce was touched by the thought that Viktor knew how his mind worked– and where it sometimes faltered. It was a strange comfort, but one he didn’t want to linger on for too long.

 

“I will– once I figure this out.” 

 

Viktor was nodding, as if he’d expected such a reply. He returned to his notebook, still carefully sketching out the sections of Blowie’s hardware, breaking it down to pinpoint the problem areas.

 

“Suit yourself.” 

///

 

 

Jayce blinked. Then, he blinked again.

 

Viktor had slumped sideways, his head plopping against Jayce’s side. His breathing was slow and heavy, yet Viktor’s fingers still clung to a handful of documents spread across his lap, his pencil dangling loosely between them.

 

He looked peaceful– and yet, utterly drained. 

 

And still, here he was. 

 

By Jayce’s side. Relentless, stubborn, brilliant, wonderful human being. 

 

The most important person in his life.

 

Jayce swallowed hard and nudged closer before he could stop himself.

 

Lately, he’d come to realize how much he missed Viktor’s touch.

 

More than that– he missed Viktor searching for his touch. The way he had in the hospital, where he’d reached for Jayce as if he was something safe, or something necessary. Jayce missed seeing, in real time, just how much he mattered. The press of cool skin against his own. The quiet, irreplaceable weight of being needed.

 

And God, he wanted to be needed by Viktor.

 

Jayce craved to be an exception. One of the rare few Viktor sought, leaned into, allowed himself to rest against. Jayce wanted to remind him that he could. Not with words, but with presence.

 

Maybe that’s why he’d been touching Viktor more often, lately. Small, casual brushes. A hand on his back. A steadying squeeze on his knee. A flick to his forehead. 

 

It was as if his body was impulsively trying to remind Viktor's: I’m here, within reach. Use me. Just in case Viktor forgot.

 

A soft sound escaped Viktor’s lips as he unconsciously nuzzled closer, the warmth of his temple settling against Jayce’s arm. 

 

Jayce stilled. His chest clenched, uncertain to move, to breathe too deeply, to shatter this fragile moment. He could only watch, heart aching, as something unbearably soft unfurled inside him.

 

Courage found him in between quiet breaths. Carefully, his hand lifted and hovered just above Viktor’s cheek. There were no thoughts, no apparent anxiety, nothing but delicious quiet in his mind. With the barest of touches, Jayce brushed back a few indomitable strands of hair, tucking them away to free Viktor’s complexion.

 

He felt so grateful. Grateful that Viktor didn’t seem annoyed by his shortcomings. Grateful that Viktor wanted to be beside him, regardless of the outcome. Jayce felt so seen by the man nestled against him, in ways he thought he'd never be able to properly express. 

 

If anyone would know how to help with the limitations in his knowledge, it would be Viktor. 

 

Jayce couldn’t think of a single other person who would dive into the tedious trouble of studying mechanics just to be able to offer genuine, valuable assistance. It was completely unheard of.

 

Inexplicably and before he could think better of it, his knuckles drifted downward, featherlight in their intention. With a slight tremor, they brushed over his cheekbone, faintly tracing its indented curve. Sharp, yet soft– just like him. Jayce lapped his knuckles once, twice over his rosy cheek. On the third, they dared graze over Viktor's mole, the one resting below his right eye. 

 

Thu-bump. Thu-bump. Thu-bump.

 

Viktor hummed in his sleep, burrowing deeper into Jayce’s side, causing him to retract his hand in fear of waking him.

 

Jayce exhaled shakily. He couldn't stop himself when instinct carried him forward and dipped his head, softly pressing his nose into Viktor’s curls.

 

His scent was immediately grounding. Familiar. Something that made Jayce’s eyelids grow heavier on instinct.

 

So he let them.

 

Leaning his head back against the pillow propped at his back, he closed his eyes and let exhaustion win.

 

Maybe Viktor had a point. 

 

He could try again tomorrow. 

///

Dawn hadn’t yet arrived when Jayce jolted awake with a sharp gasp, his head snapping up from where it had unknowingly lolled to rest against Viktor’s.

 

“Oh, my God, V!” His voice was thick with sleep but buzzing with excitement. “I think I got it!” 

 

Viktor's eyes snapped open, as they always did when he was rudely awoken. Papers, notebooks and laptops were scattered all over their blanket, spread out in their laps.

 

Jayce scrambled for the pencil still dangling between Viktor's digits, hands brushing momentarily as he frantically scrawled numbers along the margin of a document, muttering under his breath as he worked. Viktor, still groggy, tilted his head around Jayce’s arm, blinking sluggishly at the scribbles.

 

The moment Jayce finished, he snatched up the paper and waved it in front of Viktor’s face. “We need to go!” 

 

“Now?” Viktor asked with a muzzy tone. 

 

“Yes, now,” Jayce insisted. He punctuated the urgency with a loud, sloppy kiss to the top of Viktor’s head before jumping off the sofa bed.

 

Viktor grumbled in clear protest, sinking further into the cushions. He stretched his limbs like a cat, letting them tremble with effort. 

 

Jayce chuckled as he bolted from the room, only to reappear around the frame a moment later. 

 

“Actually, you can sleep in,” he amended. “I need to hit the smithy first, remake the cogs and reinforce the system. Meet me in the lab after lunch?” 

 

Viktor scoffed. “Absolutely not.”

 

Carefully, Viktor moved his legs off the bed, rubbing his eyes. “I'm coming with you.”

Notes:

TW: ideation (longing for death), queer denial/erasure for personal comfort, illness

///

I love how whipped V is.
J: smiles at him
V: I have never been more aroused, actually

new drinking game: take a shot anytime anyone smiles at anyone else x)

Didn't mean for jayce to also be demisexual (albeit differently from v), but here we are x)

Also the fact that j was sketching v laughing while he was intubated in hospital? As if he needed the reminder of what his friend "actually" looked like 😭😭😭😭😭

meni sniping the fact that V was somehow saying his peace D: eeeeech

i was itching for a chapter where we see more of V being there for J, in his own lil way. Poor baby is not a natural at being supportive like J is, but he is trying his best :')

And j is starting to feel things yall, he's obtuse but I love that it's so genuinely innocent that he just goes for it

I wanted to give you guys a lil elevator music chapter while I finish the next chapter, which is fully packed 8)

As per usual, I've missed interacting with you!

I hope you're all doing fantastic!

As always, any feedback and/or overall opinion is not only welcome, but deeply motivating and appreciated <3 truly

tooodalooooo!

Chapter 25: (F) Should we do it again?

Summary:

lab conversations. terrible science. going out.

Notes:

TW IN ENDNOTES (!!!)

 

hey guyssss

I honestly do not know how I feel about this one. it's a LOT of weird ass conversations and weird ass internal monologues and little moments and rushed things and for some reason it aint it but I also desperately want to push forward with the story so here we are cursed, we live to see another day

strap in this is the longest one yet. shit is going down, yall.

btw moving forward I am unsubscribing from one post a week, i think my brain needs to take it chill for a bit because I refuse to burn out before I get to the end of this romance so help me god. but that might mean it'll take a bit longer, my bad monarchs. I hadnt expected to have so much to tell. so slowly but surely. but yeah, just wanted to let yall know! thanks for your continuous support, I would have NEEEEEEVER kept writing if it wasn't for the lovely interactions I have been so privileged to have with you. As always, appreciation post only.

happy roller-coaster

FLASHBACK

 

After a change of clothes and picking up Blowie at the Academy at the early hours of the morning, both hopped into Meni’s car once more and drove to the smithy.

 

On the drive, Jayce kept side-eyeing Viktor, the silence palpable despite Viktor not being fully aware of the reason for that being. 

 

The tenth time Viktor felt Jayce’s eyes on him, he groggily glanced in his direction. Jayce was observing his chest, and at the newly returned attention, he snapped his head back to the road.

 

“Have you done your academy report yet?” He asked unpromptedly.

 

“Yes.” Viktor paused for a moment. “Weeks ago.” 

 

Jayce groaned. “I tried to get started on it so many times,” he whined. “I can't sit and write an essay about a day in the lab . It’s so incredibly boring. ” 

 

“I don’t think you have a choice,” Viktor responded with a yawn. 

 

Jayce seemed pensive for a moment. “Do you think they’ll accept a video time-lapse of it, instead?”  

 

Viktor responded with a shrug and a noise of non-commitment. The lack of talkative mood must have been palpable because Jayce was uncharacteristically quiet for the rest of the ride.

 

The moment they arrived at their destination, Jayce swiftly set up a chair next to the desk by the door and handed Viktor a face mask to guard against any fumes and stray metal particles. Jayce parted with a gentle shoulder squeeze as Viktor eased into his seat, settling in to observe.

 

The only interaction exchanged had been Jayce asking Viktor if he minded loud music, to which he'd responded with a smirk followed by an enthusiastic, “ Crank it .”

 

Not long after, Viktor got an automatic notification on his phone to join an open playlist. A ghost of a memory encouraged him to queue up several songs, a soft quirk to his lips. 

 

On the neighbouring table, there lay a scientific magazine, clearly overused by the wound edges. Viktor recognized it immediately and an amused exhale shot out of his nose. 

 

When he opened it on the specific page, Viktor skimmed through the article they had written about their win at the distinguished innovators competition. 

 

At just twenty-four, scientist Jayce Talis is redefining the future with his sheer talent and unbridled brilliance. Beyond good looks and dazzling charm, there is a mind pushing the boundaries of innovation and bringing groundbreaking advancements to the streets of Piltover, eager to change life as we know it. 

 

Viktor smiled to himself, proud to read such words being written about his friend. Jayce was beyond deserving of the recognition, and it warmed him to witness others start to catch up in what Viktor had always seen.

 

The first picture was of Jayce, with a dashing smile, confidently waving to the crowd. 

 

The second picture, on the bottom of the second page, had been cut out of the magazine. Under the void, it read, Jayce Talis and lab partner, Viktor Jedlitzka. 

 

With a soft curve still etched in his mouth, Viktor closed the magazine anew and glanced toward Jayce, busy in the far corner of the room.

 

And quite quickly, Viktor was rendered utterly speechless. 

 

Ah. This had been a bad idea. 

 

A very, very, tremendously bad idea. 

 

Jayce worked with an easy confidence, hammering away at molten metal– or whatever the hell he was doing. Viktor couldn’t be sure. Couldn’t focus. Could barely remember his own name.

 

Despite the safe distance, it made no difference at all. Viktor was somewhat conscious of the fact that his brain chemistry was being altered in real time.

 

Jayce was shirtless beneath his protective gear– an absolutely nonsensical and infuriating contradiction. He wore a leather band, which neatly wrapped around his waist. Sparks illuminated the lean lines of his body, tracing over taut muscles that flexed with every powerful movement. Viktor’s throat dried as he observed how Jayce’s sweat slicked his skin, inadvertently catching the light.

 

His mind zeroed in on Jayce as if he were parched and the only source of hydration were those tiny droplets, cascading down his temple, neck and torso.

 

That ridiculous physique, moving with fluidity and determination, made Viktor start to sweat, himself. 

 

It gave him all the wrong ideas. He truly was no better than anyone else who came into contact with Jayce Talis.

 

He had no clue how long he sat there, watching, gazing, daydreaming, his hip protesting against the uncomfortable seat and yet so utterly disinterested in moving. 

 

Eventually, Jayce threw on a T-shirt, the fabric clinging to his damp skin like a second damn layer of temptation. He approached, sleeking his hair back and rubbing his nape. “I think I'm done?” 

 

Viktor raised a brow, noticing the uncertainty in the tone.

 

“Can I see?” 

 

“Of course.” 

 

Jayce went to procure Blowie and swiftly returned to Viktor’s side, settling the machine on the table beside him. 

 

Viktor peered inside, recalling the designs he’d studied the night before in an attempt to make sense of what he was looking at.

 

Jayce, ever so perceptive, pointed out the changes, explaining the upgrades he’d made so far.

 

As Viktor nodded intently, he lowered his mask and let it rest under his chin.

 

“What's the issue?” He asked once Jayce concluded updating him.

 

Jayce hesitated. “I'm not sure this will work anymore,” he admitted in a quiet voice. “It feels more like a theoretical patch.”

 

Viktor hummed under his breath. “This is not my area of expertise, but have you considered isolating this area here?” He pointed. “I was looking at the blueprints this morning and I thought– if we separate it from the central rod, we could punch it without compromising the main function.”

 

Jayce cocked his head, listening with purpose. Considering. Then, as if struck by inspiration, he leaned forward, the wood of the table creaking under the newly added weight onto his knuckles. 

 

“It would definitely keep it from rattling.”

 

Naturally, ingenious man that he was, Jayce built upon the idea, mapping out potential solutions that were actually compatible with the machinery at hand.

 

They bounced them back and forth, Viktor trying his best to serve as an echo chamber for Jayce’s train of thought. They fine-tuned any details in a familiar rapid-fire exchange that always left Viktor’s core buzzing with excited anticipation. Especially because it was tremendously contagious when it filtered from Jayce’s tone.

 

“That's…” He shook his head slightly, his lips stretching into a genuine smile. “That's brilliant.” 

 

After a silent beat, Jayce shoved his hand inside Blowie, biting his lower lip as he clearly tried to reach in. 

 

Viktor was startled for a moment before raising a brow. “Need smaller hands?” He wiggled his fingers in offering.

 

“No,” Jayce gritted out, his face twisting in concentration. Then, a breath of relief. “Got it!” He showed Viktor a cog the size of a coaster and dumped it on the table with a heavy clunk . “We’re not going to be needing that anymore.”

 

He stared intently into the entrails of his machine, and Viktor could see the thoughts running behind his eyes, planning, preparing whatever new materials he needed in order to make the possible changes they’d just discussed. 

 

Jayce’s spark had slowly returned, gleaming in the corner of his eye and pulling at the edges of his lips now. It was an unmistakable energy– one that shot Viktor with adrenaline. One Viktor knew meant Jayce was about to bring something to life.

 

Viktor’s stomach flip-flopped at the sight of it.

 

Jayce clutched Blowie to his hip, determination flaring. “That’ll do it.”

 

Then, as if on instinct, he swirled toward Viktor, grinning so wide Viktor wondered if it would blind him. Each time, it was like staring into the sun.

 

Jayce took a step forward before he staggered, pausing mid-stride. The sheer force of his excitement faltered for just a second, awkwardness creeping into the act as his gaze flickered down to his own torso.

 

“I'd hug you,” he admitted. “But I'm all wet.”  

 

Christ. 

 

“I– I don't mind,” Viktor muttered, surprising himself as the truth slipped out. He glanced to the side before pinning his feigned attention on Blowie, still perched against Jayce’s waist.

 

Jayce didn’t need to be told twice.

 

Broad, sweat-slicked pectorals, soft yet undeniably firm, pressed with immediacy against his face. Heat radiated from every inch of the enveloping curves and it was luring Viktor to melt into it. The scent of steel and salt filled his head, muffling any coherent thoughts and substituting them with nothing but timid–albeit primal–satisfaction. For the briefest of embraces, Viktor's head was engulfed in endless, warm skin and he was drowning, drowning, drowning in it.

 

Against his very nature, against everything he had believed about himself until now, Viktor was surrounded by another’s touch and the only feelings roaming within were those of peace, and safety, and familiarity. He would have suffocated in it with a smile.

 

Shit.

 

The moment Jayce pulled back, Viktor released his breath. He whirled and strutted into the back of the room. 

 

“I'll be back!” He called over his shoulder. 

 

Viktor stared after him for a long moment. He fought the urge to brush his fingers against his cheek, to the heat still lingering there.

 

Viktor was calibrating the underlying musk he'd felt pressed against his face. The damp fabric against his cheek. The enthusiastic curling of Jayce’s head, pressing against the top of his own.

 

He blinked.

 

No more hugs from Jayce while he's at the smithy, Viktor chastised into the confines of his own mind, settling his face mask anew.

 

Viktor cursed under his breath, aware that he was truly pissing himself off, inwardly acting like a school-boy around his closest friend. It was beyond absurd and it was in these moments that Viktor missed the past version of himself that had been proficient in cutting himself off emotionally.

 

But then, with impressive ease and a swift sideways motion, Jayce peeled off his t-shirt. 

 

With a one-handed tug, he slid it over his head seamlessly.

 

Teeth clenched in an attempt to keep his jaw from dropping. 

 

My.

 

Viktor thought of how long it could sometimes take him to put on or remove any item of clothing. 

 

A small part of him was envious of Jayce’s dexterity, of what that freedom must feel like.

 

A bigger part was turned the fuck on . 

 

Which was extremely inconvenient.

 

Casually , Viktor placed his hands above his lap and took deep, measured breaths. 

 

How could another person be so attractive? Viktor had half a mind to be infuriated by it. He hadn’t asked for his brain and body to react this way, to be so thoroughly and involuntarily affected. 

 

No one had ever gotten these kinds of responses out of him, especially over such trivial nonsense. This neediness, this clutching want that was so easily triggered seemed to be breathing down his neck, inching closer to the surface with each passing day. 

 

It was an unfortunate consequence of letting his soul roam free during his last months on this earth. Under any other circumstances, Viktor was certain he would have suffocated it long ago.

 

Naturally, Viktor chose to blame Jayce for the whole ordeal. Especially considering the fact that his weary body had decided that being in Jayce’s vicinity was the one exception to springing to life.

 

Viktor stole a glance at the lone cog, abandoned on the surface beside him. The one that had been causing such ruckus inside their invention. 

 

Without much thought, Viktor’s fingers reached for it and tucked it into the pocket of his pants. 

 

He continued to observe Jayce at work, and time flew despite the fact that he was merely standing still. 

 

When the Cher song finally started playing, Viktor noted that Jayce didn’t quite catch on to the change of ambiance at first. But once her unmistakable voice began to blare from the speakers, Jayce paused what he was doing and frowned at the source of the sound. 

 

The moment understanding hit him, he lurched his head toward Viktor, who already adorned a quiet smile on his face as he watched him. Even from afar, his grin was contagious. 

 

To Viktor’s surprise, Jayce raised his arms, Damascus steel hammer in one hand, and looked up at the skies as he sang the famous chorus with abandon. 

 

It was as if Viktor was witnessing Jayce in his very essence, utterly free. He quietly chuckled and failed to temper the affectionate shake of his head. 

 

Viktor’s gift was turned into an impromptu microphone for a couple of verses before Jayce returned to the task at hand, his lightness and joviality ever so lively.

 

What an idiot.

 

After a long while, Jayce at last approached him, his shirt thrown back on, broad grin intact.

 

Viktor’s gaze flickered to the Damascus steel hammer hooked onto his belt loop. He tilted his chin toward it. “I hope it’s treating you well.” 

 

“The best." The crinkles around his eyes sprouted like veins of joy.

 

A silent comfort settled within Viktor. After a moment, and noticing the fact that Jayce was once again carrying Blowie, he asked, “Satisfied?” 

 

He shrugged, a hint of smugness in the gesture. “As I’ll ever be.” 

 

Viktor nodded, retrieving his crutch to stand. As soon as his foot took the brunt of his weight, a spike of pain travelled up his leg. “Onwards, then.” 

 

As they strode toward the exit, Jayce switched off the machinery and any lights in passing, and Viktor disposed of his mask. Eventually, Jayce wondered, “You good?” 

 

Viktor was pensive for a moment, searching for the right words to express the reason why he was silent. “I think I finally understand why you enjoy watching me work.”

 

Jayce turned suddenly coy. “Yeah?” 

 

“It was quite mesmerising to see you in your element,” Viktor confessed in a quiet voice. And impertinent thoughts aside, the steady clank of hammer on metal mixed with Brazilian phonk, the warm lights, the scent of metal and fire, Jayce’s confident, fluid movements– it had lulled Viktor into a kind of trance. 

 

Jayce snickered and, without warning, threw an arm over Viktor’s shoulders, petulantly ruffling his hair. It was always a revelation to find that he welcomed that extra weight, despite knowing better for himself. “That’s because you’re still half-asleep, silly.” Jayce gave one last playful tousle before stepping away to lock up behind them.

 

A voice called out. “Wait up!”

 

A young man trotted toward Jayce, lean in figure, blonde hair tied in one thick braid that reached his elbow.

 

Jayce glanced over his shoulder and recognition filtered his gaze. “Oh, hi Gio! Heading in?” 

 

“Yes,” he panted. His gaze fell on Viktor and a smile curved on his mouth. He extended his hand and Viktor stared at it for a moment before shaking it in return.

 

“And who might you be?” 

 

“This is Viktor, my partner.” 

 

It wasn’t lost on Viktor how every single person misinterpreted the meaning behind those words. Viktor didn’t particularly mind. 

 

“Hello, Viktor.”

 

“Hello.” 

 

“You–”

 

“Sorry, Gio,” Jayce interrupted, gripping Viktor’s shoulders and gently steering him forward. Viktor allowed himself to be herded away, catching Gio’s surprised blink over his upper arm. “We gotta run. But have a great day!” 

 

A few parting words were exchanged, but Viktor barely caught them, too focused on Jayce’s sudden hurry.

 

They walked in silence for a beat before Jayce caved. “He’s into you,” he murmured.

 

Viktor scoffed. 

 

As if that mattered to him in the slightest. 

 

When Viktor raised his eyes to find some semblance of explanation behind the topic of conversation, he found an amused little smile playing on Jayce’s lips. “I told you I would point them out to you. Just keeping my word.” 

 

Viktor smirked. “Should I go back and get his number, then?” 

 

Jayce huffed in clear disinterest. “I’ll give it to you later.” 

 

Viktor arched his brows, surprised by the serious tone in Jayce’s response. Hopefully, he would forget the joke altogether.

 

As they reached Meni’s car, Jayce spoke again. “Thanks for your input. And your company. It helped a lot, believe it or not.” 

 

Viktor raised a brow over the car roof as he pulled the passenger door with some effort. “Why wouldn't I believe it?” 

 

Jayce rolled his eyes, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He stashed Blowie in the back seat before opening the driver’s side. “Sorry. Had a lapse in judgment and momentarily forgot who I was talking to.”

 

Before Viktor could get fully settled, Jayce abandoned his open door and circled the front of the car to take Viktor’s crutch. There was an expected slam as he tucked it in the back as well, and then Jayce was fidgeting with Viktor’s door, standing on the pavement as he stared at his shifting feet. “All I know is– you were there. And it helped.” 

 

Viktor tilted his lips up at him, genuinely this time. “I'm glad.” 

 

Jayce exhaled, his own smile breaking free before he carefully shut the passenger door. Once inside the car, he turned the key in the ignition and flashed Viktor a devilish grin.  “Now let's go test our infuriating bitch of a child– excuse my french.” 

 

“Ah, yes,” Viktor mused jokingly, staring ahead with a loop-sided smile. “Father of the year.”

///

“Okay, let’s see… Hey, future me! This is past you. This is the video for the academy report, the speed-up thingy you wanted to do.”

 

Jayce was setting his phone against Viktor's table, facing the chamber where Blowie was being tested. 

 

He'd asked Viktor if he minded that he was recording, to which he said no– considering he didn't really move from behind his desk. There was zero to little chance he'd appear on screen. 

 

“Alright,” Jayce breathed out, straightening and resting his hands on his hips, staring at his camera placement as if he'd done a proud day's work. “I think it's centered. What do you think?” 

 

Viktor stole a quick glance before telling him it was fine. 

 

Jayce plopped down in his seat, propping his feet up and leaning back on his chair, as per usual.  He lifted his arms and stretched them skyward with a groan before resting them behind his head.

 

After showering in the Academy locker room and changing into a dark green shirt, Jayce had made the effort to roll up the sleeves, which only accentuated the lean strength of his flexing biceps. The clothing made his own green eyes stand out, while the fabric clung just enough to trace the quiet movements of every muscle hidden within. 

 

Despite the slight torture, there was a flicker of pride and amusement within Viktor upon seeing Jayce in Zaun's colors. He wondered if he was aware. 

 

Viktor gave him an assuring glance. “Ready?”

 

Jayce started enumerating with his fingers. “Safety measures?” 

 

“In place.”

 

“Infectants?” 

 

“Spread.” 

 

“Pollution?” 

 

“All seven types, released.”

 

“Blowie?” 

 

“Connected.” 

 

Jayce sighed. “Alright. Let’s get started.” 

 

With the press of a button on Viktor’s keyboard, Blowie turned on and began to function. 

 

“And now, we wait.” 

 

Viktor nodded. “And now, we wait.”  

 

He couldn’t help but steal a glance at his friend, who was nervously watching the contraption slowly come to life. Viktor felt himself soften. “It's going to work, Jayce,” he assured in a low voice. “If not today, tomorrow. If not tomorrow, the day after, or the day after that.”

 

There was a pause.

 

“And if it doesn't?” 

 

“We will figure it out,” Viktor assured with a tender tug of his lips. “As we always do.” 

 

Jayce nodded. “You’re right– of course, you’re right.” Yet, his vacant stare was pinned on Viktor’s chest. Viktor’s brows met in the middle and he found this to be the perfect moment to inquire about this recent development in Jayce’s attention. 

 

“Are you going to tell me why you keep staring at me?” 

 

Jayce raised his focus to Viktor’s eyes and blinked, clearly startled by the question. “Sorry,” he rushed to say, swallowing and returning his focus to their machine. 

 

Viktor exhaled quietly and softened his tone. “Jayce,” he insisted, his tone speaking for itself– Viktor was not one to play games.

 

Jayce breathed in loudly as his gaze slid back again. “Your sweater,” he began. “There’s something about it that I can’t quite place.”

 

Viktor looked down at himself and realized what he was referring to. 

 

“Oh.” 

 

The oversized honeyed jumper was soft on Viktor’s skin, filling him with warmth and comfort. The wide neckline slipped off his shoulder, exposing a sliver of skin to the cool air. He adjusted it back.

 

“It was a gift from your mum– for Christmas,” he confessed quietly. “I believe it was your father’s.” 

 

A soft o shaped his mouth, lips parting in stumbled understanding. Viktor felt as if he was intruding, all of a sudden. He sat up in his chair. 

 

“Is that… okay?” 

 

Jayce released an amused little huff. “Of course,” he replied earnestly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. His gaze flickered back to the garment. Lingered. “Looks… looks good.”

 

Viktor returned the gesture. “Thank you.” And then to diffuse any lingering tension, he added, “I’m going to assume your progenitor was the size of a giant, just like you.” 

 

Jayce chuckled softly. “You could say that.” Then a mischievous spark entered his demeanor. “Maybe you’re just tiny, have you ever considered that ?” 

 

Viktor offered him a deadpan expression. “Jayce. You’re one meter eighty-eight centimeters tall. You’re colossal.” 

 

His brows furrowed but the smirk remained, now showcasing slight confusion. “How in the hell did you guess that?” 

 

Viktor shrugged. “I have my ways.” 

 

Jayce snorted. “Go on.” When Viktor didn’t elaborate, Jayce’s lower lip jutted out in a near-pout. “Tell me.”

 

Viktor asked his own heart to still as silence curled comfortably between them. 

 

With one last fleeting glance at that protruding lower lip, he rolled his eyes.

 

“Your mum may or may not have told me about your overnight growth spurt when you were a child.”

 

Jayce stared for a moment and then tilted his head back, groaning. He shook his head. “One day, I'm going to join one of these damned dinners. Classified information is being passed around without my knowledge, and it will not stand.” 

 

Viktor smirked. “And how will you make it sit?” 

 

Jayce snorted. “Unless there's someone from your childhood I can pester for information, this is a highly disadvantageous situation.” 

 

Viktor snickered. “I will admit, I am still eagerly waiting to see pictures of when you were small and round.” 

 

Jayce grinned. “Of those, there are plenty.” 

 

Viktor could not say the same thing. There wasn't a single person from his childhood that he was remotely interested in reaching out to.

 

Or anyone who would hold any remembrance of him. 

 

He was the sole keeper of his existence.

 

There was a lull before he shared in a quiet tone, “You know you can ask me anything, right?” 

 

The mask slightly dropped and Jayce’s expression softened. There was a ghost of a smile on his mouth when he replied in a low voice, “I know.” 

 

The tenderness of the gesture caused Viktor to find refuge in a more prevalent dynamic. “What am I even saying,” he blurted out with a scoff. “Your interrogations are relentless.” 

 

Jayce inhaled proudly, resting his elbows on the back support of his chair. “Now, now, V. You can't go back on your word, you just said anything. ” 

 

“As if you'd held back at any point,” Viktor retorted.

 

“As a matter of fact, I have.” 

 

“You have?” Jayce was nodding enthusiastically, all too full of himself. Viktor let out an exaggerated sigh as he looked longingly at his monitor. “Lord, grant me mercy.” 

 

“No lord can grant you anything now,” he warned with an impish tone. “It’s just us in here.” 

 

Viktor paused for a moment before saying with a tinge of curiosity, “You know, when I was a child, for three consecutive years I considered a rock my closest friend. And as I sit here, in this moment, with you–” Viktor did his best to keep his expression serene as he turned to look at Jayce. “I miss it.” 

 

A cackle burst out of Jayce, and Viktor couldn't help but marvel at the stunning sound. It was so vivid and loud .

 

"First of all, fuck you,” he confidently stated, his voice cracking with mirth. “Second of all, get outta’ here." 

 

The smile had won the battle in Viktor's mouth. "It's true. It was shaped like a golem and it helped me with my integrals– which is far more than I can say for you." 

 

Jayce’s laughter continued to echo inside the lab, flooding Viktor with a cosy sensation.

 

Viktor was beginning to realize that these conversations with Jayce were the only memoir he would leave behind. Fragments of a life he’d never expected anyone else to know about, except now he had nothing to be scared of, no future to protect. 

 

It was a complete novelty to be sharing such personal details about his upbringing. Vulnerabilities he would have never thought he’d be inclined to disclose, especially considering the fact that he hadn’t found the context for which such confessions to be relevant in the first place. 

 

Viktor had never offered to be known. Not like this.  

 

This kind of intimacy ruthlessly stripped off any lingering filters, any useless walls, unveiling nothing but naked trust. 

 

And at long last, it didn't feel so appalling.

 

Trust in comfort, trust in intention. In connection. In truth and in unjudging consideration. In allowing the other person to hold up a mirror and accept their invitation to step into the light. Something that had always seemed utterly horrifying to Viktor. 

 

Except with Jayce, he didn’t feel the discomfort of unwanted attention, prickling his skin. He didn’t feel the burn behind his eyes from the blinding glare of the spotlight. With Jayce, he simply felt its warmth.

 

"Did this friend have a name?" 

 

Viktor snorted, reigning in his emotions to return to the present moment. He was quiet for a beat before he amusedly admitted, "You'll be relentless about it." 

 

Jayce gasped, hand to heart. "You can't say that and not share." 

 

“And what do I get in return?” 

 

Jayce rolled his eyes. “My eternal gratitude,” he said sarcastically. 

 

Viktor made a soft, high-pitched hum. “I think I will pass.” 

 

Jayce shook his head, comically offended. “You don’t want my gratitude?” 

 

“What use is your gratitude to me?” 

 

“Preposterously rude,” he accused with a glint in his eye. “Fine. What do you want?” 

 

“An exchange of information seems adequate.”

 

Jayce narrowed his eyes. “And what does that mean, exactly?” 

 

“I told you about my first time.” Viktor made an explicative gesture with his hand. “I’d assume it’s only fair.” 

 

A surprised, infectious smile bloomed in his lips. “You know, I think this might be the first time you’ve–very convolutedly I might add–asked me a proper personal question.” 

 

Ah, Viktor was back on the spot again. Devil incarnate. 

 

“So?” Viktor invited, completely ignoring Jayce’s shared observation. 

 

“Fair enough,” he conceded with a nod. “But there’s not much excitement to share. It was with a girlfriend I had in my first year of college.” 

 

“Why did you break up?” Viktor asked, letting his curiosity roam free. 

 

“There were all these things I was supposed to do or supposed to say that I never got right. I think we ended up driving each other a little mad. We were also both very lost.” 

 

Viktor nodded, trying to make sense of such a connection. “Did you enjoy your experience?” 

 

“I guess,” he shrugged.

 

When Viktor didn’t respond, Jayce moved his eyes from Blowie to glance in his direction, only to find a questioning eyebrow waiting for him. 

 

He snickered. “I just don’t fully get it, to be honest.” 

 

“What?” 

 

“Sex.” 

 

“Oh?”

 

“Don’t get me wrong, it feels good. Yeah, it feels amazing. But…”

 

Jayce trailed off and Viktor let him piece his thoughts together. He kept his soft peer on him, steady for Jayce to come back to whenever he felt ready. 

 

“I don’t know. I think the idea of sex feels better than the actual thing.” 

 

Viktor hummed. “Could it be that you simply haven’t had… good sex?” 

 

Jayce looked at him, curious. “Have you?” 

 

“I’d like to think so, but it’s completely subjective to each person. Have you considered being ace?” 

 

“The thought’s crossed my mind,” he admitted quietly. “But it doesn’t resonate. It’s more like I have this thing inside, yet no idea how to properly awaken it. I can feel it coming to the surface sometimes, but usually when I’m alone.” 

 

“It’s interesting you should say that, considering what you mentioned yesterday. About connection,” Viktor mused.  

 

Jayce cocked his head, deep in thought. “You know what? You’re right. That’s a strange paradox.” 

 

“Have you ever felt that thing around others?” 

 

Jayce was silent for a while, and Viktor waited patiently. He had nowhere else to be. Nowhere else he wanted to be, for all that matter. 

 

“Yes,” he finally said in a breathy tone. “But I’m realising now it usually fizzles out pretty quickly. As if reality somehow didn’t live up to my imagination. What starts with feeling good often ends up turning into a chore.” Then he grimaced. “That sounded terrible.” 

 

“Doesn’t matter how it sounds if it feels true. There’s no one here who could feel hurt by your words, do not concern yourself,” Viktor assured with a certain softness. “Why a chore?” 

 

He sighed, realization clicking in his mind. “Because it often feels like they’re trying to scratch an itch with me. I could be arguably anyone. And that turns me off.” 

 

_ _ _

Viktor slowly raised his forearm, elbow leaning on this desk, and snapped his fingers once. “Bam.” 

 

For some reason, that made Jayce burst into laughter. “Bam?" 

 

Viktor was beaming. “Yes. Or, ding-ding-ding, ” he sang in a low voice, a personal satisfaction clear in his tone. “Do with that information what you will, but it feels pertinent to you.” 

 

“What, exactly?” Jayce asked in earnest. 

 

“That there’s a particular way in which you’d like to be considered.” Viktor gave him a look. "That maybe that's part of the connection you seek."

 

He blew a raspberry. “It sucks that I don’t entirely understand which way that is, yet. Makes everything harder.” 

 

“Therein lies the key word. Yet. ” Viktor gave him a warm smile. “You know more today than you did yesterday. That’s a win.” 

 

Deep down, Viktor was right and Jayce didn’t have to unleash an extensive expedition inside himself to make sense of it. 

 

Jayce just wanted to be chosen, in turn. He wanted his presence to make a difference, he longed for whatever attention he earned to be deserved. Not because of his looks or his charms, but because of who he was. It was so often freely given to him that it stripped him of the satisfaction of knowing that not everyone could be grazed with such an offer. That he, too, was exceptional. 

 

Jayce needed his partners to search for his connection, right back.

 

Nothing made Jayce feel emptier than the idea that he could be easily replaced. To be just one more.

 

Despite that being something he could not entirely control. 

 

How did this translate to sex? He wasn’t sure. But maybe that was a part of himself he could consciously explore moving forward. 

 

Jayce stared at Viktor, eyes slitted, and the influx of affection for the man who had so easily, once again, helped him voice part of himself utterly overwhelmed him. “Are you a mind whisperer, by any chance?”

 

Viktor’s lips twitched as he glanced at the ceiling in thought, letting out a breathy thrum. “Not that I know of.” A devilish smirk then, dancing eyes settling on Jayce anew. "Why? Does your mind feel whispered to?" 

 

The sudden impact of that keen focus made Jayce want to change the subject entirely. He chuckled, attempting to conceal a random–and wholly unexpected–nervousness. “I’ve done my part. Now you have to tell me the name of your rock best friend.” 

 

A small groan broke out of him, mischief evaporated. He side-eyed Jayce before he grumbled out a name. 

 

Silence fell between them. 

 

Jayce was fighting his smile, but his traitorous lip quivered upward.

 

“Watch yourself,” Viktor warned, despite the clear glee underlying his now studious expression.

 

Jayce embodied innocence in a blink. “I didn't say anything!”

 

“Your mind is just as obnoxiously loud.” 

 

“All I will say is that you continue to confirm that you should be nowhere near in charge of any names given to our future inventions.” 

 

A fleeting sentiment crossed over Viktor’s expression, but then he swiftly added, “Because Blowie is so much better.” 

 

“I'll remind you, that name came to me by adopting your mentality.” 

 

“If that helps you sleep at night, I suppose.”

 

The conversation naturally died down, but the quiet was just as easy. Jayce returned to his sketching, the graze of graphite on paper the only sound besides the natural hums of a lab.

 

Eventually, Jayce mentioned with a shake of his head, “I can't believe you'd prefer a rock to me .” 

 

Viktor was smirking, his expression lit by the white light of his screen.

 

“Any day.” 

 

Then, he added, “If it serves as any consolation, you're equally as hard-headed.” 

 

Jayce’s smile widened. “You'd know.” 

 

Time was spent in playful, sporadic conversations that sprouted between long stretches of comfortable silence.

 

Viktor was furrowing his brows when Jayce looked up from his book, over an hour later, his own eyebrow slightly arched. “What?”

 

“Do you hear that?” Viktor asked, voice full of intrigue. 

 

Jayce sharpened his stellar listening skills. “No,” he admitted. 

 

Viktor’s lips stretched upward as he flashed Jayce an electric look. “ Exactly.” 

 

Jayce’s own face scrunched in confusion before he understood what Viktor was talking about. 

 

He hadn’t realised– Blowie had been working silently. 

 

“It… Stabilised,” ground out Viktor. 

 

The silence in the room was suddenly deafening. 

 

Jayce stared and stared, slowly setting his book down and coming to a stand in order to inspect the machine from a closer angle. Could it have stopped working? 

 

“Are… Are you certain?” His mouth had gone dry, and even though he was attempting to swallow, nothing was coming or going. He could feel his heartbeat in his neck, in his eyes, in his eardrums. A naïve, hopeful anthem chanting in his veins, building and building. 

 

“Render complete.”  

 

Green light flooded the room. 

 

The entirety of the world stopped. 

 

Jayce stood petrified, his heart hammering so violently it threatened to crack his ribs, louder than it had ever been. “V?” He could hear his voice but did not recognise it; the tightness in his throat was crushing his windpipe in stupefaction and strangling his vocal cords. 

 

Viktor had pushed into a stand himself, eyes wide and jaw slack. It was the only show of unfiltered disbelief that Jayce had ever seen on his partner's expression. His hand was turning white from gripping his crutch. 

 

“It’s real,” he rasped as his eyes furtively roamed over his screen, furious clicks of his mouse as he glanced at the bulb and then, back to the data presented in his monitor. “It’s real, Jayce.”  

 

At last, Viktor’s beautiful amber eyes slid to his own, completely overtaken by emotion. A faint, breathless smile blossomed on Viktor’s lips. “It’s a hundred percent.”

 

Euphoria burst inside his chest, travelling through his body with the speed of light and igniting every single nerve ending on fire. Whatever composure Jayce had been holding onto crumbled beneath juvenile screams of joy and electric jumps of ecstasy. 

 

He whooped and bellowed, “No fucking way! V! ” 

 

His partner had fossilized and turned a yellowish color, his widened eyes fixed on the bright bulb as if Viktor were expecting it to disappear.

 

The rush of excitement was so blinding and engulfing that Jayce jumped on Viktor, circling his legs with attention to his lesions and gracefully hoisted him upwards towards his chest, a solid hand pressing against his lower back. Viktor gasped, standing so far from the ground in Jayce's embrace, crutch abandoned with a clank on the floor. 

 

Jayce could tell he was immediately mortified. But he didn't care, not today, as he howled and screamed, bolting around the lab with Viktor bobbing on top of him, his weight solid and familiar in Jayce’s arms. 

 

“V! We did it, we did it! Can you believe it?!” More yells followed and genuine laughter rippled out of Viktor. It was rich, warm, surprised, real– echoing around them as if they’d found themselves in paradise. The sounds sent a wave of electricity through Jayce, sparking higher, hotter– utterly addicting. 

 

“Put me down in this instance, you brute!” Viktor scolded with an uncontrollably broad smile, hands braced on Jayce’s shoulders as he gazed down at him, eyes twinkling. 

 

“WE DID IT, V!” Jayce was twirling them in place, going in circles with nothing but profound, unadulterated joy. The elation continued to escape from Viktor, surging from his chest and fleeing his throat like rich velvet, and Jayce wanted to get drunk on it. A sound so wonderful and giddy, a sound so contagious he couldn't help but join its merriment. It was unfiltered and happy – a loosened melody Jayce had never heard before. One he hadn’t even known Viktor kept inside himself.

 

It was the most beautiful sound in the whole wide world. It filled the room with color. 

 

He felt a sense of privilege to witness Viktor like this, let alone bathe directly under his glorious delight.

 

Eventually, he slowed, breath coming fast, heart still restlessly thumping. He tilted his head back, staring and grinning at his partner like never before. The blinding light was directly beside them, shining through the space between them, coating their entire surroundings in shades of spring. Half of Viktor's intoxicating expression was painted emerald, illuminating every flushed curve, every breathless detail, and Jayce was having an out-of-body experience simply perceiving him like this.

 

Time stretched, lingered, relented– holding this moment in suspension, as if the universe itself understood its significance.

 

“Isn't green the most beautiful color you've ever seen?” Jayce murmured, awestruck, that impossibly wide smile still etched in his face. 

 

As Viktor peered into Jayce’s eyes, his features changed.

 

His gaze softened, something deep settling behind his expression– something raw and new and all-consuming. It was a look that sent Jayce’s pulse stuttering, a look so profound it made him momentarily wonder if he was being perceived by a deity, one that could so effortlessly see through him. 

 

He could only stare back, utterly lost in it.

 

Utterly found in it.

 

The world fell away as Jayce drowned in molten, shining gold. 

 

In that split second, all that existed was them.

 

Jayce had spent his entire life secretly chasing greatness, searching for his purpose. But here, in this single, breath-stealing instant, he realized–

 

He was exactly where he was meant to be. He was doing precisely what he’d been born to do.

 

And in that moment, it struck him that he was undoubtedly doing it with the person he'd been destined to do it with. It was as if everything in his life had been a relentless build-up to meet Viktor– every decision, every challenge, every misstep had led him here, laying the groundwork for this life-changing event.

 

Viktor was no longer ashen, he was flushed and vibrant and so alive . His cheeks had turned a shade of wondrous pink and it only made Jayce smile all the wider. 

 

“Yes,” Viktor whispered, in a daze. His mouth was curved in the softest of smiles. “Yes, it is.”

 

Jayce felt Viktor’s hand graze the side of his neck, tentative– fingertips ghosting over his skin, his ear slipping between Viktor’s uncertain fingers. Closing his eyes, Jayce instinctively leaned into the cool touch. 

 

Viktor’s thumb wavered, trembling before it settled, tenderly brushing against the skin just beyond his ear. Once. Twice.

 

When Jayce fluttered his eyes open, Viktor’s were still locked onto him, careful and awed and wired.

 

He cleared his throat before amusedly asking, “Could you return me to my usual line of eyesight, please? This height is giving me vertigo.” 

 

Jayce chuckled as he approached Viktor’s workspace. Slowly, he deposited Viktor back onto his chair, quickly reaching for his crutch on the floor before passing it to him.  

 

Viktor leaned forward and analysed the results once more. A warm smile was permanently printed on his lips. 

 

“Should we do it again?” Jayce asked, his voice low, manic with exhilaration. “Make sure it’s not a fluke?” 

 

Viktor leaned in, his eyes still flaring with adrenaline. “Abso-fucking-lutely.” 

 

So they did. They re-polluted the chamber and waited–two and a half long hours–until, once again, the bulb flicked green.

 

Jayce let out a breathless laugh. “Congratulations, V. It’s no longer hypothetical. It’s an invention.”

 

Viktor’s smile was slow and discreet, tired eyes glinting with recognition– a callback to the very first day they’d met.

 

Jayce, equally drained, slumped further into his seat, his gaze fixed on the glowing bulb, mesmerized.

 

“I can't believe it,” he admitted, still staring at the contraption that was about to change reality for many. 

 

“I can,” said the stubborn man who’d never doubted Jayce for a second. His chest tightened. 

 

Viktor absentmindedly smoothed down his clothes, pressing out the wrinkles left in the wake of Jayce’s chaos.

 

Drawn by an invisible thread and despite the evident drain in energy, Jayce rose to his feet, still riding the emotional high of the moment. He was helpless to ruffle Viktor's hair and undo his efforts to further annoy him.

 

A sharp breath escaped through his nose. “If you had told me you'd become even more insupportable as time went on, I would have stayed far away,” Viktor deadpanned, looking completely disheveled but not making any new efforts to fix it anymore. Yet his eyes… His eyes were still glistening honey. 

 

Jayce couldn't stop grinning. He wondered if he'd stop at any point. 

 

“This is a fantastic look on you,” he snickered. “A little out of control.” 

 

His partner glared.

 

“If I’m not mistaken,” drawled Jayce, giving him an impish look. “I think there’s a bottle of whiskey with our name on it back in the lab.” 

 

Viktor’s expression lit up. “There is, indeed.” 

 

“Let’s wrap up here and get fucked up?” 

 

Viktor smirked. “Let’s.” 

 

Once in their usual, private lab, Jayce reached for his lower cabinet, where he’d stashed the bottle Viktor had offered him the day before.

 

He approached his partner, opened the bottle and offered it to him. 

 

“I believe this deserves a proper toast,” Viktor mused as he delicately gripped it, turning the bottle and reading the label with interest. “Would you prefer something–” 

 

“Yes,” Jayce interrupted with a breathy voice. “Just– yes.” 

 

Viktor sniggered for a moment as he tilted his head in thought. 

 

“ What good amid these, O me? O life?,” he recited.

 

Viktor's eyes softened as he turned to him, his smile beaming. Jayce found himself enraptured by its shape, basking in its warmth. Viktor lifted the bottle in his direction. 

 

“ That you are here– that life exists and identity,

That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.” 

 

“To contributing a verse,” Jayce echoed, still wondering if this moment was at all real. Especially after a cosy sensation spread in his chest at the uttered, famous words, in Viktor’s stunning accent.

 

Viktor tilted the bottle to his lips and began to gulp. One, two, three–

 

“Holy shit,” Jayce whispered. Viktor pulled on the sleeve of his amber jumper and rubbed it against his glistening lips. He passed the whiskey back to Jayce, a devilish smirk winking into existence. 

 

“You Pilties don't know the first thing about holding your liquor. Allow me to demonstrate.” 

///

Jayce was sprawled on the floor and Viktor was slumped down in his chair. The bottle had rolled under Jayce's desk at some point, empty and forgotten. Viktor could hear Jayce mumbling to himself, humming even. 

 

“What's that?” Viktor wondered, the effects of the alcohol further lulling him into a state of pure bliss. 

 

“Hm? Oh. I don't know, actually. But this song replays over and over in my head. And it's always the same part.” 

 

“Which goes…?” 

 

Without a second thought, Jayce began to sing. Viktor smiled to himself because it sounded absolutely dreadful. Inebriated Jayce truly had no inhibitions, and Viktor relished the fact. It was quite inconceivable, to meet someone so completely filterless, so painfully genuine and authentic that Viktor couldn’t help but adore him. 

 

Today had been one of the best days of his life. And he had Jayce to thank– his elation was so infectious, so boundless, that it swept up anyone lucky enough to be near it. Literally.

 

Viktor had never experienced such joy before. 

 

What a privilege to have witnessed it. To have felt it.

 

To have lived it. 

 

He chuckled at the pitchy string of sounds coming out of Jayce’s mouth. 

 

“Don't laugh at me,” Jayce whined. “It just goes round and round– it's excruciating.’

 

“I second that. Do you think if anyone hears you from the hall, they'll assume a cat is dying in here?” 

 

Viktor heard the rustling of clothes as someone sat up.

 

“I can't believe you just said that.”

 

A giggle bubbled out of him at Jayce’s tone of amused offense. “Does it hurt to be confronted with reality? Please, do not stop on my account. By all means.”

 

There was a dramatic sigh. “I feel utterly unappreciated for my talents.” 

 

Viktor’s head was unbearably heavy, so he let it dangle over the back of his chair. Both elbows rested on the back support, one leg stretched lazily away while the other bent at an odd angle, pointing in the opposite direction. His limbs had found that precarious sweet spot of comfort– one that shouldn’t work, yet somehow did. Even so, the open space of the lab carried a draft, skimming over his exposed torso and sending a shiver down his spine. He felt it, but lacked the energy to move or remedy it.

 

“I'd say you appreciate your talents enough for the both of us.” More rustling sounds. And Viktor didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the victory, but he allowed himself to admit, “Besides, I think it's clear I appreciate your talents plenty.”

 

The words had barely left him when a wall of heat pressed between his legs. 

 

Viktor jolted, his head snapping up despite its heavy weight, only to find Jayce sprawled on his lap. 

 

“W-what are you doing?” 

 

Jayce was sitting on the floor still, yet his torso was lunged on top and between Viktor's thighs. His eyes were closed, and he seemed so at peace with his choice. His scorching palms were plastered against the side of Viktor's upper legs. 

 

“You were cold.” 

 

And Viktor shouldn't, shouldn't, shouldn't . But the heat seeped through his skin with unrelenting purpose, straight to the marrow, and a sense of home and relief and protection flooded every atom and particle of his being. 

 

He shoved away the image of Jayce somewhat kneeling between his legs, between his legs, betweenhislegs. Viktor reminded himself to start breathing again as he let his head loll backwards once more. 

 

He sighed deeply. 

 

“You feel like a furnace,” Viktor stated, matter-of-factly.

 

“You feel like my dream,” Jayce answered back, effortlessly.

 

The words collided inside him, and Viktor was rendered speechless. 

 

He swallowed the lump in his throat.

 

“And what does that entail, should I dare ask?”

 

“I ont’ know,” Jayce slurred. Viktor shouldn't have found it as cute as he did . “But, like– my dream feels one way, right? All of my life, one way. And now you're here. And now you feel just like that. Like I can't live my dream now if you're not there to live it with me, you know? The two are one, one are two, badabim badaboom.” 

 

Viktor gave him a hearty laugh. “How on earth can you range from impeccable presence to the poet of nonsense whenever you drink?” 

 

Jayce snickered. “Nothing sounds more tedious than having impeccable presence in your company.” 

 

A genuine smile unfurled on Viktor's face. “That's an extraordinary compliment.” 

 

Jayce made a low sound, lazy and fond. “You always understand me, anyway. I don't feel the need to be put together around you.”

 

“I'm starting to wonder if you should .” 

 

Jayce snorted. His large fingers flexed around Viktor’s thighs– just once, a brief squeeze, causing further warmth to bloom through Viktor’s system like an ember catching fire. “Asshole,” Jayce muttered, his soft smile evident by tone alone. 

 

Viktor was smiling also, but at the ceiling. He retraced their conversation in his head. “You're referring to your dream of making a difference, no?” 

 

“ Our dream of making a difference.” 

 

Viktor hummed in agreement. He made a note in his brain to analyse this conversation once he was sober. Analysing anything at present time seemed extremely difficult and somewhat counterproductive. And he’d also kind of forgotten what he was supposed to be analysing, in the first place. What he could account for was how Jayce was further melting in his lap. 

 

“That feels so nice,” Jayce groaned. Viktor froze for a moment, a quick body check up following suit. His hand was enveloped in unknown territory, somewhere warm and slick. Tendrils everywhere. He realized then that he’d been drawing circular movements against Jayce's scalp. “Don’t stop.” 

 

And so his digits resumed, memories of his hospital stay flickering in his mind. Memories of Jayce offering his heat, in any and every way he could think of. This wonderful man.

 

Viktor refused to overthink this. He was going to let it be. For one night, he just wanted to be boundless, too. 

 

Viktor wasn't sure if he'd actually uttered the words, or if the sentiment merely emanated from within, ringing undeniably true. 

 

You feel like my dream, too.

 

It was clear to Viktor now– his life's purpose had not only been about creating an invention such as Blowie.

 

It had been about meeting Jayce, just the same.

///

"So, where exactly are we going?" Jayce wondered aloud. 

 

After telling Meni about their success, she'd taken it upon herself to share the news with every person she came into contact with.

 

And that had included Caitlyn– Jayce's sister. 

 

After many congratulations and whatnot, they'd decided to have a night out in proper celebration. The location, however, remained a mystery. 

 

Viktor had half a mind to be concerned, considering it was Vi the one leading the way through the streets of Zaun.

 

They'd met on several occasions now, and surprisingly, Viktor found their company to be quite pleasant to be around.

 

Regardless of the fact, he hadn't wanted to come tonight. As always, the weight of his body was pulling him down and begging him to stay put. 

 

But this was one of those rare situations where staying in bed was not going to improve a thing. It would just mean that Viktor would be confined to his mattress, only to have the same urge the day after, and then the day after that, as well as the day after that. 

 

Yes, he was drained– but that was not going to change. If anything, it would simply worsen.

 

Viktor did not want to miss out during his last months. He'd have plenty of time to rest, soon enough. And he mostly wanted to enjoy every second spent with Jayce. 

 

Ergo, why he'd agreed to join an eerily ambiguous invitation to an undisclosed location. 

 

"You'll see," Vi assured, hands tucked inside the pockets of her leather jacket. 

 

"I think I'd much rather know now," Caitlyn complained under her breath. 

 

Jayce was nodding in agreement.

 

"Always so impatient, cupcake,” she smirked over her shoulder. “Haven't you heard that good things come to those who wait?" 

 

"I'm fairly certain good things also come to those who don't wait around to find out." 

 

Vi chuckled, sauntering ahead of the group with an impressed tilt to her head. 

 

Viktor watched how Jayce spun toward Caitlyn then, amusedly mouthing ‘ cupcake ?’, to which she rolled her eyes and moved to pinch him. Jayce jumped away from her, defensively crossing his hands over his pectorals as a silent snicker slipped out of him, eagerly escaping her mortal pincers.

 

Still, there was a silent tug at the corner of Caitlyn’s mouth, which Viktor found quite endearing. 

 

Eventually, Vi stuttered to a stop. She pivoted and faced the group, shrugging as she gestured behind her. “We’re here.”

 

The three of them looked up at the building towering across the street. The windows were opaque and there was an air of mystery to the edifice. People with heavy make-up and leathered clothes were coming in and out of the establishment, and there was a heavy bouncer in front of two imposing black doors. 

 

“And here is…?” Caitlyn prompted, a nonchalance to her posture despite the tone of inquiry.

 

The edge of a faint smile stretched in Vi’s mouth. “Welcome to Nuit de Goût.” 

 

Viktor snorted, causing a curious Jayce to meet his gaze. “Does that mean anything to you?” 

 

Suddenly, all eyes were on him. Great. “It’s a sex club,” he clarified in a monotonic tone. 

 

Both Jayce and Caitlyn turned their dramatic gape toward Vi, searching for confirmation. When her amusement only widened, both began to speak simultaneously. 

 

“Are you mad ?”

 

“A sex club?!” 

 

“You do realize this is my brother , correct?” 

 

“Please, don’t. Why’d you even have to bring that up at all.”

 

“Because it feels relevant, Jayce. There are certain things one can’t unsee."  

 

They went back and forth for a while, and Viktor merely stood to the side to observe their exchange. 

 

If Viktor were to be candid, the idea of being around horny people for the night invoked absolutely no appeal to him. 

 

Yet, as he studied the different people emerging from that intriguing entrance, the way they dressed, he couldn’t help the curiosity blooming in his chest. 

 

Not for himself, per se. 

 

But to witness Jayce experience such an environment for the first time. Viktor could easily imagine his perpetual shock, one he would try to conceal in order to not call attention to himself, which would only make the experience all the more entertaining. 

 

He wondered if there would be people on all fours, being paraded by their masters on a leash. 

 

That thought alone brought Viktor a sudden sense of delight, curling in his tongue and encouraging him to speak. 

 

"I say we go.”

 

Their heads snapped in his direction, clearly surprised by his unexpected concession.

 

Vi smiled at him and gave him a wink. 

 

"Oh?" Asked Jayce. 

 

Viktor couldn’t contain the curve to his mouth. "Let's go do something stupid," he announced. Without another word, he shuffled across the road.

 

Vi's snicker followed him. In the span of two steps, she caught up to him, throwing an arm around his shoulder.

 

Viktor immediately felt the weight of her limb pull him down.

 

"You know, every time we meet, I like you a little bit better, Vik,” she quietly confessed. “Can I call you Vik? I’m calling you Vik.”

 

Viktor let out a huff of amusement. "Lucky me." 

 

“Do you think they’re following?” 

 

“Yes,” he admitted. “Jayce is far too curious by nature not to.” 

 

_ _ _ 

As Jayce watched Viktor walk away, Vi’s arm around his shoulder, a new yet simultaneously familiar tug insisted he follow. 

 

There was a soothing pause. 

 

“You want to?” He asked quietly. 

 

“Strangely, I do,” she confessed, a fond curiosity in her tone. He rarely saw Caitlyn like this, entranced and tempted to follow. She’d always been the one to stubbornly lead the way. 

 

Perhaps this new experience would do her good. And what better way to go about it than by knowing Jayce was close by in case she needed him? 

 

“If anything happens, use your phone– text me. I’ll find you.” 

 

Her voice turned amused. “You do realize I've been protecting myself since I was seven." 

 

“I know,” he affirmed calmly. Jayce inhaled through his nose. “Just promise me, okay? Or your mum will kill me.” 

 

She let out a mirthful sound. Pensive, Cait turned to him and, after a beat, gave him a small nod. “Same to you.” 

 

He pursed his lips, dreading this next part. That thread was pulling him further, that familiar itch crawling under his skin. Jayce found that he wasn't entirely opposed to doing something out of his comfort zone to rid himself of it. 

 

Jayce rolled his eyes. “If, for whatever reason, you happen to enter any room I am in, you leave.” 

 

Cait let out a strangled sound. “Obviously. I do not want our relationship to be forever marred.” 

 

“Agreed.”

 

In truth, Jayce wasn’t too worried. He knew they’d both make sure that didn’t happen, and he knew he could trust Cait to be meticulous about it. 

 

With newfound decisiveness, they began to follow in tandem. 

 

Jayce couldn’t help himself, he let out, “So, you’re clearly smitten, huh?” 

 

“Shut up.” 

 

His mouth curved upward as he looked down at Cait. “I like her.” 

 

She failed to control her mirroring expression as she found his gaze. “I like him, too.” 

_ _ _

Once inside, they were received by an animated host who informed them of the rules, the dos and don’ts of this particular house. They were asked to choose between three bracelets: red, to communicate a lack of interest in being approached; orange, to disclose openness to being proposed to; and green, to inform the public of availability to play. 

 

“I will if you will,” Vi challenged, eyes pinned on Jayce. 

 

For some reason, there always seemed to be an underlying rivalry between them. Viktor was coming to rather enjoy it, considering the sight was what often sparked a fun evening. 

 

Jayce and Vi seemed to have a silent conversation between their pinned gazes. After a short snort, he conceded, “I’ll take the orange.”

 

“Same,” Vi chimed in. 

 

“Fine,” Caitlyn dragged out. “I’ll take one as well.” 

 

The host then turned to Viktor, who politely asked for the red one. 

 

After everyone was settled and had paid for their respective entrance, the host brought them a platter filled with gummies. They inclined it toward the group, the offer clear. 

 

“What’s this?” Inquired Caitlyn. 

 

“Fun,” said Vi, eyebrows wiggling. While keeping eye contact with Caitlyn, she swiftly reached for one and popped it in her mouth. Jayce shrugged and followed suit. 

 

“Is it… Safe?” 

 

“Do you think I’d let you take anything that wasn’t?” Vi’s tone was casual, but the simmering truth behind her words was palpable. “Live a little, Cait.” 

 

“It is perfectly safe,” assured the host. “And not at all mandatory.” 

 

Caitlyn kept her gaze pinned on Vi, carefully studying her. Vi’s expression remained open under the perceived scrutiny, a flirtatious challenge underneath that nonchalant, unblinking peer. Eventually, Caitlyn rolled her eyes. Her delicate fingers grasped a single jelly sweet and, while keeping eye contact with her friend, she slowly placed it in her tongue and swallowed. 

 

And Viktor wasn’t sure what drove him forward in that moment, for he too raised his hand to the bowl and took one for himself. 

 

“Enjoy.”

 

They decided to visit the bar before anything else. Shot after shot, they drank to ease the tension of being in an unknown environment.

 

“To helping people breathe better!” Cheered Vi. 

 

“To helping people indirectly breathe better,” corrected Jayce with the same enthusiasm, cheeks already flushed. 

 

Jayce wore a red flannel over a white T-shirt, the fabric clinging to his abdomen like a second skin. His black pants hung loose, and he’d opted for comfortable sneakers.

 

Viktor thought he looked rather comfortable. Handsome.

 

And his musky cologne smelled delicious. 

 

Their glasses clinked in the middle before they tossed back their shots, the burn slipping down with ease.

 

Music pounded through the club, shaking the floor beneath their feet. Before long, they were shuffled deeper inside– the owners clearly uninterested in letting people linger near the entrance.

 

The next room invited indulgence. It was sweltering and thick with haze, the dim, colored lights promising sin. Dark silhouettes shifted in movement.

 

As they made their way to an empty table, Viktor’s gaze flicked over the scene– topless women lounging in laps, some engaged in conversation while hands lazily wandered from beneath tables, worshippers hidden in shadow.

 

Viktor glanced at Jayce, whose eyes were widening out of their sockets. He was staring at the floor as if he’d caught a glimpse of something he wasn’t supposed to. It made Viktor want to giggle. 

 

Once seated, they kept drinking, conversation slipping between their laughter. That was when the gummy kicked in.

 

Warmth bloomed in Viktor’s chest, unfurling and seeping into his limbs, accompanied by sweet mapple syrup languidly coursing through his veins. It curled into his fingers, his toes, unfussed yet insistent. A pleasant buzz hummed beneath his skin, calling his attention to every sensation.

 

He reclined on the booth and shut his eyes as pleasure overtook him.

 

For once, nothing hurt. Even the usual pinching in his leg had quieted into a distant memory. He was warm, and he could breathe.

 

In that brief moment, he felt so overwhelmingly grateful. 

 

Fingers grazed his knee, warm and familiar. 

 

He’d recognise that touch anywhere. 

 

Jayce had leaned in, his voice quiet. “You okay?”

 

Viktor smiled, a genuine thing for the umpteenth time as of recently . “Perfect.” 

 

“They just invited the girls to a very interesting room. Shall we?” 

 

Only then did Viktor notice Caitlyn and Vi had already risen from their seats, waiting expectantly.

 

With the support of his crutch, he pushed himself to his feet and followed close behind.

 

Viktor heard the change in step before he saw,  immediately cursing inwardly. 

 

Turning the corner, he spotted Vi and Cait halfway up the stairs, deep in conversation.

 

Jayce was a few steps behind.

 

By the time Viktor finished sighing, Jayce had glanced over his shoulder and swirled, clearly scanning for him. 

 

Seeing that Viktor was unmoving, he climbed down the stairs once more. 

 

"You should join them."

 

"No way," Jayce responded automatically, as if such a thing were unthinkable. "Where you go, I go– remember?" 

 

Viktor’s eyes softened as he watched Jayce descend the last few steps.

 

A knowing smile tugged at Jayce’s lips. "Besides, I'm sure there are just as many devious sights on this floor," he smirked.

 

Viktor considered for a moment. "And the girls?" 

 

"I’ll text Cait," Jayce assured. Then, with an easy familiarity, he slung an arm over Viktor’s shoulder, heated skin on skin– his flannel now tied loosely around his waist. “Come on, let’s get another drink so I can begin to process some of the things I’ve seen.”

 

Viktor snickered and gave in without protest.

 

They found a table in another section, the atmosphere just as intoxicating– heat, music, and low-lit depravity filling every inch of space.

 

The moment they shuffled into the new booth, Jayce exhaled heavily.

 

“How’s that gummy treating you?” Viktor asked over the music, mirth dancing in his tongue. 

 

It seemed he was also stuck with incessant questions around Jayce Talis, having fallen into the habit of prying into his mind. Viktor discovered how eager he was to pull on the thread of his thoughts, and see what unraveled. 

 

Jayce stretched his arms over the back of the seat, eyes shutting briefly. “Cruelly,” he admitted.

 

“How’s that?” 

 

A beat of hesitation. Then Jayce pressed his lips together, as if debating whether to say it out loud.

 

“It’s making me crave physicality.”

 

Viktor chuckled, a quiet cough rasping at his throat before he spoke again. “I suspect that to be the point.”

 

Jayce shivered. “It’s unbearable.” His voice dipped slightly, like he was confessing something raw. “Even now, my arm feels cold, and I only had it on you for a minute.”

 

Perhaps it was the alcohol that incentivised him to suggest, “Would you like me to return?” 

 

Jayce’s head lifted, eyes boring into Viktor’s. 

 

There was a heavy beat.

 

“I would,” he confessed quietly. “Yes.”

 

“Alright.” 

 

Without giving it much thought, Viktor shifted closer. With a slight surprise, Jayce sat up and lifted his arm in order to make room for Viktor. 

 

He settled his spine against Jayce’s side, finding that position comfortable enough to avoid any predictable aches. Emboldened, he allowed the back of his head to lull, resting against Jayce without effort.

 

Slowly, Jayce let his arm fall over Viktor’s shoulder, his hand circling his chest as if this position were nothing but habit.

 

Heat swiftly curled around Viktor’s nape, spreading over his collarbone and sinking deep into his chest. Wherever Jayce touched, Viktor’s skin bloomed in comfort underneath. And even though Viktor wondered if he’d ever stop finding that impossible comfort deeply surprising, for once he also leaned into it and let it take over completely. It pulsed through him, that slow-burning current that bled that exquisite heat into his ribs, his lungs, his bones. His soul, really. 

 

Not that he’d ever admit to such a thing.

 

Profound satisfaction curled within as he sank further into Jayce’s warmth, exhaling a slow breath. “Better?” 

 

“Much,” Jayce murmured with weighed relief. “You?” 

 

“Yes,” he replied simply. 

 

Soon enough, Viktor’s breaths synchronized with the ups and downs pressing at his back. 

 

After a quiet pause, the familiar weight of a chin came to rest atop his head, settling him further. Jayce let out a long breath, his hold around Viktor’s middle tightening slightly, as if wordlessly anchoring them both. “Thanks for this, V.”

 

How he was coming to love the press of that chin. “It’s nothing.” 

 

Little did Jayce know, Viktor could stay like this forever. 

 

A stretch of silence passed, comfortably filled by the hum of music and the ambient murmur of the club. Eventually, Jayce spoke again.

 

“I think that’s the only thing I’ve seen so far that I’d be down to try.” 

 

The comment was vague enough to pique Viktor’s curiosity, but before he could ask, he caught movement from the corner of his eye– two passing women, pausing just briefly before exchanging a glance and smiling as they continued on.

 

With a frown, Viktor inquired, “What, exactly?” 

 

Jayce lifted a finger toward the stage in the center of the room. “That.” 

 

Viktor followed his gesture– and felt something hot coil in his stomach.

 

There, against a large cross, was a man bound in place, his body open to exploration as others indulged freely, teasing and toying with him as they pleased.

 

“Interesting,” he mused, his voice carefully even. 

 

Jayce hummed in agreement. “I don't think I could do it so publicly, though.” 

 

“Yes, that's a different ballpark.”

 

A beat passed before Jayce hesitated. “Have you–”

 

“Excuse us,” a voice cut in smoothly.

 

Viktor looked up to find the same two women from a moment ago, now standing beside their booth.

 

There was a slight tremble underneath Jayce’s tone. “Yes?”

 

“We couldn’t help but overhear,” one of them said, smiling. “Would you mind if we joined you for a moment?”

 

“Um.” Jayce squeezed Viktor briefly against him before making a vague gesture. “Sure.”

 

What followed was a proposition– one Jayce’s bracelet invited. They went back and forth, discussing boundaries, interests, and expectations with a clinical precision that Viktor found himself profoundly appreciating. There was an exactness to it, a clarity of intention that left no room for uncertainty.

 

And yet, despite their thorough approach–despite how much Viktor respected it–he couldn’t ignore the ache settling deep in his bones.

 

One that whispered with the fact that he longed to be in their place. 

 

Viktor was slowly descending into madness by simply imagining Jayce, tied to a cross before him. Eager and waiting. 

 

Fuck. 

 

Out, out of my head. Bad, Viktor. Bad.

 

By the time they reached a mutual, enthusiastic agreement, Viktor’s stomach was a tangled mess.

 

As they made a move to stand, Jayce’s voice spoke in his ear with a pleading murmur. “Come with me.” 

 

Viktor blinked. “Hm?” 

 

He smiled against his ear, a certain embarrassment lurking underneath his tone. “I could use a chaperone.” 

 

“Jayce,” Viktor voiced, strangled. “I’m sure you’ll be just fine.”

 

“Please?” He insisted. “Just knowing you’ll be close by makes this far less daunting.” 

 

“We can find a closer spot for you to sit it out,” one of the girls offered, casually waiting for either of them to move. 

 

Viktor had no idea whether this would be torturous or enlightening. He was astronomically curious to find out. 

 

He suppressed a heavy sigh and shrugged. “Lead the way.” 

 

One of the women disappeared with Jayce, while the other led Viktor down a narrow hall, where a deep burgundy couch awaited.

 

He murmured a quiet thanks as he set his crutch aside and sank into the cushions, stretching his frame in a way that kept the strain off his body.

 

There was an expansive window before him– a large pane of glass stretching from the ceiling to just above the floor, offering a perfect view into the adjacent room.

 

But Viktor found his eyes pinned to the floor.

 

He’d agreed and then immediately lost sight of Jayce. Viktor was drunk and sluggish and disappointed in himself.

 

There was a certain nervousness pricking the inside walls of his stomach, a hope that Jayce would be alright, wherever he ended up. Viktor prayed that his anxiousness would dissolve the moment he began to feel good. That he exercised saying no, if uncertainty crept in at any point. 

 

And yet, somehow, Viktor trusted the people he’d left Jayce with. Trusted the rules. Trusted that they’d read discomfort the same way they had back at the table, attuned to boundaries before they were ever crossed.

 

What a strange, weird night. 

 

For a brief moment, Viktor allowed himself to wonder if his relationship with Jayce would have been different if he’d been born a woman. 

 

He seemed so easily on board when that was the case.

 

It was an ache he could not rid himself fully of, especially because he knew the answer with unwavering certainty–

 

They wouldn’t have made it past the first week without clawing each other’s clothes off. 

 

It was baffling because gender had always been such a meaningless concept to Viktor. It seemed rather absurd to limit human beings to a neat performance in order to differentiate them by genitalia. A confining, premeditated, forced upon existence that left no room for hesitation. By definition, an opposition to human nature.

 

And yet, under the guise of nature, society had spun this sickly obsession with categorization. A compulsive need to discern, at first glance, what lay between a person’s thighs in order to dictate their perception of them.

 

It was sickly and perverse.

 

And we were all silently abiding by it. 

 

Reinforcing this obsessive behaviour by jumping into its open jaws and hoping it didn’t choose us for a snack– considering the approach was flawed by its own standards. It turned human beings two-dimensional. Blue, pink. Gay, straight. Cis, non-cis. 

 

Wasn't it part of our raw beauty as a species the fact that our self expression could be limitless? 

 

Worse still, one of the two options was always more severely punished than the other. Those two dimensions always trickled down to the same one: moral, immoral. Nature was being damned under their insidious classifications.

 

But the truth was that as much as Viktor would have liked to abolish this reality for the sake of simply existing, such a thing was not yet possible. People around him still participated in these invisible rules. 

 

Jayce included. 

 

Because, in the end, Viktor was not a woman. 

 

And somehow, that made all the difference. 

 

Viktor let his inebriated thoughts wander further.

 

Because, now thinking about it, Viktor wasn’t entirely sure he was a man, either. He found that with each passing day, he lost the definition of what that entailed exactly and unconsciously reconstructed it in his mind.

 

To be a man for Viktor meant to be kind. To be soft. To care. To stand up against injustices. To make a show of strength if the moment called for it. To properly distinguish which exceptional moments called for it, with acute precision. To be inclusive. Assertive. Reliable. Of service.

 

At least, that’s what Viktor aspired to be. 

 

Yet the more he thought about it, the more he simply realised those to be qualities he admired, regardless of gender. 

 

As he stared at the rings he’d settled on his thumbs, a part of himself stirred.

 

In his drunken mind, one that was freely drifting, Viktor finally admitted it.

 

A silenced part of him was equally called to the feminine divine. The worship. Being on the receiving end of tortured tenderness. Being seen and longed for.

 

Seeing it done to others tonight had caused something inside him to crack an eye open in recognition, as if the thrum of his thoughts were enticing it to wake from mandated slumber.

 

Viktor had never had the opportunity to explore that side of himself. At the mercy of his ambition, he’d always routed whatever little energy he had had to spare to climb the ladder of his career. All other parts of his identity had obediently remained dormant for the sake of efficient prioritisation. 

 

But truth be told, now, in the wake of his current reality, he came to find he no longer gave much of a shit about anything at all. 

 

And still, despite his recent liberating indifference, he couldn’t help but mourn the fact that he could have given Jayce everything he wanted. He could have made sure he felt desired, honored, admired. Viktor would have dedicated full days to ensuring Jayce felt appreciated. If Jayce enjoyed being tied up, Viktor had several ideas roaming in his mind as to how to provide that connection he so desperately craved whilst also making him feel as good as he fucking deserved. 

 

Giving back sexually was something Viktor could have perfectly managed, a language he knew he would have become proficient in with Jayce, and it infuriated him that he’d never be offered the privilege because of invisible rules. Because of what lay between his legs. Because of the bump in his throat or the gravel in the deep tones of his voice. 

 

Jayce wouldn’t even have had to love him back. Friends could be perfectly intimate with one another without the need for further commitment. Jayce could have taken Viktor’s ardent affection and done with it as he pleased. It felt conflicting that what Jayce yearned for could be so effortlessly provided by Viktor, if he’d only see him in that same lens. 

 

When Viktor looked up, searching for a distraction from his meddlesome thoughts, he found movement across the glass. 

 

Curious, he tried to make sense of what he was looking at. 

 

There was a man tied to a cross, completely in the nude. One woman traced a slow, deliberate finger down the expanse of his chest, while another knelt before him, her head moving in a steady rhythm.

 

It took Viktor a moment to register. The realization struck like a lightning bolt, startling his system into deep arousal. 

 

The man in question was Jayce.  

 

His hands were restrained above his head, stretching his body in a way that accentuated every sculpted muscle. His taut abdomen tensed with each breath, his lean waist slimming before giving way to powerful thighs.

 

And yet, despite the vulnerability of his position, Jayce’s face was relaxed. Unburdened.

 

Relief swiftly flooded Viktor’s chest. 

 

Like an esbelt statue, every inch of him looked intentional, as if shaped by the careful hands of a master sculptor. Every curve, every indentation– purposeful and breathtaking.

 

Viktor was too far away to appreciate any finer detail, but as if catching himself in the act, he snapped his head down at once. 

 

Heat coiled low in his stomach, sharp and unrelenting. He quickly adjusted himself before anyone could notice. 

 

It was beyond comprehension how a split image of Jayce had managed to, once again, resurrect Viktor's hunger. 

 

His dick was swelling and Viktor wasn’t sure if it was because of the drug, or the mere thought that if he were to so much as lift his eyes, he'd have a full view of Jayce getting a blowjob . 

 

And Christ, Viktor wanted to look. He was suddenly desperate to. 

 

He wanted to memorize every flicker of pleasure across Jayce’s face. He wanted to bask in his radiance, in his unraveling, in the exquisite moment when he came undone.

 

Every other thought was whisked from existence.

 

His eyes flickered upward–just once, just for a second–before darting back down, but the damage was done. Another snapshot burned itself into Viktor’s mind.

 

He clenched his jaw. Chastised himself.

 

Still, he did not move.

 

Viktor told himself he was merely checking. Making sure Jayce was alright, that he wasn’t overwhelmed, or searching for an out.

 

Yet, when he analysed the fleeting image in his mind, he realised– Jayce had been staring at him. 

 

His dick stirred anew, growing against his belly with a familiar ache in the shape of his lab partner.

 

But Viktor felt it now. The warmth of Jayce's attention, brushing his skin, silently searching. 

 

Irony grasped Viktor by the throat and squeezed. 

 

It was as if his entire existence suddenly teetered on a line he was being dared to cross. One he’d been making peace a mere minute ago about never experiencing. 

 

Or perhaps it wasn’t an invitation at all. 

 

Perhaps Jayce simply needed confirmation that he was being looked after. 

 

And damn it all, Viktor found himself utterly helpless to him, regardless. 

 

_ _ _

 

Jayce couldn't look away.

 

A flicker of amber had caught his eye from across the room, and now he was devoted to the chase.

 

But like a dog with a bone, Jayce wasn’t entirely sure of what he’d do if he actually caught it. He was simply keenly aware of his uncontrollable impulse, naturally inclined to follow Viktor. 

 

Viktor was staring downward and it somehow felt wrong, wrong, wrong . 

 

Viktor had been seeking him, and now Jayce was caught relentlessly seeking back. 

 

Come back here.

 

Viktor lounged against the couch, knees parted, elbows draped over the backrest, fingers curled midair.

 

He wore a refined wine-colored shirt that almost blended into the couch, causing his pale skin to provoke a stark contrast by comparison. Especially considering the sharp cut-up sleeves, as well as the V-shaped fabric that teased his collarbones, naturally dipping into the hollows at his throat. His top was stylishly tucked into his black pants, cinched where his waist narrowed.

 

The gleam in the metal of his brace beckoned with familiarity. Like a lighthouse, leading the way back to port.

 

Rings glinted on his thumbs. And– hot damn.

 

Viktor looked confident. Masculine. Sensual.

 

Jayce’s brain stuttered over the word, a record scratch interrupting his train of thought. It was an insistent tune Jayce didn’t yet understand beyond fact.

 

With excruciating slowness, amber eyes crawled upward until they found Jayce’s. 

 

The moment they locked, the thought completed itself with a gasp.

 

There you are.

 

He wouldn’t have known how to explain it. 

 

But in his fuzzy brain, Jayce simply knew that feeling those eyes on him felt right. It had always felt right.

 

His body intuitively warmed under Viktor’s attention. It was new, and mind-boggling and Jayce wanted more. 

 

Whatever that meant in the moment, he had no clue. But the potential loss of severing that link now seemed insurmountable. 

 

At first, Viktor’s gaze was soft. Concerned.

 

And Jayce should have been embarrassed by the fact that he was naked, fully naked, so utterly vulnerable in front of his best friend. 

 

Instead, he felt ensnared. 

 

As if he’d inadvertently fallen into an impossibly strong current and there was no way out. It was feverishly pulling in, in, in. 

 

Viktor’s expression had been delicately questioning, a tender thing– but upon registering Jayce’s quiet, welcoming reaction at his attention, it changed entirely in a blink. 

 

Now, Viktor looked starved .

 

Yes, Jayce’s body wanted to respond. Whether in final understanding or sudden solidarity, Jayce wasn’t sure. 

 

A pulse of blood shot to his cock in instinctive recognition and Jayce was immediately bewitched. It was as if, for once, Jayce’s body were speaking to him in a language he could somewhat piece together. 

 

Viktor’s gaze dipped, painfully slow, and traced over Jayce’s lips, the slope of his neck, the plane of his chest. 

 

Jayce’s stomach clenched. More.

 

Viktor's attention carved an ardent path over Jayce’s skin, as if rewriting him with every additional, lingering second spent on him. Jayce was quickly haunted by the sensation Viktor was unknowingly searing under his skin.

 

It dragged lower, unrushed, indulgent, deliberate– a phantom caress over his stomach, his thighs. His feet. Then–

 

It flickered toward the woman kneeling before him. The one Jayce had completely forgotten about.

 

Viktor curiously studied her, like he was sizing up her technique.

 

And Jayce– fuck . His cock swelled to full hardness inside an expectant mouth, his half-limp arousal vanishing under the weight of that diligent assessment.

 

It hit Jayce all at once that Viktor was reveling in watching him be taken care of. Almost as if he wanted to measure whether Jayce was being properly looked after before he sat back and enjoyed .

 

Soft, satisfied noises drifted from below, but Jayce barely heard them. He could only focus on Viktor and on the strange and thrilling feeling of being under his protection. Of having his unwavering notice. 

 

Viktor’s liquid eyes flickered up, a newly discovered force slamming into him. A moan was unconsciously ripped from Jayce’s throat as an inexplicable wave of pleasure coursed through him. It was another combustion, something utterly unpredictable and uncontrollable that flooded his body. 

 

Jayce felt like a puppet, his body at the immediate mercy of an unexpected master. 

 

Viktor’s detailed attention was a touch. A brand. And as they stared at each other, Jayce experienced once more what it felt like to have a moment suspended in some separate frame of reality.

 

Viktor didn’t watch him in passing. Not like the two women in this room, who had their own game, their own intentions, their own dynamic that Jayce had agreed to act as a vessel for.

 

Viktor was seeing him, and only him. As if Jayce were something he genuinely wanted to care for. Something worthy of being observed.

 

It was feeding the wildfire that had rampaged through Jayce. That thing inside him, the one he hadn't known how to reach, unmistakably stirred- lurking, alive . Desperately wanting to take over.

 

Because Viktor was not just anyone to Jayce, either, was he? 

 

That man was his lab partner. The person who had injected nothing but joy and fulfillment into Jayce's life. Someone who accepted Jayce as he was, without ever wanting anything in return. That was the person who'd believed in him and listened to him and uplifted him.

 

One who encouraged Jayce to live. 

 

Someone Jayce wanted to cherish, except now he was being randomly informed that there could be an entirely new aspect to what that could entail.

 

His body was quickly obsessed with the mere possibility. Jayce moved his hips, keeping that contact, seeking deeper stimulation to match the furore slowly beginning to bubble within. 

 

And, somehow just as attractive, Viktor was a person who wouldn't entertain just anybody, either. 

 

It was rupturing Jayce’s mind to discover that he could be one of the people Viktor would deem worthy of consideration, in this context. 

 

Only pleasure existed. Only those ambered eyes, openly appraising him.

 

Only his every muscle, tightening, aching, pleading and yet without a clue what for.

 

A fingertip ghosted across Jayce’s chest, featherlight. Harmless. Viktor’s peer latched onto the touch with a flash of heat, his expression darkening, his jaw tightened just slightly.

 

The clear scrutiny made Jayce feel... precious.

 

Jayce barely had time to register the way his stomach tightened before their eyes collided again, the intensity striking like a swung fist, rattling Jayce's entire perception of himself. Viktor unfurled a delicate smile and overwhelming heat exuded from the depths of those molten eyes, taking Jayce apart by stare alone.

 

God, V.

 

They sent an unseen grip to Jayce’s chin, causing him to instinctively still. A silent command, playful and teasing but utterly unyielding. Look at me.

 

Jayce couldn't have looked away if he'd tried.

 

Jayce's body shuddered, heat flashing low and tight in his gut as breath fled his lungs. The world was narrowed to amber flames and the hunger he had awoken behind them. Jayce’s body was sweating, desperately trying to cool down his already overheating system.

 

Viktor latched on to his reaction, a faint smirk stretching in his mouth, something soft yet sharp, almost as if he were perceiving something helplessly…

 

Beautiful .

 

Viktor had signed it from afar, his hand casually raising to form the sincere gesture near his face.

 

The word burned through Jayce like liquid fire. 

 

A door inside him, one that had been slightly ajar, suddenly flung open with the force of a hurricane. His vision blurred at the edges, his pulse spiked, and a deep, uncontrollable moan tore from his throat, raw and helpless.

 

He suddenly found that he wanted to be beautiful to Viktor. He desperately needed it .

 

Jayce could not think properly. He did not have the ability to analyse what was happening at that moment, other than the fact that his body was no longer his own. He had no defenses, no reasoning.

 

But those golden eyes pinned on him, famished and wanting and admiring – it was salvation wrapped in a violent slap.

 

Destiny was knocking and he need only be brave enough to open the door. The one that was almost flying off its hinges now, in his mind.

 

It's like you're awake, he'd told Viktor. 

 

But now, God– now ,  Jayce was awake as well. Wide fucking awake. 

 

For the first time, Jayce looked at Viktor and felt nothing but ravenous desire. It was as if this entire new world had just been opened before him, one he’d never had the sufficient imagination to consider.

 

And the best part was that Viktor clearly felt the same. He was enjoying this. Feeding off it. Encouraging it.

 

Slurping sounds echoed somewhere under him, but Jayce found himself slightly dissociating from it. This attention had been taken hostage elsewhere. 

 

In this dream he found himself in, Viktor lowered his hands to his lap. 

 

Slowly, oh so slowly , his right hand brushed against his left. 

 

Jayce’s attention snapped to it in complete surrender. 

 

Languidly, the tip of Viktor’s fingertips began to caress the back of his hand, grazing in a graceful ascent.

 

Everything but those elegant hands, those long fingers, those stunning veins flowing through translucent skin, blurred in his vision. It was as if his surroundings had decided to relent into slow motion, and that caress turned lusciously eternal.

 

The tip of Viktor’s middle finger crept toward his wrist, tracing up in an elegant glide, and then further up.

 

Jayce understood then.

 

Viktor was leveling the field.

 

A secret display, intimate and unspoken, something delicate and deliberate, molded uniquely for Jayce.

 

He suddenly felt privileged to be on the receiving end of watching such a gorgeous, private side to Viktor. Had anyone else ever been privy to this? Had anyone else witnessed the enticing, reverent tenderness of Viktor’s hands? Had anyone else been powerless to the images they conjured? 

 

Viktor’s other hand joined, fingertips now skimming over his opposing forearm, both hands now moving in slow, symmetric, seamless harmony.

 

Jayce watched, transfixed, the stimulation on his hard cock twitching his stomach and building upon a mountain of crushing pleasure in his abdomen. 

 

Not yet.  

 

A tempting trail was left in their wake with slow, fluid motions– one finger first, then the palm smoothing over that faint touch, a ghostly map left behind for Jayce to follow. 

 

It was like Viktor was discovering himself before him. Like he was holding himself.

 

The image was striking. Viktor was striking .

 

Jayce’s hips stuttered, an instinctive reaction to the sheer ache that spread through his body at the mere thought of feeling that texture for himself. 

 

He was jealous of Viktor’s infuriatingly refined hands. Jayce’s skin prickled with the maddening desire to substitute them. To feel that texture beneath his own palms, to watch Viktor react to Jayce instead. 

 

He was dying to know what pleasure looked like on his partner when it was his will providing it.

 

And he didn’t wonder why he'd never had that thought cross his mind before. He was simply aware of the fact that now he could not unthink it.

 

It instantaneously consumed him.

 

That damned middle finger– slowly dragging, barely grazing, teasing its way up.

 

Jayce’s rhythm faltered, then quickened. His body responded before his mind could catch up, the wet sounds of his fucking echoing around them. The girl next to him chuckled. 

 

He thrust harder, letting every atom of his being be set aflame. That thing had unleashed inside him, an utterly primal side to him that no longer allowed for coherent thoughts. 

 

Just need. Overwhelming, debilitating, frenzied need. 

 

Like the answer to a question he never knew existed. 

 

Viktor’s hands continued to crawl up his arms, climbing over the beautiful curve of his shoulders. Eventually, the backs of his knuckles brushed against the sides of his neck. 

 

And Jayce wanted to plummet. To sink his teeth into that impossibly soft skin.  

 

That fragile caress, so faint yet so obliterating. 

 

The thought of his tongue tracing that same path made his throat tighten, forcing him to swallow over and over as his mouth watered.

 

A loud, needy whimper fled his lips, and he was comforted by the fact that there was a wall between them. That Viktor couldn’t hear the pathetic sounds coming out of his mouth at the mere thought of a flavour composed of nothing but Viktor.

 

He wondered what sounds would come out of him.

 

A leak of precum slid out of his aching cock and into a sleek and eagerly awaiting throat. 

 

Jayce knew Viktor would whimper softly when utterly unmade. He could almost hear it in his head, already.

 

Another groan burst out of him, driven to insanity as his imagination echoed a replication of those sounds inside his mind. Those breathy hums he sometimes uttered when deep in thought filtered into the mixed symphonies in his brain. 

 

Jayce’s head lolled forward. 

 

Still, his eyes were trained on Viktor.

 

Jayce fought against the restraints, muscles trembling with the desperate need to break free, to reach his newfound purpose– this undeniable pull toward his partner. One that somehow did not feel new in the slightest.

 

The leather held firm.

 

A frustrated sound climbed out of him. 

 

The girl next to him smoothly asked him if he remembered his safewords and he rasped between pants, “Yes. Don’t. Stop. Please.”

 

Stopping would kill him.  

 

From across the room, Viktor remained merciless. His hands continued their slow, languid caress– knuckles brushing his own cheekbones, fingers delicately framing his face. Jayce was once again hit with something entirely different.

 

That androgynous quality, that ethereal beauty , swelled back to the surface, drenching Viktor in a softness so powerful it burned. 

 

Viktor was so uniquely stunning, it hurt.

 

Jayce wanted to hold it– to cradle Viktor’s face in his hands and stare, unabashed, up close. To genuinely study the sharp lines of his jaw, the delicate slope of his cheekbones, the gentle curve of his lips.

 

And then his attention was snagged by that little mole below his eye.

 

Another brutal impulse struck him.

 

Unleashed, Jayce wanted to taste it. 

 

The need was so visceral, so urgent, his body jerked forward before he could stop it. A broken noise left his throat as another thick bead of precum leaked from his aching cock, his own imagination wrecking him.

 

The pent-up pleasure was turning too much to bear. He couldn’t think. He–

 

God, what was happening to him? 

 

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, Jayce kept trying to sign back to Viktor in a drugged daze. But his hands trembled against their restraints, fingers curling uselessly.

 

Nothing had ever felt like this, nothing had ever felt like this– nothing.

 

The smartest, most powerful man in the room was watching him.

 

With excruciating leisure, Viktor’s now resting hand crept towards the hem of his shirt.

 

Jayce’s breath hitched. His whole world zeroed in on the movement.

 

Fingertips caught the fabric, tugging it out of its confinement with agonizing delicacy.

 

Once freed, he continued to slide the garment up his torso, eyes trained on Jayce as if he were a meal Viktor wanted to ravish.

 

The cloth peeled away from Viktor’s waist, inch by inch. 

 

Jayce’s hips began to move again, chasing that sliver of bare skin in Viktor’s stomach, one he kept slowly unveiling further and further. One he wanted to press his nose against. One he wanted to map from up close. 

 

Jayce’s exhale came out stuttering.

 

There was an outline beneath Viktor’s pants– curved, lengthy, straining.

 

And then–

 

A bulge emerged from the hem of his trousers. A pink, round head, pressing below his belly button. 

 

Jayce could see it glisten all the way from across the fucking room.

 

Jayce’s lips parted in a sharp, shaky gasp. 

 

Viktor was equally hard. For Jayce.

 

He wasn’t alone in this madness. Viktor wanted him, too. 

 

And that made Jayce let the rest of his body weight collapse onto the restraints. 

 

He was unable to hold himself up any longer. Pain shot up his shoulders, sides, back– the sudden strain was almost violent. His wrists ached. 

 

Jayce didn't care.

 

Jayce’s whole body shook . His cock throbbed, crying and pleading, anguished to press against Viktor’s. A choked gasp escaped Jayce as heat coiled tighter, curling and burning, twisting like a living thing inside him.

 

It was a silent offering, a quiet gift laid out before him. A confirmation that whatever had awakened inside him was mutual.

 

Without breaking eye contact, Viktor carefully pressed his thumb against that glistening bead, and casually raised it to his mouth– lips wickedly expectant, tongue flicking out to taste.

 

Slowly, his mouth curved into a smile– as if he knew the impact that slight movement would cause.

 

Jayce was sent into yet another freefall, reviving the previous frenzy with a violent tug. 

 

For the first time in his life, Jayce saw a hard cock and salivated .

 

That bead had been his to consume.

 

The thought alone that he could elicit such a reaction out of Viktor was setting his entrails on fire. 

 

Jayce's body wanted to fall onto the floor. Needed to go to him, desperately craved it. 

 

More than anything in this world, Jayce wanted to crawl to his best friend. On hands and knees, to drag himself across the room, settle between Viktor’s thighs, and surrender entirely . In this moment, that's where Jayce felt he belonged. 

 

He wanted Viktor to speak. To tell him what he was thinking, to guide him– Jayce had no doubt in his mind that he would.

 

Jayce found that he would do anything in this moment to make Viktor feel good .

 

Viktor’s eyes were half-lidded now, lips parted as he continued to take Jayce in with mirrored devotion.

 

Jayce wanted to press his face into Viktor’s lap, nuzzle against his hardness and inhale , as much as he wanted to taste the coolness of his skin. 

 

And Jayce wanted to watch, in turn. 

 

To see Viktor’s expression when he took his cock and slowly sucked it into his mouth.

 

A fantasy Jayce had never pictured before. Something he'd have no clue how to do.

 

But it hit him with a blinding force, how much he wanted to do it, anyway. 

 

Drool began to drip down his chin as his pants became more ragged. Whatever was being done to him currently, he wanted to be the one doing to Viktor. He wanted to hear his moans. He wanted to hear his praise. He wanted to bask in that striking face, slack and wanting and powerful and unmade.

 

He wanted to know his taste, forever imprinted on his tongue.

 

Jayce desperately wanted Viktor to want him. To be yet another one of his exceptions.

 

This drug was blowing his mind. 

 

The room was humming with noise– encouraging moans, the sound of hardness hitting the back of a throat, of pleasure being drawn out and stoked to its breaking point.

 

Jayce was splintering.

 

His orgasm teetered on a knife’s edge, held hostage, restrained like the rest of him, prolonging the torture.

 

His pleasure kept climbing, building, pressing tight – his body ablaze, sweat slicking his skin, his muscles weak, his ears muffled, his vision blurring.

 

But through it all, he kept his eyes locked onto Viktor. 

 

Viktor, who had left his shirt bunched up, revealing himself to Jayce alone.

 

It was the way he looked at him that shattered Jayce the most.

 

The reverence. The admired desire. The claim.

 

He had never been looked at like that before.

 

The pleasure reached a fever pitch, surging forward like an unstoppable force. Jayce gasped, and still he held, mouth falling open and spit dripping onto the floor as he drowned in molten gold. It filled his lungs and robbed him of every breath, and with it, his sanity.

 

Seeing so clearly Viktor's approval over him was exploding so many different sources of pleasure that Jayce was losing his grip on reality. 

 

He panted and panted, ragged and brutal– trying to make this strange dream last. 

 

Viktor slowly raised his hand, the challenge blazing in his gaze. 

 

He spelled one word, lazily almost. 

 

Cum.

 

That quiet invitation was all it took for Jayce to detonate, his body obeying– regardless of his say. Viktor's clear permission caused an animalistic groan to rip out of Jayce's throat. His body locked, muscles pulling impossibly taut, and his cock stiffened, pulsing and pulsing and so achingly hard. 

 

His vision went white. His ears rang.

 

An unfathomable release erupted, wave after wave, shuddering through his body, raw and violent and endless . His back arched. His wrists strained. His thighs trembled and gave out as he spilled, over and over, his mind gone .

 

By the time he came back to himself, he was being freed from his restraints, slowly lowered to the floor: hands pressing against his cheeks, a cool cloth tapping over his face.

 

He blinked dazedly, struggling to find his bearings, yet allowing those cool touches and soothing words to return him to the present.

 

When he finally stood and desperately glanced across the room– 

 

Viktor was gone. 

///

Viktor bolted toward the bathroom of the club, as quickly as his trembling limbs would carry him, and frantically locked himself inside a cubicle. 

 

His breaths were ragged, almost violent against his throat. 

 

There was nothing he could do to soothe the volcano inside himself. It would blow, with or without his help. 

 

Jayce.

 

He threw himself against the corner of the stall, mouth slack, palming his aching dick through his pants. 

 

JayceJayceJayceJayce

 

Once he unfastened his belt, Viktor unbuttoned his pants with a frenzied tug, freeing his throbbing cock from cruel confinement. 

 

The images were looping in his mind, over and over and over again. Disbelief only heightened his arousal– the thought that this was real. That this had actually happened.

 

Completely overtaken by desperation, his hand jerked up and down, stroking himself as if that would return the breath Jayce had just ripped from him. 

 

JayceJayceJayce

 

The frenzied wet slaps reverberated around the bathroom walls, the drug heightening every single one of his senses. Viktor kept his lips pursed, reigning in the sounds that wanted to shoot out of his mouth. Ones of unbridled pleasure.  

 

Christ, fuck .

 

Viktor wanted everything with Jayce. For the first time, he allowed his body to surrender to his clawing need. There was no guilt, no shame in completely abandoning himself to his reckoning feelings. It no longer felt like a betrayal of Jayce’s trust– it was now an allowed necessity .

 

Those eyes on him, carefully tracking his every move, inspecting every inch of exposed skin Viktor had tempted him with. Those fucking eyes. Unmistakably wanting for him. 

 

Viktor’s pre-cum was leaking in one, long tear onto the bathroom floor. 

 

Jayce wanted Viktor. 

 

And not only that, but Viktor would never forget the earth-shattering combustion that followed once he’d been granted permission to finish. 

 

God, it had been the hottest thing Viktor had ever seen.

 

Pleasure built and built, sweat slithering down his temples. When a wave of pleasure trickled up his abdomen, he cupped the tip of his glistening dick. No longer able to keep it inside, Viktor bit his shoulder, tasting cotton on his tongue, to stifle the whimpers that broke out of him. 

 

An obscene amount of cum spurted out of him and to his awaiting palm. 

 

His body slumped against the wall, weight equally draped over his crutch, spent and reeling from the sudden brutality of the act. One that had been unconsciously building and building for months.

 

Even then, he was utterly unable to stop sliding his hand up and down his length, milking himself out of every drop that, in this very moment, belonged to Jayce Talis. 

 

By the time he cleaned up and left the toilet, he ran into Cait in the hallway. She mentioned that Jayce had thought he'd left, and done the same. 

///

Viktor had taken a ride back to the house and kept himself busy.

 

Patient. Simmering.

 

Eventually, exhaustion won. The aftershocks of the night, the slow ebbing of the aphrodisiac, the weight of everything – his body left no choice but to succumb.

 

But sleep was restless.

 

He woke sporadically, each time sharpening his listening or casually reaching for the other side of the bed, for any sign that Jayce had returned safely.

 

Viktor didn’t know why his subconscious mind assumed Jayce would join his bed–  there was a clear delusion behind his impulses. 

 

Because each time, the space remained empty.

 

Now, as Viktor stared at his phone screen, midday sun cutting sharply through the window, it was undeniable.

 

Jayce hadn’t come home at all.

 

J: Dude. I just woke up. I completely blacked out and ended up in Shauna’s daughter's apartment. 

 

That’s what the message read. 

 

Viktor stared blankly at it. Confused. Disoriented. 

 

Alright? , he texted back.

 

Viktor kept his eyes pinned on the open chat as if he could magically will it to sprout a reply.

 

J: Yeah, all good.

 

There was a pause as Viktor collected his thoughts. 

 

V: What's the last thing you remember? 

 

Jayce’s response did not come immediately. Viktor tried to read his book in the meantime, but his mind would not focus on the words as they blurred together into meaningless nothings. 

 

Instead, it harassed him with pictures from last night. Of Jayce’s desire. Of how his face contorted in absolute pleasure when he was brought to the brink– brows pinched, jaw slack, flushed skin. 

 

Christ, Viktor couldn’t stop looping it in his head. 

 

At last, a buzz. 

 

J: Pfff. Taking shots at the bar? I don't know. 

 

An indescribable sort of devastation struck Viktor’s chest. 

 

Despite it all, Jayce had still chosen to find comfort in someone else's arms.

 

As if Viktor’s limbs hadn't been forged to cradle his frame.

 

As if Viktor hadn't been home, waiting for him. Waiting to give him everything he had to offer, for whatever time he had left. 

 

A single moment, one night, one glorious event that could have deepened every aspect of their connection, an interaction that had completely and irrevocably changed Viktor’s perception of reality. 

 

Only for Jayce to forget it. 

 

Only for Viktor to be abandoned, by either cowardly choice or wretched misfortune, to retain this memory for himself in the wake of a nuclear explosion. 

 

It settled something cold inside him, something that mixed with the aching pains travelling from his foot, his knee and his lower back. With the nausea now so painfully coiling in his gut.

 

Viktor rose quickly to his feet, leaning heavily on his crutch. He got dressed and sent out a last message. 

 

V: I'll be in the lab if you want to chat. 

 

Exhausted and hurt, Viktor decided to accept whatever version of reality Jayce shared with him. Even if he’d rather pretend nothing had happened, Viktor would oblige. 

 

It tasted bitter in his mouth, but at this point, he did not want any conflict. He wanted his friend around, as he'd always been. Jayce was the one source of goodness Viktor had in his life. He’d do anything to protect it, regardless of the personal cost.

 

No cost would be higher than to lose him, altogether.

 

The thought that their connection could burst into flames over this was making Viktor want to hurl. 

 

In order to keep the peace, Viktor had to believe his word. 

 

In another lifetime, he would have found the nerve to be insulted. In this one, he didn't have the energy for it. 

 

Viktor simply didn’t want to lose him. He’d erase every memory if it meant keeping things as they were. 

 

As he was about to leave the house, a familiar voice stopped him in his tracks.

 

“You’re leaving?” 

 

The twinge of concern in Meni’s voice made Viktor look up. She'd known they were going out to celebrate, and was probably just as aware of the fact that her son was nowhere to be found.

 

“Going to the lab,” he clarified with a tender smile.

 

He needed to find a distraction efficient enough to allow him to remember how to breathe again. Think. Keep him from vomiting his guts out.

 

“Let me drive you.” 

 

The car ride was silent. Meni seemed to be deep in thought, and at times she inhaled as if she were going to speak, yet never did. 

 

Which was yet another aspect of her that reminded him of–

 

Ah, fuck. 

 

Everything hurt today. 

 

“My son,” Meni finally started with a calm tone, as if she could read his mind. “He can be a bit obtuse, can't he?” 

 

Viktor pressed his lips together, keeping his casual amusement trapped inside him. “Part of the charm,” he murmured after a pause, the corners of lips feignedly tilted upward as he stared at the road ahead.

 

Meni hummed low in her throat. “Sometimes.” 

 

The rest of the way was quiet between them.

 

Meni parked in front of the Academy, and the click of Viktor's seatbelt unfastening echoed loudly in the car. 

 

“Before you go, darling,” Meni spoke out. Viktor removed his digits from the door handle and turned to face her. Her gaze seemed troubled, and Viktor felt the obligation to circle his fingers around her clammy palm. At the contact, her expression softened. “I didn’t have the chance to tell you yesterday, but– you know we’re with you, right?”

 

Tired, Viktor tilted his head. “I don’t understand.” 

 

Meni swallowed, taking his hands in hers now. “No matter what,” she promised with a whisper. “Until the very end.” 

 

Viktor’s throat tightened. Her words would have eviscerated him regardless, but today of all days, especially. 

 

“This is not yours to carry alone. Don’t forget that, okay?”  

 

Viktor pursed his lips, a single tear falling. He chuckled through it, diffusing some tension. “I cry most when around you.” 

 

Her eyes were glistening, but she smiled through it as well. “I’m terribly sorry about that.”

 

Viktor was shaking his head as he fell into her embrace. “Thank you,” he let out with enormous strain.

 

As Viktor exited the vehicle, she rolled the passenger window down. Viktor bent over slightly to meet her gaze. “I’m trying a zaunite recipe today! It’ll be ready by the time you come home.” 

 

Viktor gave her a faint smile. “I’ll be looking forward to it all day.” 

///

Jayce's mind was silent.

 

The kind of eerie quiet that only truly existed after the most upending of storms. 

 

Jayce had panicked. He'd fled, he'd hid, he'd lied.

 

As he walked toward the lab, dread viciously coiled in his gut, seeping into his soul and whispering for him to turn back.

 

Jayce couldn't quite comprehend why shame was ruthlessly stirring within.

 

But he couldn't run. Not from this. Not from Viktor. He deserved an explanation, at the very least. 

 

Even if Jayce had no clue– of anything at all. 

 

He imagined opening his mouth and a dust cloud coming out of it.

 

What was he to say? How was he to act?

 

Jayce's entire sense of self was crumbling around him and he was desperate for some sort of rule book that would facilitate clear procedure. 

 

He'd always been straight. There had never been any question about whether or not he could be something more.  

 

But last night…

 

The moment he'd sensed those golden eyes on him, he'd been at their mercy. Completely and irrevocably.

 

Something about being the source of Viktor’s pleasure had awoken something in him. He had never considered that Viktor could ever see him in that light. That Jayce could, too, and have it mean no harm. 

 

The way his body had felt when he'd sensed Viktor analysing him, taking him in, responding with clear enjoyment, coaxing him– it had burned Jayce to a crisp.

 

The best orgasm of his life.

 

The sort that was shattering his entire concept of reality.

 

A sort of ecstasy from tasting an exception he hadn’t known existed. There had been no question, no concern. The moment Jayce realized that Viktor actually liked what he saw, it overtook him. All worries– out the window.

 

It was as if Jayce had been explicitly allowed, and that understanding immediately ripped to life an entirely new part of his identity, yanking it out of him with a violent thrash. A new part that felt like a complete stranger.

 

And sure, maybe there'd been other components, like the insane aphrodisiac coursing through his veins. He was certain that had played a massive part. 

 

But the truth was, it wasn't about the fact that he'd enjoyed a sexual act with a man that had him most befuddled– even though that was also the case.

 

It was the fact that it had been Viktor, Viktor, Viktor .

 

Seeing Viktor bring attention to himself in such a delicate and almost angelic way– Jayce had been lost to do anything but behold.

 

Jayce had known eyes filled with lust and want. But what he'd experienced in Viktor’s flaming blaze had been something else entirely.

 

It had been devout . He'd felt it in his bones. 

 

How Viktor’s knees had parted further in invitation. How he slumped in his seat, like a monarch, staring him down with nothing but unfiltered power, one Jayce had wanted to equally succumb to as well as tease. 

 

How badly Jayce had prayed for the restraints to break so he could crawl to Viktor. When he thought back to that moment, Jayce knew he would have. 

 

That new understanding rattled his entire consciousness. In the span of an evening, Jayce now felt more lost than ever when it came to his identity.

 

How unexpectedly turned on he felt when Viktor lifted his shirt, showing Jayce his own hard cock peeking from his pants, stiff just by staring at him. 

 

Viktor could have indulged in his desires. He could have touched himself as he watched Jayce come apart.

 

And yet, he hadn't. 

 

He'd merely gazed at him. Encouraged him. 

 

And simultaneously let him know that he too, was affected. 

 

It was strange how, by Viktor's inaction, Jayce felt so profoundly respected. Worshipped, even. 

 

Viktor had swallowed his lust, as if that were insignificant in comparison to the weighted need to keep his piercing focus on Jayce.

 

It was touching, as well as confusing, as well as impossibly hot .

 

And the fact that his body had any response at all to Jayce was ripping open a chiasm too wide to ignore. The thought alone was turning his knees to jello.

 

Another aspect he had never even thought to be possible.

 

It seems that even in this, Jayce was lost but to surrender to Viktor's hold over him. 

 

And, as with everything else, he’d… loved it.

 

Which shattered the solid foundation of their once-perceived connection.

 

Did Jayce like men? 

 

No, a voice immediately echoed inside his mind.

 

He shook his head. How could he have had an experience like that and still not like men? 

 

Maybe just… The one man? 

 

Something inside him recoiled, cringing at the thought. 

 

Jayce felt terribly guilty. He had always liked women, and by indulging in that moment and wallowing in these thoughts, he was taking up space somewhere he didn’t belong. 

 

And yet–

 

Jayce tried to picture, now sober, what it could feel like to kiss Viktor. 

 

His heart lurched, thundering in his ribcage and tightening his chest.

 

Jayce disintegrated the thought at once. 

 

Top priority: Salvage the friendship.

 

He settled his bag on his work desk with a heavy sigh. 

 

“Hey,” he called. 

 

Silence replied. 

 

Jayce was wondering if Viktor was momentarily absent when a shape caught his peripheral vision. 

 

There was a strange lump on the floor. 

 

When he slowly glanced to the side, everything inside him stilled. Every single thought flew out of his mind and the world froze.

 

There was someone sprawled on the floor, belly down. There were objects scattered, and a familiar crutch lay abandoned and out of reach. 

 

His eyes began to water, unblinking, when he finally registered Viktor’s face.  

 

He was unconscious. 

 

Red coated his teeth, painted his lips and streaked down his cheek.

 

Viktor's motionless body lay over a small pool of his own blood.

 

Jayce moved at once. His knees hit the floor hard as he skidded to Viktor’s side.

 

“V?” He asked in a high pitch, his voice trembling uncontrollably. 

 

He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to do.

 

Hospital, a voice commanded inside him.

 

What if he's not alive? What if he's not breathing? God, he doesn’t look alive. I don't think he's alive. Is he alive? Please, please, please, be alive. What if he suffocated in his own blood? 

 

Jayce’s hands trembled violently as he reached out, rolling Viktor onto his lap, cradling his fragile frame in his arms as he rocked him back and forth. He reclined against the cabinet, safeguarding Viktor between his torso and his folded knees, resting his head in the hollow curve between his arm and his shoulder.

 

"Can you hear me? Look at me, V.”

 

Nothing.

 

And you weren't here, you weren't here, you weren't fucking here.

 

"Please, please , look– I'm here. I’m here, now.”

 

His eyes were rolled back and lifeless. Jayce could only see a sliver of white and Viktor’s jaw swung like a pendulum as Jayce tried to comfort him.

 

Tears streamed down his face.

 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

 

He was frigid to the touch.

 

"Viktor!" Jayce wept angrily in his face, as if attacked by the idea that his friend had chosen to leave him behind. 

 

His free palm pressed into Viktor’s hollow cheek as if sheer willpower would warm him up, bring him back.

 

Blood was smeared everywhere– on Jayce’s hands, on the floor, on their clothes, on Viktor. 

 

His fingers fumbled, pressing against Viktor’s neck, leaving scarlet traces with every frantic press.

 

Viktor’s head naturally lulled back and Jayce let out a strangled cry, shakenly holding it up in the expanse of his palm and resting it against his bent knee with as much softness as he could muster. Desperation clawed at his heart and Jayce’s ears began to ring.  

 

God, they were supposed to have two years.

 

His digits returned to the arteries at his throat.

 

Nothing. 

 

This isn’t happening. This isn’t actually happening. 

 

His free hand flew to his pocket, yanking out his phone.

 

"Hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on," Jayce kept pleading with a cracked voice, tightly clutching Viktor’s limp body in the hopes that he could feel it, praying that he knew he wasn’t alone. 

 

Tears burned on their way down, mixing with the sweat slipping down his temple, blurring his vision, making Viktor seem even further away from him.

 

His fingers dug back into Viktor’s neck, frantic, pressing, searching–

 

Jayce’s thumb smeared blood across the screen as he unlocked his device. 

 

Still no pulse– just coldness.

 

Jayce kept stealing glances at his partner’s face, at his slackened jaw, his sickly color.

 

“Please, don't leave me,” he begged, his voice broken, tucking his still frame into his chest. “Please, V. You can’t leave me, you can’t–” He let out a muffled, high-pitched whine. His tears were dripping onto Viktor’s ashen skin. “I’m not ready, I’m not ready, please–”

 

Fingerprints covered in blood were left behind on his phone screen, marking each shaky press of skin against glass.

 

And then, there– a faint heartbeat.

 

Jayce gasped and immediately let out a sob of unfiltered relief, smiling through the tears as he pressed his forehead onto Viktor’s. 

 

“I feel you, I feel you, I’m here," Jayce wept against him. "I’m going to fix it, I promise you, we're go–”

 

"1111, what's your emergency?"

 

Jayce kept his digits pressed to Viktor’s throat, terrified to lose the evidence. Terrified to move beyond his soft swaying. He couldn't lose that pulse, not for anything in this world.

 

"Help, please. I need an ambulance." Jayce swallowed, eyes pinned on Viktor's pale, blank features. "Immediately."

Notes:

TW: casual drinking, internalised homphobia and compthet, imposed views on characters (possible mischaracterization), casual drug use, sexual power dynamics, casual sexual acts/environments, nudity, description of women solely in sexual situations, explicit sexual content, kink, masturbation, someone in a bad state, blood, interaction with blood, anxiety attack

///

 

jayvik nation, how we feelin? D:

Imagine him looking at you from across the room 😭😭😭 I feel you j

now we know what was in the proof video, ig TIHI how could anyone look at a replay of that moment and not see how much both of these people care for each other, its UNDENIABLE YOUR HONOR THEYRE SOULMATES

MENI CHILL GIRL damn

how did yall feel about the first sexual contact between these two? (I did listen to Padam Padam by Kylie Minogue on repeat while writing that 😌)

j: has best orgasm of his life (so far)
also j: but im not gay????? I DONT UNDERSTAND
THOSE WERE SOME PRETTY GAY THOUGHTS THO DUDE but idk call me crazy

And just to clarify, him ignoring the girls was consensual!!!! They were using him for their own power dynamic between them and everyone involved enthusiastically knew what they were getting into. Jayce was crazy horny with the drug and said yes because itch was itching. Clearly. The man drooled all over himself when he found the right spot 😂😂😂 (the spot being v)

YAY FOR BLOWIEEEEE THE NONSENSICAL MACHINE THANKS FOR PUTTING UP WITH THE TERRIBLE SCIENCE SO FAR

also can you tell gio was created only for jayce to start acting jelly HAHA

and still no kiss tho cause what are we doing here? thats right, suffering

Also let's pretend somewhere in the flashbacks that they befriend sky and sevika, it's just off screen x)

now for the tragedy :')

I hope you're all doing fantastic!

As always, any feedback and/or overall opinion is not only welcome, but deeply motivating and appreciated <3 truly

tooodalooooo!

 

songs: j:exploding by mehro

Chapter 26: (F) How could you?

Summary:

womp womp

Notes:

TW IN ENDNOTES (!!!!!!)

HELLO BEAUTIFUL MONARCHSSSSSS!!! Hope you've been doing fantastic. Brace yourselves D:

Happy (?) jayvik!

FLASHBACK

 

Light filtered in, thin and trembling, like sunshine forcing its way through a dense canopy.

 

Viktor’s vision was unfocused, and his head felt untethered. 

 

Through slitted eyes, Viktor could make out the sharp glare of a white bulb overhead. It was merciless, punishing, and the urge to raise his arm to shield his vision was immediate.

 

No response came from his phantom limbs. The burning light remained. 

 

Faint sounds began to trickle their way into his consciousness, one that Viktor was currently experiencing as if he were fully submerged. Or awake within a dream.

 

There was a disquieting machine, huffing its breaths somewhere to his left, alongside the rhythmic beep of a monitor that reverberated with an unbearable pitch.

 

It was a familiar song that he couldn’t quite place. But one he knew he hated .  

 

Viktor did not recognize his surroundings.

 

When Viktor managed to blink, shadowy figures began to form above him– eerie, towering, swathed in pale blue.

 

Except for their hands.

 

Their white hands were drenched in red. 

 

Thick, glistening blood clung to their fingers and slithered down their forearms like painted veins in a curved canvas.

 

The creatures had no discernible human features or distinguishable textures, for all that matter. Just vague outlines of something humanoid.

 

As Viktor’s hazy gaze crawled upward, he finally made sense of the fact that every single entity was surrounding his horizontal frame and focused on his upper torso. Measuring, studying, deciding.

 

Viktor’s own sluggish attention dipped down. 

 

A cold stillness settled within.

 

He blinked.

 

The beeping quickened, merciless with its galloping pace, each harsh sound battering his brain loud enough to break his thoughts apart. Alarmed voices began to trickle through the haze, yet none were intelligible enough to be made sense of.

 

Viktor’s eyes were locked onto his chest in horror. 

 

A deep, clean line split his torso in two, skin peeled back to expose folds of tissue, muscle and ribs wetly glinting beneath the white glare.

 

Viktor could see his entrails. 

 

Panic shrieked in the corners of his mind.

 

What are you doing to me? He wanted to demand them. To scream. 

 

Viktor found no voice. He was trapped inside himself.

 

The room erupted in urgency. The voices were louder now, urging and muffled. As if they weren’t speaking words, per se, but violent sounds he couldn't follow.

 

It became clear then that Viktor was splayed out on a table like an offering. As if his flesh were nothing but a tantalising feast.

 

Viktor was completely helpless as he witnessed the desecration of his body.

 

Desperately, he hunted for human features, any that might resemble a chance of rescue. 

 

Despite the underlying panic, Viktor’s body was heavy and unmoving. Drowsy. 

 

Finally, he distinguished then that there were human looking eyes all around him, surrounded by slits of recognisable skin, agitated and fleetingly staring at him. 

 

Viktor frantically flicked to each one for help, but there were no hazel eyes he recognised. 

 

None. 

 

Only white hands, soaked in red, twitching, holding tools of dissection and torture. Those were coated in scarlet also, blood languidly dripping onto the void like melted wax.

 

I’ll kill you , Viktor tried to warn them.

 

Mercifully, darkness dragged him under before he could live up to his word. 

///

Viktor’s head throbbed. 

 

His body ached. 

 

And despite being quite tolerant to pain, this one was peculiarly different from his usual dose. 

 

A raspy groan left his lips as he slowly regained consciousness. The sound scratched his throat, reverberating inside his foggy mind. Eyelids fluttered, attempting to bring focus, as well as any semblance of meaning to his surroundings.

 

The infuriatingly white light sent a piercing sting behind his eyes, causing Viktor to immediately miss his repurposed sunglasses as he squinted against it.

 

At the recognition of that detestable bulb atop him, flashes of a vivid nightmare flooded his mind. 

 

With a sharp gasp, Viktor frenetically glanced around him, expecting to see monsters hovering over his frame. Dissecting him or sizing him up for a meal. Turning him into something he was not. 

 

A hand flew to clutch his chest and Viktor was received with a piercing pain, ripping another unexpected grunt from his throat and causing him to sit up and double over.

 

Once again, the relentless, mechanical beeping fastened, hammering inside Viktor’s skull.

 

A nurse rushed into the room, pausing by the door-frame, her face slackened in surprise. “He's up!” She called out.

 

Viktor, in a panic, wasted no time clawing at his robes, shedding the hospital robe before they took him hostage again. When he finally peered down, he was met with a massive bandage covering his entire chest. 

 

“What have you done to me?” He murmured, his voice raspy from disuse. Even speaking brought him pain.

 

People were flooding the space, but he wasn't addressing one person in particular. He demanded answers from the universe itself. 

 

The beeping kept accelerating. 

 

His hands were trembling over his pectorals, hovering and unsure. The surge of terror caused his fury to front, a familiar emotion that Viktor had come to rely on for most of his life. 

 

Viktor snapped, searching the culprits with a frenzy behind his widened eyes and plummeting eyebrows. 

 

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?” 

 

“Calm down!”

 

Viktor was blindly scratching at anyone who dared approach him, viciously punching reaching arms out of the way. One nurse received a hit to his eye, causing him to trip backwards and fall on his ass while clutching his face. Another was shoved against the wall, medical instruments loudly clattering to the floor.

 

“Sedate him– he's going to hurt himself!”

 

Viktor had no idea where this strength was coming from but, in this moment, he was run over with it as he fought for his life. 

 

Too soon, that strength wavered and he was led down onto the mattress, still panting. His head turned woozy once more.

 

“What did you do to me?” The question looped on his tongue with a murmur, his eyes begging to shut.

 

“There, it's okay– calm down, sir.” 

 

Viktor slid his tired eyes onto the first other pair he could find, desperation clinging to his every breath.  

 

The side of his face tickled as a sole tear slithered its way down. “Why?” He whimpered, his voice barely above a whisper. 

 

They stared back as if they were scrummaging for an answer and found none.

 

Despite the weight of his eyelids, Viktor fought tooth and nail to stay awake. What if he went to sleep and woke to find himself being carved open, again? 

 

He had to stay awake. To remain vigilant. No matter what, he must stay conscious. 

 

“We’ll tell you. Just get some rest for now.”  

 

And through it all, what Viktor kept groggily circling back to was–

 

Where was Jayce? 

 

Why hadn’t he put a stop to this? 

 

He must not have known , a voice in his brain calmly replied. He would have fought for us.  

 

His best friend would have fought for him.

 

For the first time in his life, Viktor had found a protector– and even then, it hadn't made a fucking difference. 

 

Yet all he wanted was to be next to him. If Jayce were here, maybe Viktor could go to sleep. If Jayce were here, maybe he could find answers for Viktor. If Jayce were here, he would not allow anyone to accost him. Jayce wouldn’t allow them to touch him again. 

 

Viktor fought sleep desperately, but darkness was sinking its claws into his consciousness. 

 

That major question tiredly repeated itself within the confines of his mind. For the first time since as far as his memory would go, Viktor heard a childish voice spring to life inside him, unexpected and wholly loose, lost and pathetically needy. One he had never known existed before today.

 

Where are you? Where are you? Where are you?, it frantically asked. 

 

Please, come get me.

 

I don’t want to be here alone.

 

Please, please, come find me.

 

Viktor was too weak to shut it up, so he became helpless to it as he effortfully kept his lids from closing.

 

But they were so heavy…

 

The alien voice continued to irrationally beg as Viktor succumbed, materialising words he would have never imagined coming out of him. Ones he had never had anybody to voice to.

 

Now, he hoped his one and sole protector would somehow perceive them in the wind. 

 

Don't forget me, Jayce. 

 

Don't leave me here.

 

Please.

///

“You've been asleep for nineteen days.” 

 

Viktor gaped at the doctor. “Nineteen?” 

 

“You fell into a coma for seven days after your coughing fit. You woke up two days after the surgery, but given the… incident… the medical staff chose to keep you under for a little while longer. It was imperative that you recover without further complications or injury. Especially considering how delicate the first ten days post-op are.”

 

Viktor was staring daggers at the restraints they’d placed on his wrists, tying him down to the bed.

 

“What am I recovering from, exactly?” He quietly seethed between gritted teeth.

 

“You ruptured a blood vessel during your coughing fit, which put you in a hypercapnic coma.”

 

Viktor drew a slow, measured breath, forcing the simmering anger to back down in order to gather as much information as possible.

 

“That does not fully answer my question, doctor.”

 

She hesitated, long enough to demonstrate discomfort, before she continued. 

 

“We’ve inserted a mechanical implant into your lungs,” she explained, her tone slipping into rehearsed neutrality. “It will assist your breathing. It’s not a cure, the disease will continue to progress but… it should extend your life. For now.”

 

Something was cracking inside Viktor in pure, unfiltered agony. 

 

Extend?

 

He swallowed with tremendous effort. “How was this allowed?” He wondered in a quiet yet lethal tone, his cold eyes locking onto hers. ”I didn't consent to my body being brutalized like this.” 

 

Her lips thinned at his choice of words.

 

“In case of incapacitation, medical authority passes to whoever holds the power of attorney,” she reminded evenly.

 

What? 

 

It couldn't be. I mean, that was the purpose of the document, but–

 

“You must be mistaken.” Viktor’s voice was low and slow, resolute, as he chewed the words right out of his mouth. “My emergency contact is Jayce,” he clarified, as if that would mean anything to her. 

 

The doctor flicked some pages over her clipboard, her eyes swiftly darting over the details. “Yes, we have here a–” She wiggled her nose as she translated the scribbles before her. “Jayce Talis.” 

 

Viktor's stomach dropped. 

 

“I don't believe you.” 

 

The words slipped his tongue before he could stop them.

 

But it just didn’t make sense. 

 

Jayce knew Viktor– better than anyone else in this godforsaken world, present or past. They had had this conversation before, and Viktor would bet his life that Jayce would never betray his wishes in such a blatant, borderline abusive, gut-wrenching dismissal.

 

Because if that were true, then that would mean…

 

But it wasn’t. Viktor was certain, beyond a shadow of a doubt. 

 

Jayce would never do this to him. 

 

The doctor studied Viktor with a benign pity drawn in her eyes. She must have seen the challenge behind his ardent attention because she stepped closer and leaned her documents so that Viktor could skim through them himself. 

 

His gaze quickly darted over the printed words. And at the bottom of the page–

 

Oh.

 

There it was. 

 

That signature.

 

The one Viktor had mocked on the first day of ever meeting him. Then, a sight to behold. 

 

Today, the incarnation of a nightmare. 

 

There were no words. 

 

None. 

 

A gaping wound was threatening to rip Viktor in half.

 

And still, even with the evidence right under his nose, a part of him didn't believe it. It went against everything their connection was built upon– of embracing each other without asking for anything in return. Of unquestionable trust . 

 

Viktor had signed the medical power of attorney after his last hospital stay, trusting Jayce to know how to handle his finances, and if it ever came to it, end his suffering swiftly. 

 

Not extend it. 

 

The pain in his chest was no longer deriving from flesh alone. It was like his insides were collapsing into themselves. 

 

Would you ever consider it? He'd asked Viktor. 

 

No.

 

A sharp breath left his mouth, as if he'd been stabbed directly in his aching lungs. 

 

Viktor came to the realization then that he did not know Jayce Talis at all.  

 

Because the man he loved would have, at any time, even considered imprisoning Viktor like this, forcing him to linger on and shackling him to further suffering. For what?

 

Viktor blinked, urging his tears to retreat.

 

“I'm sorry,” she murmured, catching on to the burning in his eyes. “We assumed you'd want to live.” 

 

Viktor snapped his gaze back to her, venomously glowering, despite his vision being hijacked with unshed devastation. 

 

She knew nothing.

 

“I want that document destroyed and that person removed as my emergency contact effective immediately,” Viktor finally stated, his voice cracking as something inside himself broke beyond repair. “I don’t want any personal information of mine to be disclosed. To anyone.” 

 

She scribbled something down. “I'll get a nurse in here to change your signage.”

 

His eyes burned, and still he lashed them in her direction. “I don't want him anywhere near me,” Viktor warned.

 

She exhaled slowly through her nose, the sound of the tip of her pen scratching on the sheet of paper painfully loud. “You don’t have to worry about that. No visitors are allowed in this section of the I.C.U.” 

 

Viktor kept her eyes fixed on her, assessing whether or not she was speaking the truth. Once satisfied, he nodded once. 

 

She lowered the chart, letting it rest next to her hip. “I'll come back tomorrow to tell you everything you need to know about life moving forward.” 

 

Life moving forward.

 

Viktor felt the need to throw up. 

 

He did not want to move forward. He’d been heavily counting on the fact that forward did not exist, in the first place.

 

What the fuck did forward even look like, for him? 

 

More of the same? 

 

This had to be a nightmare. It had to be. God, please let this be a nightmare.

 

As she left the room, it was evident to Viktor where he’d gone wrong. 

 

Under the release of imminent death, Viktor had abandoned his defenses and foolishly given in, thinking he had had nothing left to lose. Thinking he was somehow immune to the consequences of these idiotic dynamics. He’d permitted himself to turn into one of those childish imbeciles under the blinding spell of love.  

 

And by gaining life, Viktor lost everything entirely.

///

Every day at around seven P.M., a nurse stepped into Viktor’s room and stared at him from the threshold of the door. 

 

Words were no longer needed. 

 

Viktor shook his head. The anguish caused by recent events had cleaved him in half, the gaping fissure slowly filling with an unthinkable void that only cracked the wound wider with each passing day. 

 

She pursed her lips. “Can I at least tell him you’re awake?” 

 

“No.” He stared her down with nothing but absolute resolve, his tone acidic. “And you can assume my response will continue to be no, moving forward.”

 

Those two disgusting last words were spat out, pain tightly coiling under Viktor’s sternum. But it was his prerogative to choose exactly what they meant, now.

 

She nodded solemnly. 

 

Leaving a couple of blankets folded at his feet, she left Viktor to his silent solitude, once more.

///

The days dragged, heavy and unkind.

 

Viktor longed to vacate the premises with haste, but the medical staff refused to let him. Patients who’d undergone major procedures had to be personally discharged, no exceptions.

 

Not that he expected mercy from a place like this.

 

In all truthfulness, and despite his hatred of hospitals and everything they represented to him, Viktor simply did not want to be a sitting duck. He despised the notion that he could be somewhere Jayce could easily find. The thought alone of facing him under these conditions, weak and half unmade, terrified Viktor. 

 

How was he to have this conversation when all he felt was wrath, one that was poorly attempting to cover other sentiments Viktor did not have the ability to begin to process at current time. 

 

A desolation so profound that the only person in this world who could possibly understand was the one to have caused it, to begin with. 

 

Viktor was used to being on his own, that had never been a problem. But in the wake of having experienced a semblance of raw connection, returning to his roots was disorienting. Silently shattering. 

 

Utterly necessary.  

 

As Viktor scribbled on some documents in his lap, trying to make sense of what his next steps ought to be, the sound of the television mounted on the wall filtered into his consciousness.

 

"–have it, the newly appointed Man of Progress, please give it up for none other than Jayce Talis!" 

 

Viktor's gaze shot up, his heart tripping over itself at the mention of that name, alone. It rushed into a thundering beat, banging against his sternum in both imprudent recognition and visceral protest. Viktor's breath was frail and his muscles contracted in warning, a merciless and unanticipated stumble into fight or flight. 

 

What the fuck ?

 

Jayce walked onto the studio with a broad smile on his face, waving his hand up high to the live crowd. Everyone cheered and screamed for him. 

 

Seeing Jayce was giving Viktor a brutal sense of whiplash. 

 

He hated his fucking face. 

 

He was so glad to see it. 

 

He wanted to smash it into a pulp. 

 

He felt the brainless urge to run toward it and weep until the world stopped spinning. 

 

An urge he had never had before. An urge he wanted obliterated.

 

Newly emerged nausea permeated Viktor’s stomach, probing.

 

What the hell was Jayce doing on television? 

 

Man of Progress?

 

As always, his shirt fit him like it was made for him. The suit jacket was missing, but it didn’t matter– he still looked infuriatingly dashing. 

 

Fury simmered to the surface, hot and bitter. 

 

Jayce shook the anchor's hand confidently before he was invited to sit down on the couch. 

 

Viktor reached for the remote and turned up the volume. 

 

"Thank you for joining us today." 

 

"My pleasure," he replied with an easy smile. 

 

How could he smile? How could he experience any semblance of positivity when Viktor was being decimated under his betrayal?

 

Did he not care about Viktor at all?  

 

I ended up at Shauna’s daughter’s apartment.

 

A small snort came out of Viktor. Perhaps Jayce not caring had been a common occurrence that Viktor had been complicitly blind to due to his own undying conviction of the opposite.

 

Perhaps not so undying, anymore. Stupid. That’s what Viktor was– plain stupid for blindfolding himself to the truth.

 

"Before we get into any of it, I have to ask you– are you aware of the absolute mayhem you've caused out there?" 

 

Jayce chuckled, low and full. "I'm afraid you're going to have to be a bit more specific than that." 

 

Even his voice, once Viktor’s sanctuary, now grated against his mind like chalk painfully scratching on a board.

 

There were some feminine woo’s from the audience, prompting the host to smirk. "Come on, he knows– don't you think he knows, guys?" 

 

More hollering erupted and Viktor wished, with every fiber of his being, there was a switch he could flick to blaze the entire studio to fucking ash. 

 

Jayce's amusement widened at the enthusiastic crowd, desperately calling for his attention.

 

"Clearly, you must know of the thousands of people who are madly in love with you." 

 

Viktor’s stomach roiled with such force it felt like his body was turning against him, more shouts screeching through his television.

 

Jayce turned his expression into a breezy smile, mischievously leaning forward. "I'm scared to ask where you're going with this, Huck." 

 

"Well?" Huck, the host, encouraged. "We all want to know. Is there a special someone out there?" The tone of his voice curled with a tease. "Or are you embracing your bachelor life?" 

 

Jayce laughed. "I'm in a very happy, long-term commitment..." He lingered, a smirk popping into existence. "–to my work." 

 

Voices of disappointment echoed through the speakers. 

 

Viktor couldn’t stop the violent fantasies as Jayce kept talking. 

 

Punching. Kicking. Slamming those vexatiously long legs with his crutch. 

 

Anything to bring that mountain of a man to the ground. 

 

The host laughed as they quibbled. "Speaking of your work, congratulations on your new invention!" 

 

Viktor's insides jerked, his unrelenting heartbeat swelling in his throat as he arched a brow. 

 

Applause followed and Jayce nodded with an upward tug of his lips, acknowledging the praise. "Thank you." 

 

"Is it true you can purify the air of any room?" 

 

What in the– 

 

Had Jayce begun to promote Blowie? 

 

Why hadn't he waited for Viktor's say? What was even the goal, right now? They had yet to patent it and do much of the paperwork. 

 

Had Jayce done it all without him? 

 

But, in what hurry? 

 

Ugh, this was the last thing Viktor wanted to have to think about right now. But, of course, Jayce was forcing him to. And with that, a fresh wave of anger surged through him.

 

"Yes, that's the goal." 

 

"And such a powerful team behind you, as well! It's quite impressive." 

 

Viktor’s upper lip curled with a slight shake of his head, confused as to why they would think him to be powerful, in this context? That was such a peculiar choice of words, even if he’d heard Jayce express them toward Viktor before.

 

"Absolutely," Jayce smiled broadly. "Mr. Salo has been incredibly gracious with his support. Hopefully, we can get Decontamitech available in Piltovian stores by the end of the year." 

 

Nothing registered. 

 

It was as if Viktor had woken up in an alternate reality. 

 

A cold laugh broke out of him, emotionless and loud. Incredulity was not even the right word for it. For a moment, Viktor floated outside of his own body, watching from above, and for some reason, that made the situation all the more impossibly funny. 

 

There was just no way, right? 

 

Right?

 

"Must be nice to be funded by the richest man in Piltover."

 

More cheering. Jayce had an impossibly wide smile, small lines crinkling around his eyes. “It most definitely makes it easier, Huck.”

 

And just as swiftly, the mirthless laughter was gone .

 

The information began to settle and Viktor’s body slowly stiffened. It was like a frost pouring painfully from his heart, spreading outward, crackling as it turned his muscles into solid ice. Each conquered inch an excruciating, deliberate crawl.

 

This was real.

 

There was a dead sort of quiet inside Viktor’s head.

 

The host reached somewhere behind him. “Well, Mr. Salo himself popped by this morning so we could give you a present, live! What do you think, folks?” The crowd roared and Huck grinned, delighted. “Should we give the Man of Progress a gift?”

 

Cheers continued to erupt and Jayce was quietly chuckling. 

 

“Ah, Huck, you shouldn’t have,” Jayce teased as he reached for the newly visible gift bag. 

 

After removing the decorative paper, Jayce reached inside and pulled out a mug. 

 

It was emblazoned with his newly earned title, along with an art piece of himself , grinning and waving to a crowd. 

 

Viktor found it abhorrent. Something he would have teased Jayce about mercilessly, under different circumstances. 

 

His throat tightened at the realization that such a dynamic now lay dead before him.

 

Chancellor was written in the back– the name of Salo's company standing comfortably beside Jayce Talis.

 

Jayce, elated, turned it to the camera, showing it off to those watching from home. 

 

As if he were proud.

 

Which only confirmed the horror story Viktor had found himself in.

 

At last, Viktor whirled to the side and, with a savage lurch, spilled his guts all over the white, pristine floor.

///

Since his release from the hospital, Viktor had been surgically efficient.

 

The final task on his list was to visit Salo– and that’s exactly what he was currently doing. He’d scheduled the meeting and was stepping into his office with purpose.

 

“Ah,” Salo let out, looking up from the work-desk computer. “Mr. Jedlitzka. I’ve been expecting you.” He extended a hand in invitation.

 

Viktor dragged himself to the vacant chair before him. “Mr. Salo,” he greeted as he lowered himself to the firm seat. 

 

“Happy to see you’re recovering.” 

 

Viktor swallowed his vicious retort. He was going to put in an effort to have this conversation with civility.

 

“Thank you.” 

 

Salo reclined, his chair giving way under his weight as he leaned his elbows on each armrest, intertwining his fingers before him. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”  

 

Here we go.

 

“As you know, I’m a co-creator of the invention you’ve purchased from Jayce Talis.” 

 

Salo was nodding. “Indeed.” 

 

Viktor gave him a look, keeping his repugnance from showing in his face. “I don’t remember signing it away, you see. Perhaps you can enlighten me as to what kind of deal you’ve struck over my property without my consent.” 

 

There was a calculated smile in the corners of his mouth. “ Former property, Mr. Jedlitzka. As you know, Mr. Talis was an equal contributor and he found that the best home for Decontamitech was here, with us, at Chancellor. Are you not satisfied with his decision?” 

 

Viktor forced the corners of his lips to tug upwards, a coldness seeping into his stare. “Not quite.” 

 

“Then you must not have the best interest of your invention at heart.” 

 

Well, fuck civility, and fuck this disgusting man, as well. 

 

Viktor snorted, the derision sharp in his voice. “Spare me the tale spins, Salo. You insult me by attempting such blatant manipulation.” Viktor’s smile was almost predatory as he tilted his head. “It won’t work as easily on me.” 

 

Salo mirrored the smile, self-satisfaction oozing from him. “A shame," he sighed, casually adjusting the pen on his desk so it pointed just so. “We could make use of your talents around here.” 

 

“Perpetually playing catch-up wouldn’t quite suit your complexion, don't you think?” 

 

The man’s gaze snapped to Viktor’s, that wretched smile slowly dissolving as the insult registered. His expression melted into a loathing that much better fit him.

 

Viktor relished it. He clucked his tongue.

 

“Bad look for the C.E.O., no?” The tone was dripped with mockery as he shifted his crutch to lean against his table. “Best we keep your skills–or lack thereof–to ourselves. Appropriating other people’s creativity and hard labour for a quick profit is clearly your sweet spot. Why tinker with an already perfected recipe specifically constructed to help you evade your personal inadequacy?”

 

A tense silence hung between them, thick with palpable animosity.

 

“The contract is binding,” Salo stated, matter-of-factly. “Given your incapacitation at the time, Mr. Talis took it upon himself to make the best decision for the future of Decontamitech. That’s how a financial power of attorney works, Mr. Jedlitzka– I'm surprised to have to explain that to you.” 

 

The cruelty was etched once more in his lips, in the shadows behind his eyes.

 

Decontamitech. What a fucking joke. The name alone was a twist in the knife already carved inside himself. His fingerprints– everywhere. And yet, equally vanished in a blink.

 

Salo reached inside his right drawer with nonchalance, taking out a pile of documents. “Mr. Talis even did you the courtesy of sparing you from any social obligations to the company, making him the sole employee under my care. You’re free to look it over yourself– in fact, you can keep this copy.” 

 

He dropped the stack of papers on the table in front of Viktor, the dry thud almost deafening. 

 

Viktor stared at that thick pile, the room closing in around him and purposefully suffocating. 

 

“I designed half of that machine,” Viktor gritted out between clenched teeth, his voice menacingly quiet.

 

Salo’s emotionless smile remained, unfazed. “We have total faith in our current team to see this deal through.” He cocked his head. “Especially, in the Man of Progress.” 

 

Viktor’s violent fantasies were back with a full force. He pictured swinging his crutch across the table, if only to hear the delicious crack of metal meeting bone. 

 

Salo, oblivious to Viktor’s train of thought, reached into yet another drawer for a smaller booklet.

 

“In the meantime,” Salo slid a prepared, rectangular piece of paper across the table with two fingers. “This is my one and only obligation to you.” 

 

Viktor didn’t even glance at the check, but the very sight of it made him want to purge all over again. 

 

He swallowed, instead.

 

“Will you make it accessible, at least?” He asked with a small, fervent voice. 

 

Salo chuckled. “That information is no longer your concern. Or your right.” 

 

The man stood, his movements slow and deliberate as he buttoned the middle of his jacket. “Now, if you will excuse me,” he said with that enervating hubris. “I have my own party to attend to.” 

 

“Will Jayce be there?” Viktor found himself asking.

 

Salo looked him up and down, a curl to his lip. Then, the corners of his mouth curved upwards into something vile. “Who do you think we’re celebrating?” 

 

He rounded the table, pausing next to Viktor to place a hand on his shoulder.

 

Viktor slapped it off. There would be no second warning.

 

There was an amused huff before Salo leaned down and murmured, “You were nothing yesterday, and you’ll be nothing tomorrow. I hope that eats at you when you remember I offered you a chance.” 

 

Then, he straightened and decisively strolled past Viktor as if he were nobody of interest, nobody at all. “See yourself out, will you?” Salo called over his shoulder.

 

Viktor stared at the documents as he heard that foul man walk away, the last hopes to save his invention trailing close behind.

 

It was lost. Everything– gone. His dream to give back to Zaun slaughtered while he’d been in no state to fight back. He'd gone to sleep and woken up to nothing but ruin.

 

And there was only one person to blame.

 

That contract was laughing at Viktor, at the uncontrollable shake of his hands over the hopelessness currently being fed by personal shame.

 

Viktor stood to leave, but he could not. 

 

Rage continued to boil, the temperature rising and fuzzing the edges of his vision.

 

Fuck it.

 

For once, someone’s blinding arrogance would play in his favor. 

 

Viktor moved quickly and silently, his steps and crutch barely making a sound as he crossed to the other side of the desk and took a seat before Salo’s computer. In a matter of minutes, he’d bypassed the lock screen with practiced ease. 

 

A wicked smile bloomed in his mouth as Viktor’s fingers flew across the keyboard, the rhythmic clicking of keys sending him into a familiar trance as he set to work. 

 

Within moments, he had slipped a devastating malware. 

 

It wouldn’t cripple it immediately, but by morning, Salo would find his entire system collapsed. Files, corrupted and deleted. No sense of control or command over the home screen on any device directly connected to the company’s WiFi. Spam, spam, more spam– the multiplying kind whenever threatened with deletion. 

 

And, sure, why not further damage the firm’s reputation by having a virus send nasty, incriminating emails to every single address on their client list? Viktor ensured to include links in there, too, so they could pin the blame on Chancellor for spreading poison to other conglomerates with pitiful cybersecurity. 

 

A web of absolute chaos, all pointing back to this repulsive enterprise. 

 

After all, what could possibly hurt Salo more than bleeding money? 

 

There was no way this would not affect the organization’s stock market, at the very least.

 

Viktor wished he could be around to witness Salo lose his shit, but he would be long gone by the time everything here went to the seven hells.

 

Still, the knowledge that such an event would occur within the very near future was more than satisfactory, for now.

 

Especially since Viktor had left the faintest of breadcrumbs in case of there being an investigation, just enough to point to Salo’s work computer. The disarray would lead them back to a website dedicated to a particularly unsavory fetish– one revolving around eating shit. 

 

It was only polite to send a proper goodbye.

 

Once finished, he left the screen as he’d found it, rolled the heavy contract into a tube and slid it into his back pocket. 

 

Viktor roamed the halls until he stumbled into someone stressed enough not to question the interaction. “Hey! What floor’s the party again? I was supposed to be there ten minutes ago!” 

 

The guy was trotting, clearly in a hurry, folders in hand. “Second!” he voiced in passing.

 

“Thanks!” 

 

Viktor dropped his feigned enthusiasm almost immediately, letting his face relax into impassivity once more. 

 

To the second floor he went.

///

Jayce was openly laughing at a senseless joke when he felt it. 

 

That prickling sensation. 

 

He continued to smile so as not to raise any suspicion, but his gaze unavoidably wandered around the room, roaming over unfamiliar faces, searching for something he was not yet aware of.

 

There was an unexpected flash of amber and Jayce was trained to snap his attention to it. 

 

In the far corner of the room, like a calling to his purpose, there was–

 

Viktor.

 

Viktor was here ?!

 

Jayce forgot his manners entirely, leaving the conversation he’d been participating in without obvious prompt and beelining toward his partner, his chest imploding with a mix of emotions that were difficult to make sense of: relief, worry, ecstasy, confusion, exhilaration, concern, concern, concern. Exuberance.

 

Just the thought of embracing him acted as a mighty wind under his moving feet. 

 

Jayce hadn’t heard Viktor’s rich, deep voice in over three weeks. He hadn’t spoken to him, he hadn’t seen him, he hadn’t joked with him. 

 

Jayce hadn’t been in Viktor’s presence in over three weeks. 

 

It had been driving him mad . 

 

It was confusing to admit he’d missed feeling his touch– horribly. 

 

That graze of cool skin, seeking comfort in his own scalding touch. That safety of immediately recognising he was both protective and protected. Jayce had never realized how deeply he’d come to rely on it, how much it truly anchored him.

 

It was more than that, of course. Jayce missed him – he missed his friend, deeply.

 

Viktor’s snark, his bickering, his secretly kind smile, his ingenious, the cacophony of that rowdy laughter nobody but Jayce seemed to be privy to. Nearing a month without it had been its own form of unexpected punishment. 

 

Seeing Viktor from across the room had been the first, clean breath Jayce had taken since the last time he’d seen him– limp, in his arms.

 

Jayce shook the memory from his head as a wide smile overtook his mouth.

 

Viktor was here.

 

God, god, god– he was awake and on his feet. The sheer disbelief of it, considering Jayce had been under the impression he’d been unconscious in the hospital still, was burning his eyes with anticipation. 

 

There was a brief moment where he considered whether this could be a dream. 

 

"Viktor?" Jayce called out as he approached him. "Oh my God, you're–" Jayce rushed to embrace him, grabbing his angular shoulders and softly pressing his partner to his chest. “– alive ,” he finished wetly.

 

Joy crackled through his veins at the much-needed proximity, almost to prove to his own nervous system that Viktor was here and breathing and recovering. So much so that Jayce couldn’t help but close his eyes as he nuzzled his nose into the side of Viktor’s neck, taking in his natural scent, one he was now becoming aware he’d missed just as profoundly. 

 

Oh, god, oh god, oh god–

 

Yet–

 

Something was… off.

 

For the first time, the contact between them felt stone-cold.

 

Viktor did not return the embrace. He simply stood there, and Jayce had the feeling of hugging something empty and lifeless.

 

Jayce pulled away, his hand falling to the side of Viktor's neck, thumb grazing the soft skin of his throat. He searched his face as he asked, "What are you doing here? Are you okay? For how long have you been awake, should you be out of bed? I've been going to the hospital every day, but they wouldn’t let me in to see you." 

 

The moment their gazes locked, a shiver ran all the way down Jayce’s spine. 

 

His partner slapped his hand away from him and gave Jayce a brutal shove.

 

Confused, Jayce willingly took a step back. Blinked. 

 

There was an unfiltered ire behind his eyes. A loathing Jayce had never seen behind any expression before. 

 

Let alone Viktor’s. Even when he’d been upset, he’d been infuriatingly calm.

 

And that vicious glare was directed towards him .

 

Viktor spat at his feet. 

 

"How could you?" 

 

Jayce stared at that splotch, languidly slipping down the side of his newly polished shoe. A terrifying confusion took hold. 

 

"Huh?" 

 

Viktor was pressing his teeth together, brows plunged above a merciless stare. "You bastard," he shot out, cut-throat in his tone. "How could you do this to me?" 

 

Discreetly, Viktor pulled down his collar, enough to show a white bandage peeking beneath his collarbones. 

 

Jayce followed the movement, finally comprehending what Viktor was referring to. Yet, instead of clarification, it only deepened his incertitude, which resulted in a slight shake of his head. “To you?”

 

The only response to his incredulity were sharp, ragged breaths, fleeing through bared teeth. Jayce’s stomach clenched at the sight. 

 

It was at this moment that Jayce realized he’d never witnessed Viktor actually angry before. 

 

Viktor took a step forward and with every sentence, Jayce faltered further back. “You sliced me open and damned the one good thing I managed to bring into this world.”

 

Jayce couldn’t stop blinking, each accusation feeling like a murderous slap. Viktor, however, was relentless, looking up at him with unyielding defiance.

 

“You sold it!” He seethed. “You liar. You sacrificed my work, my passion, my, my–” Viktor swallowed whatever words were going to come out, the purse of his lips just as ruinous as the ignited devastation in his eyes. “For what? Money? Glory? Having fans drool all over you?” 

 

What?

 

Fans?!

 

Jayce’s eyes were impossibly wide. “V, I did it for you,” he shared with a low tone, glancing around to ensure nobody in his new place of work could sense Viktor's abrupt confrontation. 

 

A frigid, astonished huff broke out of him and Viktor didn’t stutter. “You did it for yourself.” 

 

Jayce’s brows furrowed, his voice trembling with uncertainty. “I wanted you to live,” Jayce clarified in a hushed rush.

 

Viktor threw daggers with his response. “You wanted me to survive. Like a biological accessory, kept alive for your own commodity.”

 

They found their mark, words piercing his chest with a new stab wound, now internally bleeding. Jayce searched Viktor’s eyes, attempting to find his friend somewhere in there.

 

“How… can you say that?” 

 

“How could you do this?” He rasped quietly, profound disappointment coating his glower. Jayce was beginning to overheat under his clothes, waves of warmth travelling through his body. “I told you no.”

 

Desperation began to take hold, heartbeat frantically thumping in Jayce’s ears, vision sharpening while simultaneously blurring his peripherals. “You told me you didn’t want to feel any pain,” Jayce nervously reminded. "I made sure they kept you asleep for that very reason!” 

 

“How generous. How does it feel to colossally fail?”

 

A new kind of hurt flared inside Jayce's chest. It was a visceral coil, robbing any air left in his lungs. 

 

The words rattled Jayce entirely.

 

The urge to cry struck him, so Jayce took a deep breath instead. And another. It clawed desperately at his composure, but Jayce leashed it to keep himself intact. His nape burned and his hands shook. 

 

Unavoidably, his eyes darted through Viktor, scanning his body, the bags under his eyes, his posture, anything that could offer whatever clarification he was clearly missing.

 

“A-are you in pain?” He chose to ask.

 

Viktor simply stared at him, befuddled. 

 

“What happened to we’re a team?” Viktor continued with a mocking bite. He leaned forward once more, the condemnation clear in his low tone. “I thought we were partners.”

 

Frustration snapped Jayce out of his stupor. “We are!”

 

Viktor’s jaw tightened, the muscle in his mandible ticking with an inner reckoning. His friends' eyes narrowed in deep disbelief, and the ache in his voice was sharpened by the sting of betrayal. 

 

“And still, two of the biggest decisions of my life, you chose to make on your own.” 

 

"V. You weren't waking up, I–" 

 

Viktor cut him off, raising a hand with a sharp, almost dismissive motion. His fingers curled slightly mid-air.

 

"So," Viktor began to summarise, a calm thrumming with obvious detestation. 

 

The glimmer in his eyes was deadly, causing Jayce to hold his breath as his heart continued its deafening gallop.

 

_ _ _

"–you immediately chose to sell–" Jayce took another small step back, the coward. "–the one thing–" Viktor took a moment, holding his emotions in a mortal grip. "–I asked you to look after?" He finished with difficulty.

 

Viktor had felt anger many times in his life.

 

When he was robbed of an innocent, carefree childhood. When he'd had to eat paper tissues in order to keep himself from starving in the orphanage. Later, when he was forced to hide crackers under his pillow, so nobody would find them or take them away. When that act of survival caused ants to find his bed and invade it. When the only loving memory he had of his mother blurred to the point where he only remembered the loving gesture, but not her face. When he lost the ability to run without having an attack. When he needed his first cane at ten years old. When he was forced to prove his worth so people would see beyond disability, beyond sexuality, beyond nationality. When he was told he was dying, a slow death, at seventeen. 

 

None of them had ever come close to this. 

 

It was as if all of the wrath he'd accumulated throughout his entire existence had merged into one, massive feeling– and it was simmering under his skin in warning. 

 

Viktor was consumed by the heat of it. Like a star about to implode and take everything with it.

 

“The one thing–” Viktor’s voice broke slightly as he fought to keep the tears at bay, his throat swelling with the effort. And still, he swallowed it down. “–you vowed to protect?”

 

Jayce was gaping at him. His lips parted as if to speak, but no words came– only the raw flicker of fear, as if he were seeing something he couldn’t quite comprehend.

 

And the way he kept glancing around to check if anyone was listening was boiling Viktor’s blood even further.

 

Then, Jayce's green eyes flashed as his brows decisively plummeted towards one another.

 

“You were unconscious,” Jayce finally hissed. “If I’d seen any other way, I would’ve tried, V. You have my word.”

 

Viktor’s laugh burst out, hollow and bitter. “Your word means nothing to me.” 

 

“V–”

 

“Stop calling me that,” he cut off, each word exhuding vitriol. 

 

Jayce blinked in surprise. “What?”

 

Viktor’s nostrils flared.

 

“I don’t ever want to hear that nickname again, least of all from you," he spat, his jaw locked to the point of pain.

 

And at last, fury wholly took over Jayce’s now mirroring expression. He stepped forward, closing the distance between them, as if daring Viktor to defy him. He bowed his neck, invading Viktor's personal space in turn as his hand balled into a proper fist at his side, fingers twitching as if they were itching to do something. 

 

Viktor was secretly praying they would. He could feel the warmth emanating from Jayce’s body, and for the very first time, he despised it.

 

Jayce’s voice dropped dangerously low. “V is mine to own,” he claimed with quiet savagery, his gaze sharp and unyielding. Viktor’s treacherous stomach clenched at the sudden dominance before him. “I came up with it, remember?” Viktor could feel Jayce's hot breath brushing his face. “Why should I be forbidden to use it?”

 

Viktor’s throat tightened, and his heart was thumping so fiercely that for a moment he wondered if it would climb out of his mouth. Pure repugnance roiled in his gut.

 

How. Dare. He?

 

His? To own?

 

Just like–

 

“This is not the time nor the place. We can talk about this later,” Jayce interrupted with a murmur, eyes still darting around the room.

 

“No,” replied Viktor, matter-of-factly. “We cannot.” 

 

Jayce let out a small sound of exasperation. “You’re being impossible.” 

 

And the delayed processing of what Jayce had just said urged Viktor to shatter their connection entirely.

 

“I hate you,” Viktor sneered, leaning further into his face. This time, Jayce didn’t escape from it. “I fucking hate you.” 

 

Those hazel eyes were equally feral. “Fine, then I’ll hate you, too. Is that what you fucking want?! How can you be this ungrateful?” 

 

And the moment the word left his lips, Viktor’s breath hitched. 

 

_ _ _

 

Ah, fuck.

 

Viktor had a look on his face that told Jayce he’d said something bad. 

 

“Ungrateful?” He asked, blinding anger entirely evaporated from his demeanor. His voice was small, breathy and cracked. It brought an impossible ache to Jayce’s chest, even if he meant every word. “You expect me to be grateful?”

 

“It wouldn’t hurt, would it?” 

 

Jayce felt the slip in his control, a fissure in his composure he couldn’t seal. Despite that awareness, he was completely lost as to how to regain it. He wasn't even entirely sure of what was coming out of his mouth, but the need to protect himself was blinding.

 

He stood still for a moment, every muscle taut, heavy breaths coming and going as they stared into one another.

 

“You're a child,” Viktor announced solemnly, a new understanding coating his tone. His voice was rough, and Jayce couldn't ignore the crushing sadness flooding Viktor’s features. "Your true colors are repugnant."

 

More hurt flared, but Jayce had steeled himself in an impenetrable caccoon. 

 

Still,

 

My true colors?

 

To add to his mind rupturing confusion, Jayce suddenly wished Viktor would drag him elsewhere, that he'd keep fighting, shouting even, anything. Jayce knew Viktor was cunning enough to punch exactly where it’d hurt.

 

He’d prefer it to that devastating look on his face. 

 

As if what he said were beyond words constructed in anger. As if he meant it.

 

Yet what came out of Viktor's mouth was somehow worse.

 

“I'm done. Don't attempt to contact me again,” he stated in a low, steady tone. “Do whatever you want with our project, I couldn't care less. It's clearly yours now, anyway– you won. Congratulations.” 

 

What?

 

None of what he was saying was making any sense.

 

Viktor reached into his pocket and held a familiar check between his two fingers, high enough for Jayce to recognise. Without a flicker of hesitation, Viktor ripped it in half. Then, with another swift motion, he did it again.

 

Jayce’s breath caught, the sound of paper tearing almost deafening between them.

 

Viktor flicked the shredded pieces at Jayce’s face, like confetti thrown at a eulogy.

 

Jayce flinched, snapping his face to the side. The projectiles grazed his cheek before ceremoniously cascading to his feet.

 

He was too stunned to speak, or move, or make sense of any of it.

 

Viktor didn’t even bother to meet his gaze as he pivoted to leave.

 

Jayce’s hand shot out, a sudden panic interlaced with fury rebooting his entire system. He grasped Viktor’s arm, fingers gripping his elbow with edged desperation. 

 

Viktor, as if scalded, slammed his hand away with brute force, eyes enraged anew.  

 

DON’T TOUCH ME.  

 

The words hadn't been uttered, and still Jayce was punched by their violent collision all the same. He staggered back.

 

Just like that, what had once been something utterly precious to him, was now poisoned right before his eyes. 

 

For the first time since they’d met, Jayce was just one more. No longer allowed the privilege of touching him, only revulsion remained painted in every crevice of Viktor’s features. 

 

It hurt more than anything else they'd said to each other this evening. It split his chest open with a silent devastation that was too broad to make sense of.

 

Still, he opened his mouth to speak, but Viktor beat him to it, his body half turned. 

 

“I pity you, you know?” Viktor swallowed, eyes glazed and pinned somewhere on the floor. A small snort came out of him, and Jayce bristled at the humourless tone. “This path you're on is a prison. I hope you enjoy having people fawn over you and give you their praise while it lasts. Enjoy being their mascot, Jayce. Let's see how long it takes until you find yourself a carcass of a man. At that point, you will have deserved it.”

 

Jayce swallowed the invisible squeeze in his throat. "Viktor. I– Please, let's meet after this, let's just talk. Let me explain.”

 

"When it's just the two of us, no?" There was an unforgiving heat behind his burning eyes, adorned with a chilling curve to his lips. “We both know how you change your tune behind closed doors.”

 

Jayce’s eyes narrowed, anger bubbling anew. “You really think I care what these people think of me?”

 

In perfect timing, Viktor’s attention drifted behind Jayce, and that frigid smile remained, except somehow turning even more vicious. He gave a curt gesture with his chin.

 

“Daddy's calling.”

 

Confused, Jayce followed his line of sight. 

 

Across the room, Salo had a tilt to his lips and was casually inviting him over. Jayce sighed and shifted to face Viktor once more.

 

“I’ll find you,” he promised. 

 

Viktor snorted. “Fat chance.”

 

Jayce’s brows pinched. Clearly, Viktor was not thinking clearly and some space could be exactly what they needed in order to cool down. Maybe then, they could approach this conversation as adults. 

 

“I’ll see you in a bit.” 

 

Jayce walked off, leaving this heated discussion in order to make room for proper dialogue to emerge between them. 

 

“You're so fucking pathetic.” 

 

The words echoing from behind trampled through him, a new wound ripping him open. 

 

Distraught, he turned slowly, gaze clashing with Viktor’s. 

 

He found nothing but unadulterated disgust staring back. 

 

And without another word, Viktor swirled and vanished into the crowd. Jayce, sensing the urge to follow, took a tentative step, but in that precise moment, a hand was placed on his forearm.

 

“Here you are!” Salo’s assistant laughed. Jayce tried to smile, but he could feel it coming out as a grimace. “Mr. Salo’s been waiting to speak to you. He wants to make some introductions. Come.” 

 

He looked towards the crowd, eyes searching yet finding no residue of his friend. 

 

He'd fix it later. He could fix this later, when it was just them two. He'd explain, Viktor would understand. 

 

Jayce shifted towards her, a new attempt at his smile. 

 

“Of course. Please, lead the way.”

///

 

 

Once his professional duties were completed, Jayce wasted no time. He rushed out, determined to find Viktor. 

 

They had never fought before, and the hours apart had been nothing short of tormenting.

 

So many horrible things had been said in angered defense, by the both of them. And while Jayce wasn’t sure how they could recover from it, he was not about to spend one more agonising minute in that uncertainty. 

 

Viktor was his closest friend, and he’d be damned if he didn’t try to fix this in whatever way he knew how. 

 

When Viktor didn’t pick up after the third call, Jayce opted to text him instead. 

 

J: Where are you? I’m coming to you.

 

That familiar thread had wrapped itself around his core and desperately tugged, urging him to find, to mend, to start over, somehow. 

 

Viktor was clearly in pain. A kind of pain Jayce had never met before and had no idea how to soothe. 

 

But so was Jayce.

 

Still, he would try. If that’s all he could do, he would try. Whatever that meant, he wasn't sure yet.

 

Still, Jayce couldn’t rid himself of the memory of those cold eyes, depleted of any warmth or affection, glaring back at him. Even as he’d continued to move about his evening, supposedly interacting with his superiors, all he could see in his mind was Viktor’s dejection. His hatred . 

 

You’re so fucking pathetic.

 

Just hearing those words reverberate inside his skull made him want to curl up and weep. It was as if he’d been staring at a stranger, and that feeling had seemed to be fully reciprocated.

 

Restless, he chose to go looking until he heard back from Viktor. 

 

In every site he could possibly think of, Jayce searched for him. He continued to update Viktor on his location, offering the chance to find Jayce instead in case he was close by. The messages would send, but wouldn’t be received.

 

It made sense to Jayce. Viktor could have turned off his phone to gather his thoughts, make sense of his feelings or find a new approach to the argument.

 

As Jayce traveled from one location to another, he proceeded to call everyone he had in common with Viktor. Nobody had any clues as to Viktor’s whereabouts. Or at least, they wouldn't disclose them. 

 

The only tidbit of information he received was from his mother, who forwarded a text message Viktor had sent her hours ago. 

 

Dear Mrs. Talis,

 

I would deeply appreciate it if you could remove me from your health insurance at your earliest convenience. 

 

Thank you. 

 

Best,

Viktor 

 

It tightened the knot in Jayce’s stomach. As he was typing a reply, his battery died.

 

After confirming that both labs were empty, he wandered around the Academy, hoping he would spot him strolling the grounds for some fresh air. 

 

Nothing. 

 

Next, Jayce made his way to Viktor’s apartment in Zaun, his steps quick and deliberate. He rang the doorbell, the sound echoing in the night, but there was no response. From the street, he could see through his window, finding nothing but pitch black inside. No light, no movement– just emptiness.

 

Thinking that he might have needed to blow off some steam, Jayce decided to visit spots that Viktor had mentioned in passing– different bars, parks, even the ceramic shop Viktor used to frequent to soothe himself in a hands-on activity. Unsurprisingly, it was closed at these ungodly hours.

 

Every place Jayce entered, people turned their heads in his direction, at that pleading shrill leaving his throat with Viktor’s name on it. As if he were a madman. 

 

Jayce didn’t let the stares bother him, or deter him from looking for his best friend.

 

He even bought his way into the biggest nightclub in Zaun, remembering how Viktor had once mentioned that it was yet another spot where he could find some release, on the rare occasions he felt inclined to be overstimulated. 

 

It was a black aesthetic, with blue and pink neons radiating from the walls, as well as the bar. 

 

Jayce asked different people, shouting over the loud thrum of music and showing the picture he’d cut out from the scientific magazine– one he’d thankfully kept folded in his wallet. After every point to Viktor for identification, a shake of the head followed. Jayce politely declined any wayward advances, and eventually left just as empty-handed.

 

By the time he returned, it was 6 A.M. 

 

The void in his chest was quietly bleeding into the rest of him, like an irreversible blotch of dark ink dripping on a paper towel– a spreading blackness that seeped in and gradually consumed all it touched.

 

Jayce lingered near the entrance, waiting for someone to leave the building so he could slip inside unnoticed.

 

When the moment finally came, he dragged his feet toward Viktor’s door, every movement heavy, as if each one took more effort than the last. He rasped on it softly. 

 

“Hey,” he said quietly. “If you’re in there… I just want to talk. I'm sorry, okay? I'll tell you everything. Just open the door.” 

 

Silence. 

 

Jayce placed his palm against that familiar mint-colored door. A heavy thud echoed softly when his forehead came to rest against it.

 

“Please.” 

 

Nothing. 

 

He shook his head, letting the harsh texture graze against his skin.  

 

At the lack of response, Jayce finally relented to his weightful exhaustion. He leaned his back against the wall and let himself drop to the floor, settling his elbows on his bent knees with a sigh. 

 

Jayce made an effort to remain awake, but his head would continuously drop in sleep, jolting him awake with panicked thoughts of having missed Viktor walking into his apartment. 

 

But every time he came to, Jayce was met with nothing but sinking silence. 

 

Eventually, he lay on his side and settled against Viktor’s welcome mat. It was dirty and revolting, but he didn’t care. The coarse hairs stabbed the soft skin in his cheek and it was the kind of discomfort that quickly turned to pain, yet Jayce made no effort to move. A small voice inside him told him he deserved it, even if Jayce didn’t quite understand why.  

 

He slept outside of Viktor's door, hoping he could catch him coming or going. Jayce only stood to relieve himself in a common bathroom in the community building, his steps quick and anxious as he ran back every single time in terror he'd miss Viktor entirely. 

 

He stayed curled on his side, folded into himself, dozing off and waking again to find nothing but an empty, silent hall. 

 

At times, the hairs on his nape bristled, but he made no effort to check. He’d know if it was Viktor. 

 

The only indication that time was passing was the stubble that began to dot his face, visible on the rare occasion he glanced fleetingly at himself in the bathroom mirror.

 

One of the times he awoke, he found a bottle of water and a sandwich settled on the floor before him. 

 

He stared at them vacantly, but the thought of eating seemed like too much of an effort to attempt. 

 

Jayce alternated between sleep and staring at the tilted wall before him. The food eventually disappeared from sight.

 

The next time he awoke, he found a pair of shoes staring in his direction. They were deep blue, orthopedic. Thin, pale ankles emerged from them and disappeared out of sight.

 

“Are you alright, boy?” A frail voice asked. 

 

Jayce perceived it as if it were coming from a different room. He wondered when shoes had developed the ability to speak.

 

He blinked once in response. 

 

There was a quiet lull, yet the shoes remained. 

 

Have you seen him? He tried to ask. 

 

There was only a sigh in response, and he watched as those shoes turned to the side and disappeared out of sight. 

 

He could sense a pungent scent, and Jayce couldn’t tell whether it was the mat or himself. It made no difference, either way. He wouldn’t be going anywhere.

 

Jayce shut his eyes once more, letting the now familiar prickling of the mat lull him into merciful unconsciousness. 

 

The shoes returned on a different occasion. Jayce woke to the sound of their shuffling before they came into view. 

 

There was a heavy pause.

 

“Aren’t you cold?” 

 

There was that voice again, floating without a clear source.

 

Tired, he resigned to its interrogation, blinking twice.

 

There was a tight exhale.

 

Viktor. Where? Where? Viktor, where?

 

His questions went unanswered. 

 

Those shoes pointed in his direction as if even they expected more from Jayce. The presumption spiked a familiar pain in his chest.

 

“Come inside, you look sickly.” There was a new quietness to the voice, and still Jayce felt nothing. “It’s my birthday today, kiddo. I can feed you some cake, if you want. But you gotta get up from the floor for that.”

 

He didn't have the energy to respond, so he didn't. The talking shoes didn’t seem to understand him, either way. Jayce simply gazed at nothing, his hands coiled over his chest, clutching himself. 

 

“No one lives here anymore,” it said cruelly.

 

No , Jayce responded tiredly in his mind. Viktor wouldn’t leave like this. He’ll be back. He’s coming back, you’ll see.

 

Still, nothing came out of his mouth. Talking suddenly seemed like it would take an insurmountable effort, and for a moment, Jayce wondered if this is how Viktor had felt during the days he’d been nonverbal. 

 

Once again, the shoes left Jayce alone with the crushing quiet of that hallway. One that was slowly turning into his coffin.

 

How does it feel to colossally fail?

 

The blackness was like a drip on stone, slowly eroding it under its persistence. It was eating away at him, a hole carved deeper by the minute, enveloping every inch of his being with a ruthless nothingness. 

 

He let it. 

 

Time ticked, and still Jayce stayed, immobile across Viktor’s front door. There was no immediate way for him to know how long it had been. He just knew he had to stay– just in case.

 

You’re so fucking pathetic.

 

A cold current filtered every now and then through the gaps in his clothes, turning his body to ice.

 

He let it.

 

The next time those shoes appeared, they found him in the exact same position. They did not immediately speak, as they had before. 

 

Instead, shaky knees found their way to his line of sight, accompanied by effortful sounds.

 

There was a moment filled with silence before the tender voice said, “Come now, boy. You must get up."

 

Jayce said nothing. Did nothing. He just wanted it to be over. He was begging this obliterating pain in his chest to either finish him, or finish altogether. 

 

I’m done. Don’t contact me again.

 

I’ll find you. 

 

Fat chance.

 

With aching softness, Jayce felt careful fingers dig into his hair. They petted his oily strands, removing them from his eyes. “No one lives here,” it repeated with a whisper.

 

And the sensation of those digits caressing his scalp broke something in him, because he finally split open. 

 

“He's gone,” he murmured in a daze, his voice cracked and raspy from disuse. 

 

Those brushing fingers paused in surprise, before they heavily continued, incentivised by his speaking.

 

“He’s gone,” Jayce repeated, tears welling in his eyes. “He’s gone.” 

 

Involuntarily, his face contorted, as if the agony he’d been harboring, tucked away inside himself, snapped free from its restraints and exploded out of him. The wound in his chest ripped completely open. “He's gone, he's gone, he'sgone.” 

 

No last words. No goodbye. No explanations. 

 

As if Jayce meant nothing.

 

Jayce was nothing.

 

And the pain of that realization demolished whatever spirit remained.

 

The anguished sob that came out of him was something utterly unrecognisable. Once again, if he hadn't felt the painful strain in his throat, he would've never thought that sound was coming out of him .Once he began, he was completely unable to stop, snot and saliva and tears pouring out of him in waves. “He’s gone,” he cried, burying his face into the lap before him.

 

“Shhh,” the feminine voice soothed. “I know, sweetheart. It’s okay, it will be okay.” 

 

The elderly woman curled over Jayce, covering his head with her tiny frame as she continued to pet him. As if without that careful touch, Jayce would unravel from within himself.

 

Heartbreak erupted out of him, and he was helpless to untangle his arms from his chest and circle her back, pressing her against him further as if that weight was somehow the only thing that tethered him to reality.

 

The stranger held him as he shattered. 

 

Held him as the version of himself Jayce had come to know, died in her arms. 

 

And so, Jayce never saw Viktor again.

 

Until he did.

Notes:

TW: body horror descriptions and components, blood, open surgery, nonconsented medical procedures (inaccurate too), physical restrictions, violence, nasty fight, severe emotional breakdown (abandonment)

//

The change in scene when V throws the check like confetti was totally Refyjen's (a lovely commenter) idea!!!!! She wrote it in the comments and I was like, my girl, you cookin right now 8) She gave me permission to take on her idea and change it :) Thank you!!! I was telling her that, in the end, the fic is going to turn out to be an accumulation of all of our fingerprints combined and I kind of love that.

///

my poor babies D: the divorce has arrived

I listened to "I guess" by Mitsky on repeat for the entire last section of the chapter as I was writing it, in case you want some ambiance. It's giving bella in new moon HAHA

how we feeling guys about the fallout? cause I get them both and my heart is crickity cracking.

by the way, thank you so much for everyone who sent me their theories on social media! most of you guessed many aspects! it was so much fun to read!!!

I also wanted to add that I made v passively suicidal in this au, but that I'm aware cannon v was all about ruthlessly finding a way to combat his limitations. But I think I took the feeling he had when he was about to "am I interrupting" himself, that helplessness and simultaneous quiet acceptance of his deteriorating condition, that wanting to end it entirely and just stretched it into a different context. Idk felt the need to say bc cannon v really, really fought to survive :(

I love when strangers get involved and are kind when they witness someone suffer. Although that old lady ain't quite a stranger to us :p now we know why they're unexpected friends!

And what about v telling j "we know how you change your tune behind closed doors" LIKE ARE YOU REALLY THROWING YOUR SEXCAPADE IN HIS FACE even if it goes right over js head of course

jayce turning into a celebrity, that somehow hits so goooood

anywho, I don't want to say much cause I'm curious to see what you guys pick up on without me spoiling my intentions HAHA 8)

I hope you're doing amazing. I hope you have the best week. I hope everyone is doing okay and either thriving or on their way.

As always, any feedback and/or overall opinion is not only welcome, but deeply motivating and appreciated <3 truly

tooodalooooo!

Chapter 27: (F) Interlude of the Inbetweens

Summary:

scattered moments during their 7 years apart

Notes:

TW IN ENDNOTES

henlo beautiful creatures!

this chapter was easier to put together because I've been compiling these moments for mooooonths yall D: its just a collection of very short scenes, very direct and straight to the point.

also, its come to my attention that some people might want to share a comment but are shy, or do not feel like being perceived/interacted with -- if that's the case for anyone here, feel free to add three yellow heart emojis (thanks twitter 💛💛💛) after your comment -- I will know not to respond to it, and still get to appreciate it all the same :') as always, do you monarchs.

also thanks for the 420 kudos?! (hehe)

have an amazing week guys, happy jayvik reading and see you soon :') take care!!

1 hour and 30 minutes after the fallout.

Trees blurred past the train window as Viktor sat in silence, watching a familiar world slowly turn into a landscape that was entirely unknown.

 

He'd bought a one-way train ticket to Demacia, which was the furthest he could conveniently go whilst still being in a city by the sea. Somehow, the thought of not living next to a large body of water made him feel claustrophobic, and that's the last sentiment he wanted to reinforce at present time. 

 

With the research job interview in a week, he'd decided to put down a deposit for a cramped apartment he’d be sharing with three university students. Viktor wasn't particularly looking forward to having three roommates– three –but he couldn't afford anything else for the time being. Even less so without a job, or some semblance of financial stability. 

 

Still, it was better than the alternative. Even Zaun, once his refuge, now felt too close to danger. Too close to him . Which was yet another reason to be irate, one more addition to the list of things he'd robbed Viktor of. 

 

Viktor had a semi-understanding of how these big corporate deals went. Just the mere thought of seeing him on screen–ads, talk shows, billboards, his name trending on social media platforms–with that fake, unnervingly polished smile, all whilst living a life Viktor had helped him build, was its own horror show to imagine having to tolerate.

 

He had no idea how to do this. How to begin again. How to exist in a world he’d made peace with leaving behind. The relief of death had been snatched away from him and Viktor found himself in a position where he'd need to recalibrate his entire consciousness, by brute force.

 

Forced to breathe. Forced to survive. Forced to construct a new reason to want to stay alive. The thought of it churned his stomach like someone had chosen to reach inside his guts and scramble them at will. 

 

Viktor knew he had to– otherwise, he was fairly certain they would promptly find his corpse at the bottom of a ravine.

 

If he was being honest, that ravenous impulse had been just another reason to leave. He wanted to die in Zaun, be buried in Zaun, laid to rest next to his mother. He didn't want to have an unmarked grave miles away from his birthplace. 

 

So miles away he went, to avoid just that. 

 

Dying by his own hand didn't offer Viktor that grand finale of a life wholly lived, but a cheap cop-out, instead. 

 

Still, he desperately didn't want to find a new reason to want to live. It was just more effort to put in, effort he didn't choose for himself, effort he couldn't fathom mustering when he was already on the verge of mental collapse.

 

In the confines of his mind, Viktor could now admit he was secretly glad he'd been kept unconscious during the first weeks of his recovery, as well as for the removal of his stitches. He wasn't entirely sure what would have happened if he'd woken up just to be equally imprisoned by his healing body, too feeble to leave. At least this way, he'd had the freedom to silently pack up his life and move it elsewhere. 

 

Life moving forward.

 

That sentence kept reverberating within the walls of his skull, sharply piercing, mocking him. 

 

But thankfully, Viktor was beginning to feel nothing at all. 

 

Anger had selflessly taken the wheel, but, funnily enough, the farther away he got from Piltover, the more settled he felt. With each passing minute, his emotions thinned and eventually scurried somewhere inside himself where he couldn't actively find them. 

 

Gone into hiding, perhaps, in fear of what Viktor might do if he actively felt them.

 

They tucked themselves out of memory, and all that remained was an eerie calm creeping through his body, steady and cold and definitive.

 

Viktor didn’t fight it. He let the numbness settle in fully as he left everything he'd ever come to love behind, on a dreadful mission to find a semblance of a purpose in whatever lay ahead. 

///

Unread Letter 

My darling V,

 

I know you don't want to be found. But I need to pour myself out to you somewhere, even if it's just for me. 

 

It's been a full week since you’ve been gone and I don't think it's quite sunk in yet. I think my mind is viciously trained on the thought that you are out on vacation, or something of the sort.

 

I keep expecting to see you waltz through the door, side-by-side with my son, the sounds of your bickering and shared laughter filling the house as they so often did.

 

Now, the air is silent and heavy– as if the house were in mourning, also. 

 

All I can selfishly think about is how much I wish you were here. 

 

Jayce hasn't left his room in over six days.

 

He is not eating. He's not showering. He's not speaking. He just lays there, and I have no idea what must be going through his mind. There's a crushing nothingness clinging behind his expression and his eyes are devoid of any light. If he weren't my son, I might mistake him for a stranger. 

 

The other day, I passed by his room and finally heard some noise through the door.

 

When I walked in, he was curled on his side, holding his chest as if his organs would tumble out if he chose to let go. 

 

At that moment, my darling, I saw my child again. He was not an adult, he was my eight-year-old boy, utterly terrified that a hurricane was coming his way.

 

Except this time, the hurricane was you. 

 

Well, perhaps not you precisely. But the weight of your absence.

 

It's like a part of his soul has been brutally ripped out of him, and I wish there could be guidebooks for parents that specified what to do in these sorts of situations. When all I can offer is not nearly enough. 

 

What do you do when your everything is obsolete? When there must be a way to help, anything at all, and yet it completely eludes your capabilities? 

 

What do you do when you try, and somehow make it worse? 

 

When you become a parent, you quickly come to terms with the fact that a piece of your heart will henceforth live outside your body, forever out in the open. It’s a terrifying feeling. 

 

Undoubtedly, one I would go through again.

 

That piece of my heart is bleeding into his cradle. My son's pain beats in my chest with a phantom memory that was never mine to begin with. 

 

What do you do when a spirit crumbles before your eyes and they can’t fathom the will to pick up the pieces? 

 

What am I to do? 

 

Oh, darling. I do hope you're happy, wherever you end up. I hope you found a new home, and that it's warm and welcoming. That you discover people you can connect with. 

 

I know you're going to go on to do great things. I will be cheerleading from afar, but always a mere call away darling. Don't forget that. 

 

I hope you're not worrying about us. Jayce will pick himself up. He just needs to go through the motions now, adapt to this new version of reality.  

 

I just wish it didn't have to be this way. 

///

5 days after the fallout.

Viktor could avoid it no longer. 

 

According to his doctor, he had to remove the bandage today if he wanted to avoid his wound getting infected. 

 

There was a cold sweat slithering down his spine as he sat on the toilet lid, shirtless and utterly immobile. 

 

Viktor stared into the mirror before him, his empty eyes returning his attention with crept-in exhaustion. It was a complete stranger, the one staring back. 

 

He felt as if he'd aged twenty years in the span of two weeks. It was evident in the sharp purples beneath his eyes, in the recent smile lines he now despised.

 

Viktor’s eyes dipped to the silicone foam dressing pressed to his chest. 

 

He could do this. Quick and easy, in and out. 

 

Taking a deep breath, his fingers reached for the corner of the compress, cautiously peeling it off. The tug on his skin made his stomach twist. 

 

Dread was flourishing within with an ever-growing rot, unwelcomely invading the corners of the little sanity Viktor had to spare. Except there was nowhere to run, there was only the slow, painful task of learning how to pull out the festering weeds before they poisoned the rest of his garden. If they hadn’t, already.

 

The tantalising idea of letting his wound get purposefully infected sprang to mind, flirting with Viktor to let it take him with it with seducing whispers. And still, he found himself carrying the process through gritted teeth.

 

He stared down at himself as he peeled it all the way off with a satisfying tick.

 

Christ. 

 

It was gnarly.

 

A horizontal scar sat two fingers beneath his clavicle, spanning his chest. From its center, a vertical incision ran down the length of his sternum. He grimaced at the rawness of it.

 

The procedure of care was clear– the lack of any foul smell or pus was a great indicator of a good recovery. Therefore, he simply followed the recommendations from his doctor and fought against the queasiness at the sight of a body he no longer recognised, but still had to live inside and call his own. 

 

Once done, Viktor straightened his spine in order to avoid creasing the new bandage. As his gaze found his reflection once more to adjust its placement, his breath hitched. 

 

Viktor's heart began to pump frantically inside his ribcage, so loudly he could not hear anything else. His eyes were locked onto his upper chest, ensnaring him into a new realization. 

 

The scar. 

 

It had the shape of a T.  

 

As if Viktor had been branded. 

 

V is mine to own.

 

The surname of the person he was blindly trying to outrun stared back at him, etched into his body like a fucking signature. Viktor would see it every time he chose to look at himself, moving forward. 

 

His mouth was agape, as if something inside him was silently screaming with a mixture of horror, heartbreak and a vibrating wrath.

 

Swiftly, he applied the new bandage to remove the hideous sight with trembling lips newly pressed into a thin line. Viktor pulled his shirt back on with shaky hands. Without missing a beat, he stormed out of the bathroom, vision covered in black blotches.

 

"Oh, hi V! How was–" His lovely roommate attempted to greet from across the hall.

 

" Don't call me that," he snapped, venom sharp in his voice. The door to his bedroom slammed shut behind him, his window rattling slightly with the brute force of his gesture.

 

He lowered himself to the bed, ragged breaths coming out of him. He settled that detestable crutch aside and curled inward, facing the wall, arms wrapped tightly around his knees like he was desperate for any semblance of armor. 

 

His vision blurred. His heart hammered. His mind was continuously shushing itself, yanking any thoughts on the matter by the root before they could grow.

 

After a few hours, that swelling quiet finally took over.

/// 

3 months after the fallout.

Finishing his doctorate degree was beyond unsatisfactory. It was a duty Jayce forced himself to see through, and nothing else. No personal satisfaction, no sentiment of a life goal being accomplished, no pride. It happened on a random Tuesday afternoon and Jayce didn’t give it a second thought.

 

He didn’t even openly share it with anyone in his life. They’d catch on, eventually. 

 

Graduating with an honorary degree allowed for a salary bump in his new job at Chancellor, but that was pretty much all the change it brought to Jayce’s life. 

 

Not that he needed it. The salary bump. 

 

It was a three and a half year contract. Three years of ensuring Blowie could be mass-produced, and that the new prototypes were fulfilling their purpose despite the cheaper materials being used in fabrication. And three dreadful years of an obligation to show up as a spokesperson for the company. 

 

Given the fact that Heimer had a soft spot for him and a great deal of pride for the phenomenal accomplishment–as he called it–,they struck a quiet deal that would allow Jayce to stay within Academy grounds and in his own, private lab. 

 

In return, he would every so often advise senior students, especially those graduating in mechanical engineering, as well as give the occasional lecture regarding Blowie and the process of invention. Jayce imagined that his staying here as the newly appointed Man of Progress made the Academy look prestigious, so it was a win-win scenario. 

 

If he were to be candid, Jayce didn’t feel particularly qualified to be helping anyone, or offer guidance with any semblance of authority. But he learned quickly how to perform the version of himself people expected, and pretended to know what he was talking about with a fairly recent, perfectly designed, self-assurance.

 

Maybe it was a matter of time until they discovered he was a fraud. That, deep down, he too had no idea what he was doing. But until then, all he had the energy to do was continue on. 

 

Jayce was swift to come to the realization that he must be phenomenal at putting on a show, because everyone applauded and sang his praises despite the fact that most times, he was carelessly pulling his insights from thin air.

 

It always tasted like ash in his mouth. He’d outwardly smile and show confident gratitude, but on the inside, he could hear himself snort at their gullibility. Jayce wondered when they would see through the charade, like a large shadow looming somewhere behind him and robbing him of the chance to feel the sun. 

 

Jayce currently sat in his usual lab, looking through the new blueprints they’d sent his way for Decontamitech.  

 

They’d changed the design so that it could fit within a new AC system Chancellor wanted to set loose on the market. 

 

The quiet was pressing against his skin.

 

It was absurd. Jayce had tried to fight it, insisting these modifications would reduce Blowie’s efficiency by 312%. Where a full room purification process would have taken around two hours before, given the changes to fit the new product, it now dragged on for eight instead. 

 

They wouldn’t budge. It was almost as if they simply wanted the sticker on the box to claim ‘air purification’, but were painfully indifferent to its actual performance. 

 

A gnawing in his chest, stoking the void curling within. 

 

Jayce sighed, setting the documents aside as he massaged his temples. 

 

He looked up, his eyes settling on the empty desk across the room. Wrongfully bare and mockingly pristine. 

 

A painful laughter echoed in his mind. A sentiment that begged to crawl from the depths of his stomach, up his throat and out of his mouth. 

 

There was one person who would have known how to fix this. And lately, Jayce wondered if such a person had existed at all, or if they had simply been yet another figment of his imagination. 

 

How could three months feel like another lifetime? How could he have changed so profoundly in so little time? Jayce no longer recognized his past self– who he used to be had been buried under the heavy weight of responsibility, distress and a crushing silence.

 

His other research eyed him from the corner of his desk, static and eerie.

 

Jayce’s entire body shivered violently.

 

That vacant work station seemed to ridicule him, the quiet thrums of the lab screaming in I told you so’s .

 

In a blink, fury erupted in his chest. 

 

Jayce shot to his feet, chair clattering to the floor out of the sheer force behind his movement. His hand gripped the mug Salo had gifted him, and with two long strides and a guttural scream, he hurled it across the room. 

 

The ceramic wheezed through the air and crashed against the abandoned desk. Clay shattered into a mayhem of fragments, violently scattering in every direction. 

 

Jayce somehow found himself standing alone in the center of the lab, breath heaving, furious eyes locked onto that insidious furniture.

 

Despite the outburst, the pain didn’t relent. 

 

He wasn’t coming back.

 

Jayce would never hear his voice again. He would never hear that dry and unexpected laughter. He would never again feel less alone in knowing he had a solid partner who would unquestionably help fix what he couldn’t. There would be no more stolen glances mid-disaster, no more mischief curled in the corners of his mouth, tugging out pieces of Jayce he hadn’t known were there to give, in the first place.

 

In time, he ended up sitting on the floor, spine reclined against the leg of his table. His face was buried in his hands, panting into the darkness offered by the comforting bracket of his folded knees. There was a blinding roar that he didn’t know how to coax into coming out. 

 

And Jayce realized what the aching pain in his chest was. 

 

He was grieving.

 

He was grieving Viktor as if he had died in that hospital, all the same. 

 

Jayce allowed the self-pity to swallow him whole, as he simultaneously mourned the absence of his closest friend.  

 

How does it feel to colossally fail? 

 

The words sliced through him once again, his worst fears coming to life and actively haunting the narrative. Jayce had done everything he possibly could and still, he had failed. 

 

You’re so fucking pathetic. 

 

The voice was right. He was pathetic. Jayce was staring vacantly ahead, one leg slackened from his mortal grip and sprawled before him. That dense blackness spread with each labored breath, and it urged Jayce to admit that he couldn't reject that undeniable truth any longer. 

 

He had no clue how long he stayed like that: slumped on the cold floor, swallowed by silence, staring into a void in the shape of a familiar desk that never blinked back.

 

Jayce wished he could cry, at least so he could release the pressure that was burying his already limping soul.

 

Eventually, he composed himself with a heavy sigh. Jayce mechanically procured the wayward shards of his outburst and discarded them. He splashed cold water on his face. Ignored the ache in his chest, one that was slowly solidifying its presence. 

 

Then, numbly, he walked off to find Heimer and request that he give him a different lab. 

 

Any, at all. 

///

 

6 months and 2 weeks after the fallout.

“What brings you in today?” 

 

“I had a medical procedure done against my will. It’s affecting my work.” 

 

“I see. No wonder, that sounds very challenging. Are you experiencing flashbacks?” 

 

“Yes.” 

 

“Of?” 

 

“Different… things.”

 

“Could you give me an example?”

 

“I see myself, open on a surgical table, covered in blood. I see my organs splayed out.” 

 

“How often?” 

 

“Several times a week.” 

 

“And what happens right after you see those?” 

 

“I’m not sure.” 

 

“Could you try to describe what it feels like?” 

 

“Like I’m having a heart attack.” 

 

“That’s a great descriptor, we’ll come back to it. Has it changed your relationship with medical professionals?” 

 

“Yes.” 

 

“Given your expression, I get the feeling there might be more you want to say to that.” 

 

“Eh.”

 

“Go ahead.”

 

“It’s… untimely. I’m chronically ill.” 

 

“Ah. I can only imagine, then– it's like having no choice but to return to the scene of the crime, over and over again.” 

 

“Exactly.” 

 

“Do you have any other fears when you visit your doctor, now?” 

 

“I’m… illogically… terrified… that I won’t be coming out… the same way I came in.” 

 

“That they will take you against your will again and do something you didn’t want for yourself.” 

 

“Yes.” 

 

“It's not illogical. It's completely sensible given what you've been through. Sounds very distressing.” 

 

“...Yes.” 

 

“And do you have any connection to the party responsible?” 

 

There was a heavy pause. Viktor kept his eyes pinned on Dr. Laura as he tried to shove away the image of the man who had once seeped under his skin and crushed him from within.

 

“Just a random doctor,” Viktor lied smoothly. “Nobody of importance.”

///

 

Unread letter 

 

It's strange. 

 

Every so often, Jayce will talk about someone he has recently gotten acquainted with at work and I promise you, I try.

 

I take his word for it and I pour myself into the newly shared discovery with nothing but excitement and burning curiosity.

 

But... he's still a shell of himself.

 

None of these people set my son on fire and I'm scared he will settle. That he will choose to surround himself with those who will never inspire him to come to life because that feels safer, somehow.

 

After all, you can’t really re-experience death if you never come back to life, to begin with. 

 

You set the bar, my darling, and everyone seems to fall short in comparison. But in the aftermath of you, it’s clear he believes that the version of himself that existed in your company has gone extinct.

 

I miss my son when he was radiant. I miss when he was excited about life. I miss hearing him laugh. Gosh, I don't think I can pinpoint the last time that happened.

 

Hello, my darling.

 

I stopped writing because I needed to have a little cry. And now I'm not entirely sure what I was getting at.

 

I think you took a piece of my son with you when you left.

 

And you can't return it. It was willingly offered.

 

But, as his mother, as someone who loves his whole– I will forever miss that piece he so freely gave to you.

 

I see it missing in him, like it's been carved out. I’m afraid that if he doesn't tend to the gaping wound and rearrange his guts, he will never fully recover from it.

 

But I understand that doing that is harrowing. It would mean revisiting that pain in order to finally choose to let it go.

 

And I don't think my son is yet capable. Deep down, I suspect he's clinging to you for dear life.

 

But don't you worry. I know that piece is in there still and I will never stop trying to get it back– with or without his help.

 

That's my job, right?

 

Sometimes I'm not sure. All I know is everything was easier when you were here.

///

1 year and 8 months after the fallout.

Golden hues twinkled from across a room. 

 

Jayce recognized them immediately, like a picture that called him to return. He was entrapped by them, but for once, he was glad for it. He wanted to be cornered. In this particular moment, he miserably craved it. 

 

He couldn’t make much sense of anything else– the blurr clouded any other aspects of his direct environment, hazy and disorienting.

 

But Jayce knew those beautiful eyes. He suspected he’d recognize them anywhere. 

 

He couldn’t name them, or explain why he knew they were important. It was an instinct beyond reason, a part of himself Jayce had completely abandoned. One that now tugged with undeniable desperation. 

 

Pleasure crept into the corners of his mind as he kept his eyes on that flicker of amber, openly appraising him.

 

He didn’t remember the last time he’d seen that expression pour out of them. All he associated with them nowadays was hatred. Disappointment. Repugnance. 

 

No longer… what they were showing now. 

 

They were vulnerable and kind. Soft and admiring. They were heated. 

 

It was everything Jayce had unknowingly ever wanted. And as the sight slowly consumed him, that honeyed expression began to slip away, merging into a darkness that swallowed it from behind.

 

Wait, Jayce called out with strain. But he was tied, invisible bonds keeping him in place. Please, wait!

 

Then, everything went black. Birdsongs filtered into his mind, slowly returning him from deep slumber. 

 

Jayce let out a small groan, his hips slowly rubbing against a plush surface as he came to.

 

He didn't know much other than the fact that he was now awake, lying belly down in his bed.

 

And he was uncomfortable. 

 

Wet and sticky and–

 

With a frown, he swiftly thrashed the bedsheets away from his body and stared down at himself. He was quickly dumbfounded. 

 

There was a massive splotch permeating his underwear.

 

And his cock was slowly going limp.

 

What the fuck? 

 

A slight embarrassment crept in, warming his cheeks.

 

With a heavy swallow, Jayce got up from his bed, removed his sheets and went about his day as if nothing had happened at all. 

///

 

2 years after the fallout.

Please, no, Jayce pleaded as he pulled himself from sleep, familiar memories nipping at his heels, treacherously waiting to ambush him the moment he was unconscious.

 

Over the last two months, this had turned into a straightforward pattern: He dreamt of him. At times, his cock would stir. On those occasions, unless he managed to wake himself up in time, he’d often ejaculate in his sleep. 

 

Leave me alone, he begged his body, loudly groaning into his pillow.

 

His dick had no such plans. It begged to grind against the silky sheets, aching for release, demanding friction, whether Jayce was willing to give it himself or not.

 

“For fuck’s sake!” He snapped. He tore the covers off his frame and strode into his closet with fierce purpose.

 

And so, Jayce went on a run at four-thirty in the morning.

 

He ran and ran and ran, persistent in his merciless pace. Jayce ran until he felt his body want to give out: chest burning, legs screaming in protest, mind too exhausted to properly think.

 

When he returned, soaked in sweat and breathless, he dropped onto the couch, stared at the same stale wall and sighed, the unrelenting numbness settling into his chest anew.

 

Colors were duller. Edges were blurry. There was a conscious effort to keep his eyes in focus, but even that felt draining. Jayce left them unfocused.

 

There was a ravenous monster taking chunks of him as it ravaged from the inside out, eating through his ribs and chewing out his heart. Nothing was left behind except that corroding blackness.

 

Jayce’s body was the unwilling host to a devouring void.

 

How could absolutely nothing feel so simultaneously consuming? How could absolutely nothing feel so alive and yet leave nothing but decay in its wake? 

 

Jayce stared at it through a window– somehow both trapped and unable to look away.

 

The worst part of these lows was that his brain swiftly took over, probably declaring a state of emergency. It would turn into a flickering projector, playing memories, flashes, collected footage, in a misguided attempt to bring him some semblance of comfort. But Jayce didn't want it– not the comfort, and most definitely not the painful memories replaying on a loop in his tired mind.

 

But his exhaustion was such that this time, he remained completely hollow and unmoving as the images flared to life.

 

For the first time, he felt nothing at those either. It was like watching someone else's life through the eyes of a stranger. 

 

Soon enough and right on schedule, images of shimmering gold crossed his field of vision.

 

And despite the pulverizing vacuum enveloping him, Jayce's dick lived by its own wayward whims– a small twitch. 

 

"Stop," he told it with a murmur. Himself. 

 

It was strange, because he could barely recognize the man in those memories. Either himself, or the other individual altogether. Every picture was fizzy and hard to make sense of.

 

And still– Jayce knew every frame by heart.

 

Watching Viktor, breathless with laughter after making Jayce trip backward. His softened expression when he’d given Jayce the Damascus hammer. Holding him tightly to his chest in euphoria, pressing Viktor's body flush against his own as he stared up at that striking expression– one he had only had the strength to rewatch once after finding the video on his phone. The silhouette of his partner, patiently observing him at the smithy, his presence a testament to his stubborn loyalty. 

 

And Jayce realized it wasn't quite the images themselves that were haunting him. 

 

It was the feelings within, each providing a sense of unleashed, undying affection toward his best friend. 

 

Two miserable years had gone by and Jayce was exactly where he'd left him.

 

Jayce watched it all without moving. 

 

And then, like a cruel fucking joke, his cock began to decidedly pulsate in recognition, steady and persistent, reminding him that his body still lived– even if his soul, seemingly, did not. It continued to grow, slowly tightening the fabric between his legs.

 

And a surge of rage travelled through him. Of confusion, of perceived audacity, of exasperation as his body communicated something Jayce was still trying to piece together. 

 

With a brutish tug, he pulled his shorts down, his cock springing free from confinement. It glistened under the warm lights of his living room. 

 

That image alone caused a flashback to slap Jayce awake, recovering a memory that had been deeply repressed in order to survive. One of Viktor pressing his thumb to his own glinting head, lapping his tongue over it as he watched Jayce from across the room, eyes filled with tease and challenge and–

 

Jayce was viciously stroking himself.

 

"Is this what you want, then?" He asked his needy cock with a rasp, his movements almost violent, led by a surge of hatred. 

 

"Is this what you fucking want?" He gritted out louder, eyes pinned to his hand, moving up and down almost maniacally. "To have a dick in your mouth?" 

 

A wave of pleasure coursed through him as a confirmation of the spoken question, and he couldn't suppress the groan that came out of his mouth. His teeth pressed down, causing an unbearable pain in his jaw.

 

"You are fucking pathetic," Jayce reminded with a rough voice, punishing himself. "Take it, then– if this is what you want, fucking take it. " 

 

He continued to humiliate himself, furious, sick and tired, yet achingly hard in his fist as he at last allowed new fantasies to roam free in his mind. Forbidden desires that gripped him by the throat and forced him to succumb.

 

Jayce remembered, then. 

 

How he had once wanted to crawl to his dearest friend, on hands and knees, and settle under him. How badly Jayce had wanted to be the one to give him pleasure, any he’d voice at all. 

 

Feelings he had completely suppressed for years, smothered beneath the wreckage of a catastrophic fallout. Emotions buried so deep Jayce had forgotten they had ever existed, completely unprepared for the aftershock of new realizations when everything else had already shattered him into nothing.

 

Back then, this part of it all had become unconsciously irrelevant quite quickly.  

 

It didn't feel irrelevant now. 

 

The rediscovery felt like a long-denied answer to a calling his body had been begging him to pay attention to for years . A hunger he’d postponed, now clawing through him, refusing to be buried for any longer. 

 

His orgasm built fast. It was a feral reckoning and Jayce failed to rein in the loud moan, unrestrainedly bursting out of his throat, as the sense of bliss wholly overtook him. His body crumbled and locked all at once, pleasure ripping through him as he came hard, spilling between his fingers with desolate urgency.

 

Almost in disbelief at the sudden intensity, his other hand flew to try to catch the rest of the remnants of his blinding pleasure. 

 

And then, his mind went blank. Utterly silent.

 

All he could hear were his ragged breaths, echoing in the empty room. 

 

What just happened? 

 

Jayce shockingly stared at his cum-slicked hands like they were a crime scene. 

 

The void in his chest bled back to life, its return laced with a quiet disgust for himself. 

 

What is happening to me? He whimpered into his mind, painfully lost.

 

And at understanding that the ravenous numbness was taking him hostage again, it somehow caused a flicker of agony in his chest. 

 

And that was enough.

 

It was enough for Jayce to tumble into a breakdown for the first time in what felt like forever. He doubled over, eyes pressing tightly to the back of his hands as his fingers remained outwardly outstretched, purposefully keeping the revolting, sticky texture of his spent away from him. 

 

An ugly cry ruptured as he sobbed, confused and exhausted and with an unbearable sense of longing. 

 

Longing for a person who had disappeared as if Jayce meant nothing.

 

You're so fucking pathetic.

 

His mind, protecting Jayce from his repeated train of thought, blurred whatever came next. Time vanished. When he came back to himself, he was still seated, staring blankly at the wall anew.

 

Eventually, he stood. Pulled his shorts back up. Moved to the sink with bent elbows, refusing his arms to be any closer than necessary. He neared the sink to wash away the residues of his tortured existence. 

 

As he moved to rub the dry spent off his skin and down the drain, Jayce had another flashback. Another moment, another sink, where he'd been just as frantically scrubbing away at his hands, desperate to rid himself of the evidence. Except that time it hadn't been sperm– but blood. His blood. Encrusted under his nails. Soaked into his sleeves, dampening his torso. A metallic tinge he hadn’t quite known how to erase from memory.

 

Jayce turned off the faucet, anger evaporated. Now there was just a blank abyss as he stared into his upturned palms. 

 

In time, Jayce trailed into the bathroom for a much-needed shower, hoping it would be cleansing enough to wash away the memories of a pain, he suspected, would never stop hurting.

///

 

2 years and 2 months after the fallout.

 

Jayce remembered a feeling. 

 

One of exhilaration, one that he could only touch through an ever-blurring memory. One of time stopping around him.

 

Jayce didn't want to forget it; the thought alone brought some senseless terror.

 

He wanted it back. 

///

2 years and 4 months after the fallout.

Viktor was out for a stroll when something in his peripheral vision caught his eye.

 

He paused, unblinking.

 

Took a couple of steps back.

 

His nape was fiercely taut.

 

Bewitched, Viktor turned his head with excruciating slowness until his eyes came into contact with the front page of the magazine that had raptured his attention.

 

In the Man of Progress we trust!

 

There he was.

 

Smiling on the cover.

 

Giving his seal of approval regarding the new product that Salo's company was selling. 

 

Nausea permeated his gut.

 

Viktor didn't notice when he'd reached out to the publication, but his eyes were pinned to that face.

 

He looked... older.

 

Any other thoughts on the matter were blocked and out of reach. 

 

Still, an ember of anger flared inside him at the thought that no matter how far he escaped, he still managed to find Viktor.

 

"He's quite the man, huh?" Prompted the seller.

 

"He's a clown," replied Viktor automatically, his cold gaze locked onto those familiar green eyes. 

 

Isn’t green the most beautiful color you’ve ever seen?

 

The man chuckled. "You might be the first person I've come across who doesn't like him."

 

Viktor allowed his tone to turn slightly slicing. "That's because they haven't met him."

 

Yet his attention was utterly fixed on the page before him, almost as if he were staring at someone who'd magically come back from the dead.

 

Lips parted in quiet surprise, the owner took a step closer, casually leaning on the rack. "What's he like, then?" He asked with an obvious, burning curiosity. 

 

Viktor scoffed at his misplaced interest. "Arrogant. Selfish. Full of himself. Disloyal."

 

Ambitious. Innovative. Brilliant. Joyful. Loving. Fun. Witty. Warm. Genuine. Compassionate. Electric. 

 

The words flooded his brain without considering his consent, betraying him with a version of his past self he had been sure to strangle. 

 

Viktor’s brows scrunched and his nostrils flared. 

 

That person does not actually exist, he brutally reminded himself with a reprimand.

 

The vendor frowned. “Sounds like a real piece of work.”

 

With a final exhale through his nose, Viktor carefully deposited the magazine where he’d found it. “Quite.” 

 

After a slight parting nod, Viktor went on his way. He didn't look back.

///

 

Unread Letter

It's been over a year since Jayce has mentioned anyone new in his life.

 

I don’t know what hurts me more, my darling.

 

To see him with people who don't fit him.

 

Or to see him accept not fitting with anyone at all.

///

2 years and 6 months after the fallout.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to have to take you home.” 

 

Jayce blinked, slowly setting his beer down at the bar. 

 

“I’m sorry,” he said earnestly to the man who’d been across the room a mere moment ago. “I didn’t mean to stare.” 

 

“I’m not complaining in the slightest.” There was a salacious tease under his tone, and the curve of his mouth was sly and entrancing. The mole above his upper lip swayed with each spoken word, and Jayce was making an astronomical effort not to dip his attention to it. “Do you like what you see, or are you just curious?” 

 

Jayce swallowed, gathering his courage. “B-both?” 

 

This was wrong. 

 

All Jayce saw in his man’s features was another man entirely. 

 

“Lucky me,” he smiled. Extended his hand. “Mikel.”

 

Jayce leaned in, shook it. “Nice to meet you. I’m–”

 

“I know who you are,” he cut in with smug assertiveness. His brown eyes travelled through his frame, up and down, until they settled on his expression anew, an obvious want behind them. “Didn’t think I’d be running into the Man of Progress on my night out.” 

 

“Just Jayce,” he corrected, internally cringing.

 

He snorted. “Okay, Just Jayce. Wanna get out of here?” 

 

Jayce hesitated, glanced to the sides. “I… don’t have… a lot of experience…”

 

“That’s fine,” he cut off again, dismissively indifferent. “I have a bet with my friends that you’re not fully straight. I’d like to prove myself right.” 

 

Jayce gave him a broad smile, then. 

 

If he was being used to scratch an itch, then for once– he would do the same.

 

And if it was the Man of Progress the man was after, then the Man of Progress he would get. 

 

Jayce leaned in with a newly feigned confidence, inclining into Mikel’s personal space until his lips grazed the shell of his ear and teasingly murmured, “Let’s see if we can make you some money then, shall we?” 

 

He heard Mikel’s sharp intake of breath, soft chocolate wavy strands tickling his nose. 

 

A hand found Jayce’s thigh, decided fingers trailing up.

 

“Yes, please.” 

///

Jayce became quickly obsessed. 

 

Every time he was inside Mikel, his imagination would conjure images of a particular night, years passed. 

 

They kept their encounters casual and superfluous. But it worked, because it wasn’t quite as casual in Jayce’s mind. Perhaps the person, but not the discovery. 

 

Turns out, topping gave Jayce a thrill he could have never imagined. The thought of being straight now felt comical. Painfully so.

 

He craved control. Mikel liked it rough, and Jayce took all of his pent-up frustration and unleashed it into every thrust. 

 

It didn’t quite scratch the deeper itch, but it dulled the ache.

 

Over the three months they spent exploring each other, returning to the sex club became routine. Jayce often found himself in compromising positions, chasing after something he couldn’t precisely name. Hoping that maybe, in the right angle or intensity, he might rediscover a feeling he’d long since lost.

 

One that would stretch the fabric of time, relent it enough for it to wrap around Jayce's body and invite him to float in an endless moment that occurred in the span of a second.

 

One night, heavily drunk and flushed and tangled together, they ended up in missionary, for once. 

 

And Jayce’s mind played tricks on him. It was the one and only time they were intimate in a way that went beyond physical gratification. 

 

Jayce’s vision blurred and his high cheekbones, his full lower lip, his beautiful moles decorating his features… Jayce resigned in tenderly caressing them, kissing him softly as he moved inside him, their breaths mingling, soft whimpers spilling into Jayce’s mouth as he glided atop him. It was the one night Jayce felt compelled to attempt to cherish him.

 

Jayce dipped his head into the crook of his neck as he came, his touch delicate as his mind snared him.

 

“Fuck, V,” Jayce blindly groaned as he burst, the words helplessly tumbling out in the heated peak of his pleasure.

 

Jayce's breath caught.

 

He was immediately, inwardly mortified.

 

Mikel continued to moan loudly, perhaps in his own separate world of inebriated pleasure. Jayce moved to enhance it, stroking him until he inevitably spilled all over his hand despite the familiar void tip-toeing its way back into his chest.

 

For some reason, feeling that wet texture against his skin and realizing what had just come out of his mouth collided into one single feeling of panicked discombobulation. 

 

Jayce stared at the stranger’s cum, thick and sticky and languidly dripping from between his fingers with a grimace. 

 

Shit.

 

///

The day Mikel and Jayce parted ways was the day that Jayce finally understood that he'd unknowingly been, now without a shadow of a doubt, profoundly in love with Viktor.

 

That was almost three years after the fact.

 

He shoved the information into the darkness he nurtured within and never thought of it again. Barely.

///

3 years and 4 months after the fallout.

A blue-haired girl was sprinting down the street, a slight panic coating her expression.

 

Viktor was alone in the shop. By now, the owner was well accustomed to his presence, especially after the string of successful research papers that had led Viktor to purchase more canes than most people would ever need. Trusting him implicitly, the owner had left Viktor to mind the space while he went off to investigate the source of the deafening blast that had erupted nearby.

 

Viktor wasn't sure what possessed him to swing the door open and urge, "In here. Quick." 

 

She ran straight for him.

 

"Under the counter, now." 

 

The young girl scrambled to the ground and disappeared from sight. Viktor moved to a nearby shelf, pretending to browse mobility aids he’d personally have no need for.

 

Not long after, a group of enforcers stormed past the storefront. The doorbell jingled sharply as one of them stepped inside.

 

"Have you seen a young girl? Blue hair?" 

 

"Yes," Viktor offered confidently. "Just saw her darting down the street." 

 

"Thank you." The enforcer turned on his heel and rushed out, following his peers. 

 

Viktor waited until the street had gone quiet again. Then, he grabbed a chair, pulled it behind the counter, and sat down in a position where she could see him without needless strain.

 

When he glanced under the furniture, he saw that the child had balled herself up into the corner. Her fingers were twitching, gripping her hair, pulling, as she gently rocked herself back and forth. "You always do this, you always do this, you're a jinx, you're a jinx–"

 

She kept repeating the words, and Viktor's heart cracked. 

 

"What is it you've done, little one?" 

 

Her widened eyes snapped to Viktor's, a certain wildness coating them.  "Nothing, nothing– I stole." 

 

Viktor scented the lie in her shaky tone, but he quickly decided that she was in no position to voice anything else. 

 

"This is why my sister left me. Why she hates me." 

 

Viktor raised a brow. "Because you steal?" 

 

"Because I hurt people." 

 

Viktor's stomach clenched. 

 

"Did... you hurt someone?" 

 

"No!" She said in a panic. "No, no, no– I don't know. I didn't mean it, I promise, I didn't mean it–" 

 

"That's alright, you're okay," he soothed with uncertainty. 

 

"Things go boom sometimes, but I don't mean to, I don't mean to, I promise– I hurt Mylo, and she told me it was my fault, it's my fault, my fault–" 

 

The girl was clearly locked in a downward spiral.

 

"Where's your sister now?" Viktor asked carefully.

 

"I don't know, I don't know– I ran away. My dad found me. He doesn't hate me. He says I'm perfect. But I keep doing things wrong and it's my fault, it's my fault. I’m not perfect, I’m nothing but a ji-nx." She hiccuped violently, choking on the last word.

 

Viktor’s eyes softened. "Breathe. You're safe here, I won't let anyone come in and hurt you, okay?" 

 

Her manic eyes were pinned somewhere in front of her. "What if I make this explode too?" She whispered.

 

Viktor smiled. "Well, that would be rather inconvenient." 

 

She did not laugh at his joke. Ah, Viktor had never been good with kids. 

 

Viktor thought for a moment. "Do you know your dad's phone number?" 

 

She nodded frantically, still not meeting his eyes. "Yes, yes." 

 

Viktor pulled his device from his pocket and offered it to her, unlocked. "How about we give him a call?" 

 

They waited twenty minutes before a man in his late forties barged in. He was slender and sharply dressed to the nines. A scar carved down one side of his face, across his left eye. Viktor wondered if there was a prosthetic beneath the lid.

 

He seemed panic-stricken. “Jinx?” He called out, a clear tightness in his tone. 

 

Viktor pointed silently under the counter. “She fell asleep.” With the help of one of his newly purchased canes, Viktor pushed himself up and stepped aside to give the man some room.

 

The father immediately dropped to his knees. His concern was so visceral, so profound, that it twisted Viktor’s stomach and filled him with warmth.

 

His hands hovered over her small frame before he pursed his lips. “She was distraught?” 

 

Viktor nodded silently. Despite the man’s attention remaining on his daughter, Viktor felt as if he were being watched and analysed all the same. 

 

There was something about him that made Viktor feel slightly on edge. Like a blade with its tip turned inward. A tension ready to snap, hidden beneath casual civility. But Viktor wasn’t entirely certain why he was getting such an impression. 

 

The father sighed again, this time heavier, gathering his bearings. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “She won't remember any of this, then.” 

 

And Viktor, clearly with no good sense of self-preservation, inquired, "She made something explode?" 

 

The man’s focus lashed toward Viktor, his voice newly low. "Is that what she told you?" 

 

"Yes." 

 

He let out a tight breath. After a quick tug, he removed his jacket and draped it over her. It was smart, given that her blue hair would be a beacon for attention. 

 

Then, with aching tenderness, the man gathered the girl into his embrace, tucking her to his chest as he rose to his feet. Her arms curled naturally against him, the shape of her head pressing into his sternum. "She struggles to control her brilliance,” he offered as a form of explanation.

 

Not that Viktor needed it. But it did surprise him, considering this didn’t seem like the type of man–Viktor imagined–who would offer them freely, anyway.

 

“Happens to the best of us,” Viktor replied, quietly observing. 

 

As the man rounded the counter, he hesitated. Turned curiously toward Viktor. "What is a Zaunite doing so far from home?" 

 

Viktor raised a brow, a hidden stupefaction flickering within.  

 

There was a soft smile curving his mouth. "I recognize my own."  

 

Viktor returned the gesture. "Guilty as charged, then."  

 

The man made a curt gesture toward the counter. “Come visit my nightclub if you return.” 

 

Led by confusion, Viktor’s eyes followed the motion. There was a card lying in wait, one that hadn't been there moments ago. Viktor hadn’t even noticed it appear. A warm recognition swarmed his chest at being reminded of how Zaunites expressed gratitude without having to say the actual words.

 

Viktor picked up the card and studied it for a moment before he snorted. "I've seen your nightclub plenty– it's the biggest in all of Zaun." 

 

Which meant that the man before him wasn’t just anyone. If he was the owner, he might be fucking Silco. A renown, alleged, seemingly untouchable, crime lord of the Undercity.

 

Holy shit .

 

Viktor had always had some buried suspicions of this man’s involvement in Zaun’s independence. There was no public information confirming it, of course. But also none denying it. There was only one name that was brought up when discussing that liberation, and it wasn’t his.

 

But that curiosity now scorched through Viktor like it had the first time he’d heard of the man before him, as a teen.

 

Silco smirked. "Good. You'll know your way around, then." 

 

Viktor blinked.

 

As Silco turned to head toward the exit, the words stumbled out of him with feigned nonchalance, "Is there anything to this proposal beyond a friendly tour?" 

 

Silco paused with predatory stillness. He slowly turned, his chilling gaze locking onto Viktor’s. It caused his mouth to go dry. 

 

The man let out a huff of air as he appraised Viktor. "Cheeky." 

 

Viktor innocently shrugged. "Just making sure we're on the same page." 

 

Silco’s lips curved upward, a glint of surprised approval in his peer. "You'll have to visit to find out.” 

 

He swirled again, kicked the door open, and scanned the street with practiced ease. Satisfied, he leaned back once more, his low voice curling with a promise.

 

“I insist you do." 

///

 

Unread Letter

My darling V,

 

Jayce told me he was bisexual today! How wonderful is that? Endless love to give, my son. I have an infinitude of questions and, my Janna, how I wish I could talk to you about it, darling. 

 

Especially because I suspect you might have something to do with it. 

 

I haven't asked him, considering you're a forbidden topic now. He’s warned me that if I don’t compartmentalize, he will stop visiting altogether. 

 

And I cannot lose my son. 

 

Especially when I can see that he needs me, still. 

 

But that also means that there's no one left to talk about you with, darling.

 

And now, that's just another thing to mourn.

///

 

3 years and 3 months after the fallout

As Jayce gaped at the ground, thousands of miles below his feet, he instinctively jerked back, unintentionally shoving the instructor who was strapped to him from behind.

 

She chuckled over his shoulder. "Having second thoughts?" She yelled over the rushing winds. 

 

Yes. Oh, God, yes. 

 

"No," he yelled back incongruently. 

 

"Good. I need you to lower yourself!" 

 

Jayce's heart was hammering in his mouth. "I can't go any lower!" 

 

"Yes, you can! You'll be hanging for a second before I jump!" 

 

Despite Jayce regretting every single choice he'd ever made that led to this moment, every single one, the instructor was adamantly pushing him forward. And, in some idiotic semblance of misplaced pride, Jayce found himself unable to admit he was no longer inclined to go through with this. 

 

Inside his mind, there was but one voice distinctly saying, NO, NO, SAY NO, YOU'RE GOING TO DIE, YOU'RE GOING TO SPLAT. DO YOU THINK YOU'LL FEEL IT? EVERY SINGLE BONE IN YOUR BODY CRUSHING UPON IMPACT BEFORE YOU DIE? DO YOU THINK YOU'LL FEEL EVERY OUNCE OF PAIN A HUMAN BEING COULD POSSIBLY ENDURE IN THE SPAN OF A MILLISECOND BEFORE IT ALL GOES BLACK? OH GOD, TURN BACK, TURN BACK.  

 

But then a smaller voice, one carrying the energy of a tired face-palm, murmured, I don't want to look like a coward, though. 

 

And despite the sound logic of the first voice, the second seemed to take the lead.

 

So, Jayce, begrudgingly, let his instructor slowly dangle him off a plane. 

 

The panicked screams and retound refusal kept echoing inside his head, especially when he peered down and saw his legs swaying over an impossibly expansive void– nothing holding him to safety, nothing at all. 

 

It was terrifyingly vulnerable. 

 

Any second now, I might die. 

 

Without further warning, the instructor, plastered to his spine, jumped out of a moving plane. 

 

Something extraordinary occurred. 

 

Following the initial moments of absolute panic, brutal air rushed to meet him as gravity enveloped him in a deceptively weightless embrace. The sensation triggered Jayce to quickly accept that if he was, in fact, to die– then there was no longer anything he could do to avoid it. 

 

And the anxiety... vanished. 

 

His eyes dried and burned, but the view– it was extraordinary. Cascades of trees, bathed in sunlight, warmly enveloping the horizon; the glimmer of water, greeting from afar with a stunning shimmer; the earth, full and endless and breathtaking and so fastly approaching. 

 

For the first time in years, Jayce grinned involuntarily. Out of a lingering nervousness or sheer delight, he couldn't tell. Possibly adrenaline. 

 

But he was smiling all the same.

 

Once back on his own two feet, he realized that time hadn't really stopped. 

 

But it was the closest he'd ever come. 

 

And that, above anything, was worth pursuing.

/// 

 

3 years and 6 months after the fallout. 

The music thrummed through Viktor’s body, pulling at him, causing his chest to vibrate with the heavy bass that took over the room. The mountains of alcohol he’d consumed lulled him to the point where any lingering pains along his leg were mostly a forgotten nuisance.

 

Viktor preferred to shut his other senses in order to fully appreciate each heavy beat purring into his lungs, so he closed his eyes as he waited for the bartender to finish his drink.

 

A warmth brushed against his back, broad and immediately comforting. In a blink, Viktor’s body remembered to perfection what it felt like to be home. 

 

Without hesitation, Viktor leaned into it, his head resting instinctively on the shoulder behind him as a faint smile stretched on his lips. The angle was sharper than memory, but he didn’t care. The smile on his face deepened as arms slipped around his waist, drawing him closer.

 

For a fleeting second, Viktor allowed himself to get carried away, to release his strict boundaries, to surrender. To resuscitate what had already been buried for years, when the concept of vulnerable touch had turned foreign again.

 

“You’re so hot,” a deep voice muttered in his ear. 

 

“Don’t talk,” Viktor immediately murmured to the obvious stranger. 

 

The man was obedient, and under the effects of inebriation, a version of Viktor that had been viciously murdered peeked from within. One who still knew how it felt to be wanted, to be held. One that still knew how to let someone else offer him a semblance of protection. God, how could he have lived without this feeling for years?

 

But even so… it wasn’t right. 

 

Hearing that unrecognisable voice had wrecked the moment.

 

After a few seconds, unease crept in. The touch, once comforting, now felt foreign. Viktor began to feel overwhelmed by the texture of another human being’s skin, trapped under the weight of forearms he didn’t recognise. 

 

Viktor blinked before he pried those now scalding limbs away from him. Viktor’s body recoiled before his mind caught up to the fact that the interaction felt wrong. He walked away without a word, drink forgotten, and determined to find his companions. 

 

On their way out of the pub, his three roommates were holding each other, alcohol induced snickering fits bubbling out of them. Viktor had a soft smile on his face as he observed them. 

 

“Are you not leaving with that guy you were grinding against, Vik?” One of them slurred with a wiggle of her brows. 

 

Viktor raised his own unimpressed brow in response.

 

“Come on, we know you have a type!”

 

“Tall, dark, mysterious men.”

 

“Big boys.”

 

“Especially if they sneak up on him from behind,” another one added with a giggle. “He goes crazy for that.”

 

Viktor said nothing the whole way home. 

 

 

///

 

3 years and 8 months after the fallout.

"Will you let me have one last dying wish?" 

 

Jayce snorted, despite the dejection in his eyes. He squeezed his mother's hands between his own, her now gelid touch sending a shiver down his spine. "Why do you have to be so dramatic about it?" 

 

"Because," she smiled softly, "I know you will say no." 

 

Jayce narrowed his eyes. 

 

"But if it's my last dying wish–,” she drawled with a light shrug, “–maybe you'll feel obliged." 

 

Jayce offered a small, warm grin. "I'm not sure you being upfront about your manipulation is the best tactic here."

 

"Indulge me?" 

 

Jayce sighed heavily, taking in his mother’s features. 

 

The cancer had carved pieces out of her: hollowed her cheeks, bleached her skin to a colorless tone that made him want to bury her in blankets, as if warmth alone could bring life back into her. She rocked a headscarf now, and though she still cracked jokes, Jayce saw the truth. Day by day, she was slowly fading.

 

And, once again, he was in a position where he was helpless to do anything about it.

 

He placed a soft kiss on her knuckles. 

 

"What is it, ma?” He asked tenderly, his voice faint. “Of course. I will do anything you want– anything at all." 

 

She stared into his soul. "Call him." 

 

His throat tightened. "What?" 

 

Despite the fact that his mother was probably aware that he'd heard her just fine, her eyes still shone with kindness. "Call him." 

 

Jayce swallowed, his heart already in a gallop as the simple thought of it sent a rush of panic through his entire being. "I can't," he rasped. "It's been years, ma. God knows where he is or what he's doing now. He doesn't want to be found." 

 

Her chocolate eyes were pleading. "It's the last time I'll ever ask it of you."

 

There was a pause, her words settling with an unbearable weight. Jayce pinched the bridge of his nose.

 

"And what do I tell him? 'Hello, long time no see. I don't know if you remember me from that almost-year we spent together that ended in absolute disaster, but I just wanted to call you and let you know my mother is dying. '" 

 

Despite the biting tone of sarcasm, the last word broke in his throat. His eyes brimmed with a vicious flood. 

 

My mother is dying.

 

She missed nothing. His mother smirked, "Let’s not have you brooding on your own once I'm gone." 

 

He sniffed and gave her a mock pout, tears threatening to spill as he continued her preferred dynamic. "But I'm such a good brooder."

 

She gave him a pointed look.

 

Selfishly, Jayce wanted to call him. If anyone could make this better, it would be... him, he supposed. 

 

He'd never call Viktor for himself. But maybe for his mother… he could try.

 

Her hand raised to cup his cheek, the warmth of the gesture slicing through him as much as the adoration behind her eyes. "Just tell him I want to say goodbye." 

 

"Ma..."

 

"Please, baby. I promise never to ask you again," she repeated, her serious tone returning and twinging an ache inside Jayce’s chest. 

 

Jayce leaned into the touch, letting those familiar fingers brush his skin. "Okay," he whispered. 

 

Turning his head, he placed a soft kiss in the center of her palm. Then, he rose from his seat. Paced as he navigated his phone. Jayce turned his back to his mother to hide his terror, facing the wall as his trembling thumb hovered over the call button. 

 

He stared at the contact on his phone, at that name painfully staring back.

 

His heart was begging to climb out of his mouth at the mere notion that he might be about to hear that gravelly voice for the first time in years.

 

So much had changed since then. Jayce had no idea what to even say. And still…

 

Please, please, please, please.

 

One beep. Two beeps. 

 

The number you have called has been disconnected. 

 

The line went dead. The silence that followed felt almost violent.

 

A familiar, gnawing pain erupted in his chest. Of course. 

 

Slowly, he pivoted in place to face his mother, feebly lying on that detestable hospital bed. She awaited quietly, hope twinkling behind those beautiful eyes that were still fixed on him.

 

Jayce lowered his device and gave a small shake of his head.

 

His mother released a tight breath. "That's okay," she said softly. 

 

Jayce went to her, leaning down to wrap her in his arms. "I'm sorry, ma." 

 

She stroked his back. "I'm sorry, too," she whispered wetly. 

///

 

Unread letter

I don't blame you for leaving, darling. 

 

Not yesterday, not today, and not tomorrow. 

 

I hope you found relief anew.

///

4 years and 1 month after the fallout 

 

Despite the grim circumstances and the paralyzing grief, the sun was shining. 

 

It was almost as if his mother were stretching from the sky to fill Jayce with warmth. God knows he desperately needed it. 

 

That gnawing nothingness was back, and now he was thoroughly certain it was there to stay.

 

Cait had never been one to be clingy, but today she'd draped herself on his arm and wouldn't budge. On his other side stood Babs, ever the quiet sentinel. Her comically oversized purse brimmed with tissues, hand warmers, headache meds, a couple of travel-sized bottles of vodka… Anything she thought he might need. Probably things he didn’t even realize he could need, to be honest.

 

Jayce was endlessly grateful for it. He wasn't sure he could push through without those solid touches, anchoring him to the present and keeping him from floating away.  

 

All of his family was in attendance. Friends. Even co-workers had popped by. People Jayce had never met before, who’d found out that the mother of the now fading Man of Progress had passed away and wanted to pay their respects to the woman who’d raised him.

 

And despite being surrounded by people, despite knowing he had family to lean on, despite the fact that it’d been years–

 

Jayce thought of him. 

 

Their connection had barely spanned a year to begin with. And yet today, during a transient moment of shameful vulnerability, Jayce wondered if this cavernous hole in his chest would feel any smaller if Viktor were here.

 

Jayce wondered if, were he here to witness yet another version of Jayce wither and die, his presence would constitute a promise of a new version yet to rise.

 

It felt somewhat idiotic, that fleeting thought. Jayce knew by now that Viktor didn't care. Not about him, not about his mother– not about anything at all. The conclusion was evident. Especially considering how many times Jayce had wanted to reach out, but there was no evidence of that feeling ever being returned. 

 

Jayce knew he no longer existed to him. He missed a promise that, while maybe true once, had turned to nothing but imaginative fantasy.

 

Still, today, he missed it regardless.

 

Because in that moment, as he stood over her grave, it was irrefutable: whatever pitiful scraps of himself remained–

 

They had been carefully lowered into the cold, dark soil and inevitably put to rest alongside his ma.

///

5 years and 3 months after the fallout.

Viktor sat alone on a park bench.

 

He was celebrating the fact that he’d published yet another paper on AI-driven mobility aids, and he'd been invited to speak on it at the annual meeting of the International Conference on the Technology of Sciences. There was endless innovation to be considered and Viktor was starting to become a point of reference for his research, which was flattering in its own way.

 

But there was no explosive joy, no underlying current of exhilarating excitement. Just… cold fact.  

 

Sunshine caressed his face, slowly warming him under that faint brush of delicious heat. He greedily tilted his head toward it.

 

Without warning, his peace was shattered by a familiar cackle, ringing out somewhere behind him.

 

Viktor inhaled sharply, pierced by the sound, rattling his mind with a violent echo reverberating from years past.

 

Everything inside him was suddenly pulled tight, his shoulders tensed, his nape went rigid and his stomach churned painfully. Like a deer in headlights, Viktor turned to stone. 

 

That laugh . It sounded just like...

 

Viktor's fingers twitched where they rested on his lap.

 

The air left his lungs with a long and slow exhale. He knew it couldn't be. It wasn't him, it'd be quite impossible, wouldn't it?

 

Viktor couldn't get himself to look behind. To check. To answer the burning question that now scorched through his spirit.

 

He was frozen in place and deep down, Viktor knew it wasn't him.

 

A silent, almost imperceptible tear spilled from his eye, his chest constricted to the point of anguish. It was the first time that had happened since–

 

Instinctively, he went to scratch his face, passing the movement as an excuse to wipe away the evidence dampening his cheek.

 

The movement unparalyzed him.

 

Despite it all, and even though Viktor knew...

 

Just as Orpheus had been doomed to look back in search of Eurydice, so was Viktor.

 

He turned, his gaze finding the stranger in question, one who was currently teaching a child how to throw a Frisbee. 

 

Viktor watched for a short while, enough for the pain in his chest to loosen slightly, before he let out a tight breath, stood, and went on his way.

 

That was the first and only tear Viktor shed for his long-lost friend.

 

He didn’t think of him again.

///

5 years and 9 months after the fallout.

Jayce's fingers hovered over the keyboard, the once quiet impulse now turned into, yet another, unbearable itch. 

 

Maybe he shouldn't. What was there to gain? What was there to find but more damning evidence of someone who'd completely erased him from their life? 

 

What if he wasn't even alive anymore?

 

Wouldn't it be better to... believe he was still out there, on his own terms? 

 

Jayce was chewing on his bottom lip, wholly fixated on that enter key. 

 

Fuck it . 

 

With a single clack , results emerged. 

 

A shallow breath left his lips.

 

There were no photographs, no social media to account for. Only– research. Recent research. 

 

Jayce's galloping heart squeezed in his chest, a past recognition flaring to life.

 

As he opened multiple tabs on the varied publications, Jayce leaned in, chin resting on his knuckles. 

 

As if under a spell, Jayce devoured them all, one after the other.

 

Those words had been written by him.

 

He didn't understand much of it, considering he had no clue about mobility aids, let alone A.I or anything remotely computer-related. 

 

But he tried, all the same. He googled what he couldn't make sense of, anything that would allow Jayce to comprehend his mind and his work.

 

It was the only piece of him Jayce had been able to lay his eyes upon over the last five years.

 

A piece that whispered of the fact that he was, in fact, out there somewhere– alive and well. Living. 

 

There was a devastating, faint tug on his lips.

 

For a lingering moment, the anger that had been ever so present whenever Jayce thought of him over the years dissipated. There was only a very quiet, lonesome kernel tucked in a corner of his soul that flickered with relief . 

 

Once seemingly satisfied, Jayce took a deep breath, exhaled it loudly, closed the tabs, and returned to his own research. 

 

 

///

7 years and 2 months after the fallout.

 

The letter on his desk was cryptic enough to swallow Viktor in a burning curiosity he hadn’t felt in years.

 

The Academy was inviting him to return and attend a conference about a subject matter revolving around technological innovation.

 

It was slightly outside of his comfort zone, which was another reason nudging him to go.

 

Viktor had been growing bored with his work lately. It was always more of the same, and even though he'd accomplished a fair bit, he was now itching for something entirely new.

 

For years, Viktor had been waiting for an opportunity such as this. 

 

But did he want to step back into Piltover? As promising as the letter seemed to be, he wasn’t fully certain the answer to that question was yes.

 

Then again, Piltover was the epicentre of technological development. If it was a challenge he was chasing, that’s most certainly where he’d find it.

 

Furthermore, his last visit to Zaun two years ago had been uncomfortable, sure. But not... as harrowing as he'd have imagined. 

 

Especially in Silco's company. It had offered the perfect distraction, thorough enough for Viktor to actually enjoy his stay. Among other things.

 

Viktor stared unblinkingly at the letter, beckoning him to return to where he belonged. 

 

Maybe it was time to stop being a castaway, time to stop letting anything but himself control where he could or could not be. 

 

Viktor had built a career, a life outside of any painful events from his past. Viktor had rebuilt himself , turned into a person he could rely on for protection. 

 

So why on earth was Viktor still in hiding? 

  

Viktor had been desperate for a professional novelty, and this opportunity was the most promising to ever cross his desk. 

 

Perhaps the question now was…

 

Could he endure stumbling into one Jayce Talis? 

 

Viktor snorted.

 

He hadn’t even thought of that name in years.

 

At most, he would see Talis in passing. And while that would certainly be awkward and keep Viktor from continuing to live off the conviction that Jayce had never even existed to begin with, he was fairly certain it could be possible to nod politely in any social environment and proceed to forget anew. 

 

Even if Jayce had any wandering thoughts about interacting, it would be extremely easy for Viktor to simply keep his mind blank and walk away from him at will. Worst case scenario, Talis would have to come to terms on his own time with Viktor’s preferred dynamic (or lack thereof), offered in peace. 

 

Any other circumstances were not Viktor’s problem to deal with. 

 

Deep down, Viktor knew he wouldn't really care. Clearly, the Man of Progress had other things to concern himself with, so most likely, his return would go by unnoticed. 

 

Viktor was relieved to find that, in his mind, Talis had become nothing but a stranger Viktor actively wanted nothing to do with.

 

And he had a feeling that sentiment would be returned in full.

 

That settled it. 

 

Viktor was coming home. 

Notes:

TW: depression, body horror, suicidal ideation, psychological/sexual self harm (masturbation), alcohol consumption, sexual content, panic attack, emotional breakdowns, dealing with terminal illness, death, incorrect PHD process of education/timeline.

///

Ps: yes! I completely changed the research scene for jayce!! You guys had an absolute point about him looking for v, and I had another idea for that but after thinking about it, I decided you were right. It made more sense here. So once again thank you for your thoughts!! And sorry for the whiplash of things constantly changing after reading them 😂😂😂

HEEEEEEEEEEEEY

WE ARE OFFICIALLY DONE WITH PAST STUFF!!!!! YAAAAAAY!!! WE DID IT!!!!!!

Ready for act II? 😂

Mikel 100 percent looks like ambessas twink in my head.

How we feeling about the fact that V has a T in his chest?!?!?! D: oh god

J scolding his dick and trying to run from it will always be so incredibly hilarious to me

ALSO YAY FOR J SLIPPING VS NAME WHILE DRUNK AND DOING THE DEED OOOOOPSI

young jinx really, really breaks my heart :'(

also YAYYYYYY HE BEAT COMPHET!!!! IT TOOK HIM SO LONG AND SO MUCH EFFORT BUT HE DID IT!!!

meni wanting j to have a friend for when she dies D:

I hope everyone has a great week, hopefully you get a break during these days in your country (the one thing we will thank religion for-- holidays) and have a chance to recharge and have some rest!!

As always, any feedback and/or overall opinion is not only welcome, but deeply motivating and appreciated <3 truly

tooodalooooo!

Chapter 28: I encourage you to come disembowel me at a closer distance.

Summary:

back to the lab yall (silly chapter)

Notes:

TW IN ENDNOTES

Hello guys!!!!! Long time no see. I have missed interacting with all of you so much! 😭😭😭😭

I hope everyone is doing well, feeling well, recharging and not boiling already with the heat.

I edited some, but there's no need to reread. All you need to know for plot is that Mel and Jayce had a friend click in ch 4, and that the independence of Zaun was 25 years ago, instead (in the past, 32 in the present)

Apologies for any inconvenience/discomfort the fic going missing might have caused. Especially because I know there are some wonderful people here who worry, who have openly disclosed feeling abandoned in the past (in fic spaces too), and I hope you know I did not forget you for one second!!!!!! I PROMISED YALL I wouldn't leave this fic unfinished without warning. And we take promises very seriously in this fandom ;)

I gotta say some special thanks, so bear with me.

Thank you to b-h-art on tumblr, for not only their beautiful words, BUT FOR OUR FIRST FANART (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) 🤩🤩
Here's the link in case you guys want to see our boys and give the artist some lob 🫶
https://www.tumblr.com/b-h-art/783821233197400064/was-missing-the-striking-before-and-inevitable?source=share

If anyone happens across any fanart, please send it my way! It would be my honor to link any art in my notes so we can all celebrate the overflowing talent in this fandom.

Thank you to arka and natzukat on tumblr for their beautiful words and support. They were a boost of energy and motivation.

And a super heartfelt thank you to Roxi, who's been putting up with me on the daily and offers me not only marvellous ideas, but her wonderful editor-type advice (how lucky am I??😭😭)

There are so many beautiful people in this community (why am I surprised, we're all hyperfixating on two characters who embody pure love). Thank you all for reaching out and allowing me to meet you.

Now, onto ACT II. Strap in because we're going on a mission to get these two to become friends again. And I'm almost as lost about it as you are; we going in blind. How exciting!

Considering it would take another two weeks for the lab to be fully operational, Viktor did his best to immerse himself in his research, coding, and project. 

 

As the days nudged forward, Viktor discovered that he'd developed a new tick, one that broke his focus and interrupted his work.

 

Every so often, he would stare at his phone, dark and looming, and eventually succumb to double-tapping the screen. On every occasion, there was nothing there for him to see– only a blank, background image that had been on display since he'd purchased the device. 

 

Most dreadful of all, Viktor found that... 

 

He was bored. 

 

And that was an insult, on its own. He had better things to do with his time than getting sucked into checking his notifications. At the end of the day, there were endless ways to entertain oneself and infinite topics to dive into. 

 

But he found himself uninterested in every single one of them. 

 

Why on earth was there a part of him that was secretly expecting to receive a text, or a call, or anything , from someone he despised?

 

He didn't even have Viktor's number in the first place. What was he expecting, that Talis would magically guess it? That he'd cross a boundary by asking it of someone else? A line Viktor would be reasonably infuriated by, if actually transgressed? 

 

Viktor was going in circles, again.

 

Spending that much time together had been a terrible mistake. It was as if some part of him had slid into the past and was now expectant of a dynamic that no longer existed. 

 

A part that he was struggling to strangle, anew.

 

One week in forced proximity. That's all it had taken.

 

As an isolated conclusion, it was strangely validating. This is why Viktor had chosen to leave– because he'd finally recognised how blinded he became whenever Talis was around. 

 

The consequences resembled those of a drug addiction. Jayce was the perfectly tailored type of narcotic for Viktor, one created just for him. It overtook any manuals or protocol, and Viktor realised that if the drug was in the room, he was helpless to consume it. The perfidious chemicals in his brain were wired to that man without much consideration for his conscious choice.

 

For months, a while back, Viktor had gotten high on that upper, a reckless intoxication that knew no bounds– until it broke him. 

 

The only way to get clean after that had been to go cold turkey.

 

And Viktor was now experiencing a new reality where he was fully aware of that fact, and yet his body craved another hit. Just a microdose so he could endure the rest of the day.

 

Dammit.

 

It was quite perplexing because Viktor couldn't consciously care less about what Jayce did with the rest of his miserable existence. 

 

Going sober had been abrupt, but necessary for his survival.

 

The mere thought of getting closer to Talis in any capacity seemed beyond preposterous, only nestling the vast disgust twisting in his gut. 

 

Which meant he was in his right mind. 

 

Perhaps it was a drug induced by proximity. Perhaps Viktor was doomed to have his sense of control ripped away from him, were that drug in his vicinity. 

 

Which did not sit well with him. Not in the slightest. 

 

And, worst of all, Viktor now owed him an interaction. A conversation about his project. Information he was not particularly enthusiastic to entrust to him, considering how catastrophic the last time Viktor had shared his ideas with the man had been. 

 

Perhaps, if Viktor played his cards right, he could find a way for Jayce to forget it. There had to be a loophole he could slither into, one that would allow him to avoid that conversation without directly breaking his word. 

 

He might be a hypocrite, after all. 

 

But there were worse things in this life, and Viktor refused to have another reminder of just that.

 

Consequently, and for his own health, he went cold turkey.

/// 

Time had relented, but not in a good way. 

 

During the two weeks spent away from the Academy, Jayce did not know what to do with himself. 

 

Alternating between work, research, and whatever other distractions Jayce could get his hands on was not nearly immersive enough to make time pass by quicker. 

 

There was a slow, overconsuming, painfully familiar itch to return to the lab. 

 

Yet, as days passed, a creeping doubt began to fester. 

 

With each new sunrise, Jayce further accepted the fact that Viktor would probably be long gone by the time he stepped back into his workplace. 

 

Two abrupt weeks without a single word exchanged was a cruel parallel, as if seven years of waiting had been condensed into a cocktail that resulted in the same effect. 

 

Jayce was, once again, feeling the urge to confirm that things were actually changing between them. It seemed so obvious when they were face to face, but the moment Viktor was out of sight, no amount of collected evidence was convincing enough to allow him to keep that knowledge as fact. 

 

Despite recognizing now that Viktor had gone out of his way to keep him from spiraling down into the abyss–albeit unconsciously–, Jayce couldn't help that voice inside his mind, adamantly reminding him that he meant nothing. To think otherwise would be to offer his naïvety the front stage in his mind, watch it play a single chord and call it music. 

 

Even so, in the worst-case scenario, Jayce was secretly praying to find a silent presence, rather than a deafening absence. 

 

In the meantime, he'd taken to finding different cafes where he could set up to work. The shuffling of people walking by, the hisses of coffee machines, the murmur of soft conversations occurring in the background– they created a sort of white noise that sharpened his focus and absorbed him in his project. 

 

Two days before officially returning to the lab, he invited Mel Medarda to join him for brunch. They’d been sporadically texting since Jayce had met her at The Last Drop, and a friendship was organically blooming. In the present time, he could do with some guidance, and there was a sharpness to her that Jayce was curious to discover further. 

 

The moment she walked through the door, Jayce smiled broadly and stood to greet her, offering a tight hug from across the table. 

 

Her hair was pulled back and beautifully braided, the plaids cascading over her shoulders adorned with golden clips that gleamed alongside her hoop earrings. She wore a sleeveless black top which rose to her neck, only accentuating her effortless elegance.

"It's so nice to see you, Mel. You look fantastic." 

 

"As do you," she responded with a mirroring gesture. Then, her eyes dipped to the chaos before her. “I see you're keeping yourself busy.” 

 

Jayce was quick to scramble his scattered documents into a messy pile, offering an apologetic curve to his mouth. 

 

“Occupational hazard.”

 

They ordered their respective food as Mel caught him up on her apartment hunt, on how Lest was doing–even though Jayce hadn't met Mel's girlfriend yet–and on the paintings she was bringing to life for a new collection she had in the works.

 

“That's wonderful!” 

 

His earnest enthusiasm seemed to contage, because Mel was now quietly buzzing as well. Except, on her, it manifested as a faint smirk. 

 

He raised a brow. “Are you ever going to show me your work?” 

 

“One day,” she promised. “As for now, I'm quite enjoying the fact that you have no idea what I'm talking about.”

 

Jayce chuckled, taking another bite of his waffle.  “I'll hold you to that.” 

 

"And you? What's this about being on house arrest?" 

 

Mid-swallow, Jayce rolled his eyes. "There was an ongoing investigation regarding the explosion that occurred in the Academy." 

 

“And you were a suspect?” She asked with incredulity. 

 

“It seems I was a person of interest. I was asked not to leave my apartment until their investigation was concluded.” 

 

"That sounds dreadful." 

 

He scoffed. "You don't know the half of it." 

 

Mel’s sharp smile widened. "Do tell." 

 

Jayce chewed in silence for a moment. 

 

Ah, fuck it. 

 

"Remember Viktor?" 

 

The fork with a piece of French toast paused halfway to her mouth. "Is that the man who wouldn't acknowledge your existence at the bar when we met?" 

 

"The very same." 

 

"What about him?" 

 

Jayce went to rub his nape. “It's a long story.”

 

Her studious eyes roamed his features, her chewing slow and deliberate. 

 

“I have time,” she offered kindly– a recurrent attribute of hers, it would seem. 

 

Jayce sighed heavily. "He, um– He was someone very important to me, once. We had a pretty nasty fallout about eight years ago, one I have not managed to piece together quite yet. He got stuck in the apartment with me during the house arrest and… well. Let's say it's been confusing, to say the least." 

 

Those eyes were watching him with a quiet interest.

 

“Tell me everything.” 

 

And, surprisingly, Jayce did. 

 

He spoke of their friendship, of what it had meant to him, back then. Of the freedom he'd experienced in Viktor's company. Of finding a way to save his life, and how his former partner had done a one hundred and eighty degrees in the span of one interaction. Of his disappearance. 

 

Mel listened intently, nodding along and tilting her head whenever Jayce struggled to express himself. 

 

Once he finished, she softly hummed.

 

"And you want to reconnect?" 

 

Jayce gave her a look. "Did he look like somebody interested in any kind of rekindling when you met him?" 

 

She let out a quiet huff. "Not particularly." Mel dipped her chin, ever knowing. "But that's not what I asked." 

 

Jayce chuckled, struck by inquisitiveness. "Have you always been so extraordinary at reading people?" 

 

"You're evading again," she laughed, a glimmer in her eyes. "And you don't survive a childhood with my mother by being obtuse, I can assure you." 

 

Jayce’s mouth twisted into a faint grimace. “Add that to the list of topics for us to talk about.” 

 

She smiled, but something was lurking behind her expression. 

 

"Jayce, what do you want?" 

 

“Hm?” He voiced as he munched.

 

Reclining into the back of her chair, Mel observed him like he was feeble prey caught in a snare. 

 

“What do you want to do, where Viktor is involved? Give me honesty or nothing at all.” 

 

He swallowed his food alongside the tightness constricting his throat. Aimlessly moved the food around on his plate.

 

"I... I want to try." 

 

Mel tilted her head ever so slightly. "Try, what?" 

 

"To... make him…" Hell, why were words such a hassle at times? "...not …hate me?" 

 

She took a bite of her toast, letting Jayce's sentiment linger in the air between them.

 

"To what end?" Mel finally inquired.

 

Jayce lifted a brow. "What do you mean?" 

 

"What's the reason?" 

 

Jayce faintly shook his head. "I'm not following."

 

She sighed. "Are you trying to appease your discomfort? Perhaps the idea of Viktor hating you makes you uncomfortable, and you're trying to evade it. Or," she contrasted in a lighter tone, "are you trying to, finally, get the full picture?" 

 

“I–”

 

Silence swallowed him whole. 

 

He wanted many things. He had no idea what those things were, let alone voice them.

 

Mel plowed through. "If you're going to rehash something painful, make sure you're doing it for the right reasons." 

 

“And what would those be?” He asked sincerely, the vulnerability in his tone utterly inescapable.

 

Mel's gaze softened. "There's a reason he's not telling you anything. There's a reason he clams up. There has to be a reason for him not to want to associate with you– people don't just make those decisions willy-nilly." 

 

"Right."

 

"Do you know them?" 

 

"Know what?" 

 

"Gosh, it's like talking to a wall with you today. Do you know the reasons why he won't acknowledge you?" 

 

"I... guess?" 

 

Waking up to a new reality? Blowie? Those were the two reasons Jayce had always come back to whenever he'd pondered on it.

 

Not that he'd had much opportunity to allow himself to reflect without carving that wound deeper. Not when he hadn't been able to tolerate it.

 

"That's not good enough," she offered lightly with a shake of her head. "Maybe you should re-get to know him. It's been eight years– even if you see your friend, he's someone else entirely.” 

 

Jayce considered for a moment. 

 

"And what if he won't let me?" He carefully wondered.

 

Mel shrugged. "Then react as you would anyone else. Move on." 

 

Those words rang within Jayce, echoing inside the confines of that void he fostered within. They were logical, but also felt entirely wrong, somehow. Two paths colliding into further confusion. 

 

He inhaled a shaky breath. 

 

"I don't– I can't give up on him, Mel.” Jayce found himself confessing, a simmering truth slipping out with solemn tranquility. “Spending these days with him has been... the best I've felt in a really long time. The house feels so quiet now, without him." 

 

"Even though he hates you?" 

 

A dejected nod. "Even though he hates me." 

 

"Then, maybe, this time around– it shouldn't be about you." 

 

Jayce blinked before he leaned back, struck by her words. “You think… I made it about me?”

 

Mel snorted, almost imperceptible to the eye of the  beholder. "This is why I'm thankful every day that I like women– you men don't seem to naturally understand this concept." She braced her arms on the edge of the table and leaned forward, interlacing her fingers. "You're thinking of yourself, yes. Of your experience. Of what you'd like and how you feel. But two people will react entirely differently to the same stimuli, entirely differently to an identical event. If you assume your perspective is the obvious one, then you've already lost.” 

 

Mel observed as he processed the words coming out of her. She reached out across the table to squeeze his forearm. 

 

“You don't know what reality he experienced, even if the event was shared. You want a chance to mend it, a real chance? Then, you can't just go around talking about yourself, only. You need to understand him. Truly understand him. Create a bridge through curiosity. If you want to avoid repeating history, you need to come up with a new approach. You cannot be surprised when the same just breeds more of the same." 

 

The words rang congruent with much of what Jayce had already thought for himself. 

 

Even if a part of him clawed through him with exasperation. 

 

So he chose to change the subject altogether.

 

Jayce gave Mel a warm smile as a spark of mischief filtered into his voice.

 

"You know, I think there might be a parallel universe where you're not a lesbian, and I'm not overtaken by thoughts of a ghost, and we go on a date. I'm certain of it." 

 

A laugh emerged from her throat as she leaned back into her seat, anew.

 

"Absolutely. We would look phenomenal together.”

 

Jayce snickered when she gave him a small wink.

 

“Great minds.” 

///

 

Returning to the lab was like walking into a dream. 

 

The space was eerily similar to the last time Jayce had seen it, except with a new polish. The glass cabinets, the flasks, the chalkboards… All novel and in mint condition, yet a carbon copy of what had existed before. 

 

Flashes of the explosion pierced his mind, and Jayce dragged his weary eyes to the ceiling as he remembered those panels crashing to the ground, causing debris to fly everywhere, and chaos to blaze to life in an instant.

 

Those same panels were immaculately shinning, now.

 

The cuts decorating his back and legs were healing nicely, and they'd better after the nuisance of changing his bandages every couple of days. When he didn’t forget, that is.

 

His knee, however… His knee was taking its sweet time to return to normal, dragging behind, in comparison. Now and then, it would pinch in pain, especially when Jayce stepped just so as he walked.

 

Still, he was certain that it would eventually pass. He just needed to be slightly more patient with that particular recovery. 

 

As Jayce's eyes swept his surroundings, he realized that, as per usual, he was the first to arrive at work. 

 

There was a tension sizzling inside his chest as he took a seat behind his desk and reorganised his belongings. It creeped up his spine, stiffening his shoulders and knotting his nape. 

 

Even if Viktor miraculously crossed the threshold to the lab, Jayce wasn't entirely sure of what he would say. He'd had two weeks to plan how he would approach his former lab partner, to script the perfect ice-breaker, or to find a way to get him to talk without collapsing the fragile honesty they'd stumbled upon.

 

Unfortunately, he'd been rendered empty-handed. 

 

It was mind-shattering to think how Viktor's abrupt absence from his life had morphed into its own, tortuous presence, flattening everything under the weight of absolutely nothing. The time spent in his company, especially during their house arrest, was further awakening Jayce to that undeniable fact.

 

And, most disconcertingly, Jayce wasn't entirely sure how to proceed after everything that had transpired between them. 

 

They’d visited his ma. Jayce had felt her presence for the first time in four years. It was a gift he would never manage to truly return. 

 

They’d talked until the break of dawn, soft voices drenched in ease and comfort, relearning aspects about each other without any conscious effort. 

 

The fact that Jayce had heard Viktor's laugh again, for the first time in almost a decade. How much that contagious sound had ruptured a new forbidden desire to hear it again.

 

Even the unbelievable notion that they'd slept in the same bed, that they could fall asleep and rest in each other's presence, was discombobulating. 

 

Each and every one of those events had been deeply consequential to Jayce. 

 

And he hadn’t stopped thinking about them since.

 

Now, he was lost as to how to further engage without letting the ripples of those moments bleed into his intentions. 

 

Intentions he, himself, wasn’t particularly attuned to.  

 

Getting Viktor to stop hating him for good was his most pressing goal, or at least the only one he could name. The conversation he'd had with Mel had only solidified it. 

 

If Viktor chose to leave afterward, or chose to continue not having any personal relationship with him, Jayce would respect it. 

 

But they needn't hate each other for that, did they? 

 

Of course, that is if Viktor were to return. If he hadn't already left indefinitely without so much as a goodbye. 

 

The only way to know for certain was to lie in wait. Again.

 

A spike of pain flared between his lungs, and Jayce took a deep breath in an attempt to soothe it. 

 

10.53 A.M.

 

Still no sign of him. 

 

Maybe the excuse of winning the game could be the perfect prompt to start a conversation between them. But there was also a chance that Viktor would interpret his prying as pressure–to talk, to disclose personal information, to interact.

 

If that happened, Viktor would sink further into his cocoon. Jayce knew that far too well.

 

So… Should Jayce let Viktor come to him, instead, like he’d promised himself he would? 

 

It almost seemed counterproductive. To believe that inaction might lead to action. To hope that by doing nothing, Viktor might change his mind and offer him something. 

 

Jayce was getting tired of catching himself in a state of dissociation, eyes fixed on the door across from his desk. 

 

Mid-afternoon, the door of the lab finally clicked open. Jayce jumped in his seat with a sharp gasp, the movement breaking the tense quietude he’d been swallowed under.

 

But the person walking in was not Viktor. It was Heimer, instead. 

 

Apparently, the Dean was making the rounds to welcome those affected by the explosion and ensuring everyone was properly accommodated in the new labs. 

 

They chatted for a bit, and Jayce was dying to ask him about whether he'd heard from Viktor, but his pride squeezed his throat into silence. 

 

Voicing that question felt impossibly raw, for some reason. 

 

Heimer did not mention him of his own accord, or inquired in turn. After their short conversation, he walked out once more and left Jayce to his own devices. 

 

The day dragged on and turned to evening, time crawling with a new certainty that was further sinking into Jayce's chest with every added second. 

 

The silence was no longer merely empty.

 

It was definitive.

 

Viktor was gone. 

 

By the time eight-thirty P.M. rolled around, Jayce could tolerate that crushing stillness no longer. He hadn’t done a scrap of work, and a ball of a past agony was swishing beneath his sternum, like a ship amidst a violent storm, swaying from side to side and threatening to tip over.

 

He did not want to drown at his place of work. 

 

So, on his way home, he stopped by the store, bought a bottle of tequila, and sought asylum in his living room. 

 

Once seated, he didn’t even bother to procure a glass. Jayce stared at the bottle as if it owed him answers, resting it against his thigh with an ache he wasn't sure how to interpret or release. 

 

Jayce had believed that he would have been indifferent by this stage. To Viktor leaving. 

 

He unscrewed the cap and gulped a third of the bottle in one go, finding refuge in the blaze crawling down his throat. Entrusting it to provide a distraction from that vacancy taking over, once more.

 

Burning was better than the nothing he couldn't avoid.

 

Grabbing his TV remote, he went to a folder within his screen and played “Planet of Wars: the Beloved Prince of Matter”– considering, it had always been his comfort movie. One he hadn't watched in years.

 

Not since–

 

Ah. 

 

Right.

 

He swigged the bottle back again. 

 

As his inebriation grew and the movie progressed, Jayce sank deeper into his cushions. Memories of conversations trickled past, of Viktor's insights to a film he had watched a hundred times and never caught onto on his own. Recollections of feeling warm, and safe, and cared for, now but a distant flicker from another life.

 

Halfway through the film, a wayward tear scorched a path down his cheek. It dove into his beard, eventually dripping into the collar of his shirt. Jayce made no move to wipe it away. 

 

He cried in silence. 

 

He shouldn't be crying over this. Jayce shouldn't be crying over someone who'd warned him, again and again and again, that he was nothing.

 

But to have that exact feeling revived, palpable in his flesh, was an old wound that no amount of preparation could have possibly saved Jayce from how devastating it continued to be. 

 

But he'd survived it once. He would do so again.

 

Even if, deep down, he'd secretly–stupidly–prayed he’d never have to.

 

Tired and hungover, Jayce returned to the lab the following morning. 

 

The room still carried the sterile scent of new furniture and clean surfaces, hand in hand with what Jayce would have sworn was an underlying trace of coffee. 

 

He shook his head, but his eyes inevitably drifted to the far side of the lab. 

 

He froze. 

 

The screech of his chair scraping against the floor was deafening as he sprang to his feet.

 

The board, blank just yesterday, was filled with equations today. 

 

Without a second thought, Jayce bolted, heart hammering against his ribcage in unconceivable hopefulness. 

 

As he rounded the thick pillar, his eyes found nothing but two empty desks. 

 

Yet… there were belongings in them. Notebooks, a couple of awaiting noodle cups, and a bundle of books from the library. 

 

A shaky exhale slipped through his lips. 

 

Could… Could it be?

 

Could Viktor not have left? 

 

Jayce moved closer to the board, curiosity burning through him like a comet ablaze, crossing the darkened numbness that had begun nuzzling within. 

 

He recognised the shape of those numbers, the tilt in that handwriting. 

 

His chest constricted with sudden, elated relief. 

 

He's still here. 

 

Maybe they'd just about missed each other yesterday. Maybe Viktor had been busy and only visited the lab in the late hours of the night. 

 

He's still here.

 

That's all that truly mattered.

 

A cautious flicker of optimism quickly sparked to life, and Jayce returned to his corner.

 

Even so, another day crept past without any sign of his former lab partner. Viktor never showed.

 

With a now persistent heavy sigh, Jayce left at sunset.

 

The following morning, after dropping his lapple bag atop his workstation, the first thing Jayce did was approach Viktor's board. 

 

There were new equations there, novel material, fresh hypotheses that hadn't been there the day before. 

 

It was the only confirmation he needed.

 

Viktor was still around, simply out of sight. 

 

And that was enough for that enveloping nothingness to flinch back into its hole.

 

During the next couple of days, Jayce’s first task the moment he set foot in the lab was to check Viktor’s workspace. Any change would be further evidence that he was still in Piltover, and that tether kept him anchored to reality. 

 

On a random Thursday, as the day was coming to an end, Jayce put in some effort to push through the tiredness in his mind to finish the long equation on his board. 

 

As he gave it a last revision before heading home, he caught that he'd mistaken his summation symbol for a division. Which, unfortunately, meant he had to begin again. 

 

Groaning, he grabbed the eraser. When he made a move to wipe away his calculation, his hand stilled. 

 

He stared. Curiosity peeked inside his mind.

 

The eraser hovered with a slight tremble over his erroneous math. 

 

Slowly, he lowered it once more, leaving the mistake untouched.

 

If Viktor had coaxed him to return, perhaps Jayce could too. 

 

///

 

It took two days. 

 

The moment Jayce waltzed into the lab and caught sight of the rearrangement in his equation, his lips curled into a grin. 

 

Viktor just couldn't help himself, could he? 

 

And now, he finally had the perfect excuse. 

 

He reached for a pen on his desk and scribbled on a Post-it. 

Dear Dr. Jedlitzka,

Beware! There seems to be a ghost with mathematical prowess on the loose. They will rudely rewrite your equations. 

Best,

J 

He strolled to the other side of the lab and slapped the note in the center of Viktor's workstation. 

 

The following morning, to Jayce's hidden delight, there was a square yellow paper adorning the center of his desk. 

Dear Dr. Talis,

I'm fairly certain you summoned it with your egregious mathematical skills. To avoid further encounters, I recommend revising your work after you finish it, for once. Just a thought.

I know you don't have those often, hence the assist.

Salutations,

Dr. Jedlitzka

The faux-formality made Jayce want to laugh. His smile stretched as he read and reread the Post-it. 

 

Then, he crafted a reply.

Dear Dr. Jedlitzka, 

Why would I correct it when a ghost will do it for me? Sounds like a winning deal. 

Best,

J

Dear Dr. Talis, 

Concurrent to your personality, to take someone else's work and call it your own. 

Salutations,

Dr. Jedlitzka

Dear Dr. I’m Better Than Everyone Else,

Ouch. 

Still, I encourage you to come disembowel me at a closer distance.

J

Dear Dr. Talis,

I can disembowel you from where I stand, just fine. 

Salutations,

Dr. Jedlitzka

Salutations! 

That you can… but don't you miss seeing my entrails splatter on the floor? 

By your hand, no less.

J 

Dear Insupportable Creature,

All I have to do for that is close my eyes and think of happy times. 

Sincerely,

Dr. Jedlitzka. 

Dear Emotional Constipation Turned Man,

Good to know you relate me to happy times.

Also, are you avoiding me? 

J

Dear Styrofoam-Brained Egoist,

I don't. 

And this will come as a shock, but not everything revolves around you.

Sincerely,

Dr. Jedlitzka

Dear Croc-Thief Enthusiast,

You're right, that is shocking. 

Have you finally given in to your vampiric nature, then? 

J 

Dear Moronic Headboard Banger,

Unlike you, I don't take from others to sustain myself. You're mistaking my nature for your own. 

Sincerely,

Dr. Jedlitzka

It had become a new routine. Each morning, the first thing Jayce did was beeline towards his desk to discover the Post-it of the day. 

 

There was no mistaking Viktor’s anger, it pulsed from each written sentence with a thrum that was almost violent.

 

But for once, Jayce wasn’t inclined to meet fire with fire. In truth, he was simply glad they were talking at all, as unconventional and unsavory as it might have seemed. 

 

Over time, their exchanges expanded beyond neat yellow stickers on their respective desks. 

 

Another day, Jayce left a note on Viktor’s coffee machine saying, I can still smell this, and it's atrocious.

 

To which Viktor responded with, If I am forced to gag daily on the remnants of your cologne, you can be a big boy and tolerate the far less offensive scent of coffee, on his monitor.

 

On a different occasion, Jayce struck again and left the sticky paper on one of Viktor's noodle cups.

 

Back to this tasteless nightmare? Why do you hate yourself? Apart from the obvious reasons, of course.

 

To which Viktor replied by leaving the Post-it on Jayce's seat.

 

That's rich. There's only one thing I hate in my immediate vicinity, and it isn't myself. 

Ps: are you really lecturing me in taste when I was a direct victim of your appalling hats?

 

Jayce stared, eyes tracing each word and inevitably flickering back to that second sentence. His chest tightened.

 

But what was he expecting, really? 

 

All that bitterness will give you wrinkles, Dr. Jedlitzka.  

 

Jayce cracked one of the books in Viktor's desk on the page purposefully marked. He hid his note in the middle of it. 

 

A couple of days later, Jayce's eraser crinkled when he went to wipe his board. Brows pinched, he rotated it. 

 

Worth it. 

 

A huff of air shot through Jayce’s nose at the yellow square before him. 

 

Although time trickled by as he lay in wait for the following note, there was one particular conversation that was uninvitedly bubbling to the surface.  

 

As for me… I still don’t feel like I’m quite back yet.

 

The sentiment that Viktor had shared with his mother at the cemetery was eating at him, still replaying weeks after its occurrence. It sneaked up on an uncomfortable loop whenever Jayce was distracted enough not to know it was lurking. 

 

Then, one afternoon, inspiration struck with a simple idea. Jayce decided to go on a mission. 

 

When he returned to the lab, Jayce didn't head to his desk. Instead, he took a sharp right. When he rounded the column, he stood in front of Viktor's empty work space, quietly assessing. 

 

After studying different alternatives, he decided to place the red-tipped crassula on a cabinet behind his desks– somewhere it didn't demand attention, or act as impertinent pressure for interaction.  

 

Lola 2.0

 

That's all he wrote on the yellow Post-it he left glued to the pot, as a semblance of an explanation for the sudden appearance of the succulent in Viktor's personal space.

 

For the first time in two weeks, Jayce returned to the lab and found no new messages awaiting him. Not that day, or the one after. None for the remainder of the week. 

 

He searched for them, regardless. 

///

It was official.

 

Viktor was fucking stupid. 

 

He'd tried to keep his distance. Truly, he had. 

 

But it was useless– he was trapped by the very nature of his nebby ego.

 

After all of the effort to avoid stumbling into Jayce, he had betrayed himself to the fullest by interacting with him in an entirely new way. 

 

Every night, he waited patiently by a park bench within the Academy grounds. And every night, he bided his time until his gaze snagged on one Jayce Talis descending the steps of the main entrance, monitoring his figure as it headed toward the parking lot. Only when his car pulled away did Viktor rise from his seat and head to work. 

 

He'd hoped keeping away from Jayce would help bring a semblance of normalcy to his mind. That it would assist with resettling into his rooted beliefs. 

 

Instead, it had only made it worse. 

 

Despite his attempts to pretend otherwise, whenever Viktor stepped into the lab, he sauntered to his desk with itchy curiosity stuck between clenched teeth. 

 

He didn't want to feel it. He didn't want to be anywhere near it. 

 

And still, that irrational withdrawal overtook any logical commands. 

 

After stumbling upon the red-tipped crassula in his cabinet, the world had stopped around him. His heart had lurched in his chest with a symphony of brutal recognition. 

 

In an instant, he was transported to his childhood– sitting in the back of yet another car, accompanied by one more pair of fleeting foster parents. The backpack with the few of his possessions was always stuffed in the trunk. 

 

But never Lola. 

 

Some insisted he cram her with the rest of his belongings, out of fear that the pot could slip from his hands and scatter soil and dirt all over the backseat.

 

Every time, he refused. He clutched her in his lap, ensuring she was safe in his embrace.

 

Lola had been the only living thing that had been a constant in his childhood. Even though he’d had more than one of those succulents, to him they represented one and the same. 

 

It had been the sole piece of home he’d ever been able to call his own. 

 

Viktor was stunned that Jayce remembered such a detail about him. One he'd merely mentioned in passing.

 

Seven plus years, holding on to that detail. Viktor was speechless. 

 

One that only Jayce Talis, of all the people on this godforsaken earth, knew of its existence, in the first place.

 

Why had he done this?

 

It… moved Viktor. 

 

Which he despised. The realization had made him instantly nauseous, his stomach threatening to spill its contents with the dissonance of the incomprehensible act.

 

The push and pull in his mind was becoming tortuous. 

 

Viktor had placed the succulent on the corner of his desk, and he’d found himself staring at it for longer than he'd care to admit. 

 

It was a profound, sensory fulfilling, comfort. 

 

Soft to the touch. Beautiful to look at. Earthy scent. It all mixed into a gentle kiss, pressed against his brain.

 

But with that comfort came guilt, returning with a mighty vengeance to churn his insides.

 

He'd been circumventing Jayce to the best of his ability, that much was true. 

 

But… It no longer sat right that Viktor had made a promise, and then purposefully hid in order to avoid keeping it. 

 

And Viktor was equally surprised that Jayce had not brought up the topic, hadn’t demanded answers. The lack of insistence, for some unconceivable reason, only made the guilt sting sharper. 

 

So, instead of heeding those catalytic thoughts, he let his fury guide the scrawl of his pen in a new note. 

Jayce,

What will it take for you to stop accosting me with notes? 

The following evening, Viktor found his response. 

Viktor,

You need only ask. 

J 

Decided, he left only two words.

I ask.

And that was the end of it.

///

A week later 

 

Unavoidably, Viktor was obliged to attend the gala at the Academy, held for the competitors engaging in the crystal project. 

 

Viktor despised these affairs, couldn't stomach having to stand around all night making conversation with no real purpose beyond showing his face. 

 

Especially dreadful when Viktor couldn’t pretend to forget that Talis would be in attendance. 

 

The past week had been heavenly quiet. It had been all Viktor had been yearning for since learning that he’d be sharing a lab with that man.

 

And yet, he hadn't managed to fully enjoy it. 

 

The silence was a rupture to his routine, and any disruption to his accustomed patterns caused heavy discomfort. 

 

Viktor found himself absentmindedly perusing his effects as he worked, fingers sifting through pages, hidden compartments peaked through, searching for something he'd demanded be put to rest.

 

Clearly, his instincts could not be trusted whenever Talis was present, and that looming fact left an acrid taste in his mouth. 

 

For that very reason, Viktor had made a conscious effort to avoid glancing in Jayce's direction all night. 

 

He'd caught a glimpse of him, wearing a forest-green suit jacket over a black shirt and tasteful black pants. 

 

The fact that it suited him so pissed Viktor further off.

 

In order to keep his mind from drifting, Viktor had been actively engaging with whoever was around him, letting his brain be captivated by other fields, new prospects for what the crystal could offer. 

 

Every so often, his relentless focus was interrupted by a methodical, deep laughter echoing from afar, commandeering his attention. 

 

Talis laughed like a wealthy man, now. It was no longer raspy. It no longer cracked his voice and turned it croaky. 

 

No, he laughed like one of them. Measured and perfected. 

 

It was the most hideous of sounds.

 

No matter who he was interacting with, whenever that sound reached his senses, Viktor lifted the drink perched on his fingers to his lips and took a long sip. 

 

He was getting drunk rather expeditiously.

 

Thoroughly avoiding Talis in the lab had been its own challenge, but now that he was present in the room, that same task demanded a whole new set of tools that were eager to slip through Viktor's fingers.

 

He didn’t let his eyes wander in his direction, but the painfully persistent cognizance of his whereabouts remained. That detestable, ruinous drug turning into a siren song by presence alone.

 

And despite reminding himself that the only outcome that resulted from following that sweet melody was brutal murder, it beckoned all the same. 

 

It was driving Viktor mad. 

 

In fact, it was slowly infuriating him to be forced to perceive it, to begin with. 

 

So when his eyes flickered to a broad figure slipping through the crowd only to find refuge in the balcony, Viktor did not have much of a thought process. His limbs moved of their own accord, pain shooting up his leg due to the purposefulness behind his movement.

 

When Jayce heard the door click, he distractedly pivoted only to clash with Viktor's glare. 

 

His eyes widened, but a smile hijacked his expression. 

 

"As I live and breathe,” he greeted with coated amusement. “He lives!" His brows scrunched together. "Why do you look pissed, already?" 

 

"I hate your laugh," Viktor blurted out rather venomously. 

 

A surprised exhale escaped Jayce’s lips. He shook his head, turning his back as he bent forward and rested his forearms on the rail. Viktor approached with a few steps and positioned himself beside him, eyes fixed on the horizon. 

 

The edges of his vision were slightly fuzzy due to the champagne, and for a moment, he wished he were thrice as drunk.

 

“Be honest, why don't you?” Jayce muttered.

 

Viktor hummed. 

 

“It's fake.”  

 

Jayce pressed his lips together. “I see.” A short breath shot out of his nose, and when he spoke next, the lightness to his tone had returned. “For the record, that was not an actual invitation.”  

 

Viktor kept his focus on the distant, blinking lights greeting from the darkened sea.

 

“Stop saying things you don't mean, then.” 

 

Jayce tilted his head toward him. “Is that something you think I do often?” 

 

Viktor scoffed. “I don't waste my time thinking about you." 

 

The tension in the silence between them thickened. 

 

“But yes,” he added unexpectedly. 

 

Jayce’s eyes dipped to Viktor's feet, before he straightened his head and returned to the view before them.

 

“You're back to the cane,” he offered softly.

 

Viktor gave a quiet nod. “Mm.” 

 

“Are you fully recovered?” 

 

Viktor held his tongue, but his fractured resolve was no match to that ruinous narcotic.

 

“Yes.” 

 

Ah, fuck. After a single question, his anger was beginning to fizzle.

 

In truth, it was vaguely humiliating.

 

But he couldn't not ask. 

 

Not after Jayce was the sole reason for his survival, as well as his rehabilitation. 

 

“Are you?” 

 

Jayce threw him a small smile. 

 

“Getting there.” 

 

It was unthinkable how, despite not seeing each other for over a month, it did not feel that way at all. 

 

Whenever Jayce was out of sight, Viktor had the sensation of not having seen him in years. Yet, the moment Jayce was before him, all of it vanished, returning Viktor to the inkling of having seen him just yesterday.

 

Emboldened by his inebriated state, Viktor loosened his tongue to scratch an itch he'd suppressed with trained expertise.

 

“Why did you buy her?” 

 

Silence. 

 

Only then did Viktor shift, pinning his eyes to the side of Jayce’s face. Stooped over the rail, his stature a little below eye level. Viktor allowed it to fuel his courage. 

 

“Lola,” he clarified.

 

Jayce turned. Met his eyes. Blinked. 

 

“Oh. Um.” He rose to his full height, hand curling the metal rail as his body adjusted to face Viktor's. “You mentioned feeling… off, in Piltover. Thought she might help.” 

 

Dammit. Viktor would have preferred to hear Jayce confess to some twisted plan to torture him. 

 

Viktor arched his brow, intrigued by his seemingly genuine tone.

 

“And why would you do that?” 

 

“Styrofoam brain, I'm afraid,” Jayce replied automatically. 

 

Viktor snorted, and Jayce's lips twitched. 

 

At that moment, Viktor found that he was drunk enough to find yet another kernel of bravery, one sufficient to rip off the bandage with a single pull.

 

If he got this obligation done with quickly, perhaps they could return to a blank slate between them. Hopefully, keep it that way this time. 

 

“I, eh– I owe you the loss of a bet, I believe.” 

 

The corners of Jayce's mouth tilted upward, and the self-satisfaction, although attempted to be concealed, was oozing out of him. 

 

“It seems you do.” 

 

Viktor had a deadpan stare on his face. “Can you try to be less full of yourself about it?" 

 

"Sure." Jayce cleared his throat ceremoniously and placed a hand over his heart. "I'm in humbled disbelief," he promised with a solemn tone, despite the gleam in his eye deepening. 

 

Viktor kept his expression intact. "That was a pitiful attempt."

 

His smile broadened as he clucked his tongue. "I just can't win with you." Yet again, he shifted to face the twinkling lights far below. "Although, I will confess that the sudden lack of your insidious clacking has been nothing short of heavenly."

 

Viktor made a low sound in his throat. “What happened to enjoying hearing me suffer?”  

 

Jayce shrugged, ever so casually. "I'm adaptable." 

 

Viktor rolled his eyes. 

 

Another quiet passed between them. 

 

“Should we get it over with?” 

 

His eyes grew large, both of his brows accompanying the movement. “Now?” 

 

“Yes.” 

 

A spark lit behind Jayce's entire expression. “And get the fuck out of here? You're speaking my language.” 

 

Intentionally misleading, when Viktor had been a witness to Jayce's enjoyment of people's attention in social environments. To say the least. 

 

Viktor truly had no idea who this man really was.

 

He exhaled tightly. 

 

“Come, then,” he invited regardless as he rotated toward the balcony door to head back inside. “Let's go to the lab.” 

 

Jayce bowed faintly, gesturing him forward with an open arm.

 

“After you.” 

Notes:

TW: casual drinking, abandonment trauma

///

I fell in love with Mel the moment she offered that counselor a child's puzzle and HE LOVED IT (and struggled with it throughout the season, she's hilarious for that). Also, polyamorous lesbianism, here we come. Also love them as friends ;)

poor bby jayce and his horrid abandonment issues D; also the lack of emotional permanence (where my ADHD'rs at?) can be quite brutal at times. out of sight, out of existence D;

POST ITS ARE BAAAAACK :D

dude v is going through it. I can only imagine feeling like you hate this guy, truly, hate his guts, but also... cant help... ya know.

SLOWLY BUT SURELYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY LES GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I hope you're have an amazing (however long until we see each other)

As always, any feedback and/or overall opinion is not only welcome, but deeply motivating and appreciated <3 truly

tooodalooooo!

Chapter 29: Lie to me, Viktor.

Summary:

crystal projecttttts

Notes:

TW IN ENDNOTES

hi beautiful monarchs!!!

terrible, truly horrendous science ahead- it was vigorously pulled out of my behind

MESSY WARNING ;)

have fun!!!!!! sending virtual hugs for those whod like one

Viktor sauntered through the empty halls of the Academy, heavily leaning on his cane. 

 

Standing all night making conversation had taken its foreseeable toll. 

 

Even though the alcohol had numbed any physical discomforts at first, now alone, Viktor's leg prickled in pain, shooting up his limb in a displeasure that crawled up his spine. 

 

Except, he wasn't alone. 

 

Jayce was walking beside him.

 

Viktor kept his eyes fixed on the corridor ahead, but the fleeting side glances coming from his former lab partner were hard to miss. 

 

Of all of the different things to focus on, Viktor had decided to platform the discontent in his mind that insisted on grumbling over how incorrect Jayce's face was without his glasses. 

 

Jayce's shoulders were tense; there was no mistaking it. Still, he made his way with the same elegance he always had. 

 

His pace felt excruciatingly slow. Not because Viktor was particularly restless, but between accommodating to Viktor’s reluctant pace and his inexplicably long legs, every step was a lesson in leisured movement. 

 

The knot in Viktor's throat tightened further once they entered the lab. 

 

Just the thought of opening his mouth and sharing his mind with Jayce was confoundingly petrifying. 

 

Viktor came to a stop in the middle of the lab, eyes glued to Jayce's desk only a few steps away. He was meant to turn right and head for his nook, but his feet had turned stubborn.

 

“Viktor?” Jayce asked softly. 

 

“You go first,” he blurted. 

 

The strained voice came out of his throat with a desperate need for flight. 

 

Amidst the sudden silence, Jayce shifted in place. After a moment, he stepped in front of Viktor, prompting his gaze to lift and collide with a distinguishable hazel, gentle in its search for answers Viktor refused to voice directly. 

 

Viktor maintained his neutral expression, despite the weight pressing on his chest at that touchless caress behind Jayce's cautious interest.

 

“You…” Jayce cleared his throat. Glanced back and his desk before carefully returning his studious attention. “You want to hear about my idea?” 

 

The vulnerability in his voice wrapped around every word, an innocent embrace that rang with a familiarity Viktor knew far too well. It was quiet and fragile, and he hated himself for wanting to protect it. 

 

“Yes. I will tell you about mine after.” 

 

Jayce hesitated still, those green hues continuing to dart over Viktor's expression. 

 

Then, his lips began to stretch. 

 

A tilt turned into an unexpected smile. It continued to grow and, inevitably, a subdued warmth took over Jayce’s features– one that radiated from within.

 

“Okay,” Jayce quietly conceded. Those eyes ripped away from Viktor as they did a quick scan of their surroundings before swiftly returning with a newfound gleam. “Okay.” 

 

Jayce whirled towards his workstation, resolutely pulling off his jacket and tossing it over the table. 

 

Fearlessly, he jumped right in.

 

“In my case, I've been working around the parameters I established when I first studied the crystal. As you know, the energy within it sort of… pulses. It's not particularly stable to begin with, which complicates everything exponentially. Worse still,–”

 

As he conversed, Jayce wheeled his chair in front of his chalkboard. He removed the trash bag from its container, tied it, and left it to the side. He brought the empty can and flipped it over in front of the seat. 

 

“–is that I couldn’t find a pattern for those energy spikes predictable enough to provide any sense of stability for me to play around with. Or safely build upon. So instead…” 

 

Viktor stood frozen in place as his eyes tracked Jayce's every movement. Jayce strolled past, swiftly disappearing behind the stone pillar and into Viktor’s personal space. Jayce's voice grew muffled by the distance, but he spoke louder to compensate. 

 

“I decided to build an energy buffer. That way, I can accumulate that excess power for later use.” 

 

When Jayce emerged anew, he had three giant pillows huddled between his arms.

 

“I truly didn’t know how to work around it in any other way that could be beneficial. And to ignore it just seemed like a waste of its true potential.” 

 

He positioned one cushion in the backrest, one in the seat, and another atop the trash can. 

 

Mid-explanation, he turned the chalkboard on itself, showing Viktor the back, which was usually facing the wall and out of sight.

 

He began to roll up his sleeves as he continued, “Of course, that would be at the discretion of whoever inhabits the suit. That reserve can be utilised depending on the needs of the user and whatever activity they’re undergoing– oh, wait. I haven't even told you what it is yet.” He paused and pivoted to look for Viktor. His brows scrunched. “Aren't you going to sit down?” 

 

Viktor blinked as his mind returned to his body. 

 

He was lost as to what to focus on first. 

 

The chair Jayce had set up for his comfort? The way Jayce’s calloused fingers delicately rolled up his sleeves and gave way to lean forearms? The realistic schematic on the board? 

 

He zeroed in on the last one.

 

The mere sight of it caused Viktor’s innards to clench and snatched his breath away. 

 

A quick sketch for what looked like a mechanical suit stared back at Viktor.

 

Even from a distance, and despite not knowing anything about it yet… Viktor already knew.

 

He was about to be invited into something remarkable.

 

To Viktor's chagrin, he was drawn in like a moth to a flame. At the mercy of his unmanageable death wish, as well as his disoriented instincts, he stalked forward.

 

Jayce waited for him to settle against the comfy surface he'd laid out for him, cane coming to rest between Viktor's legs. Jayce ardently watched as Viktor eased his aching limb atop the trash can. 

 

The pain relief of elevating his leg was both profound and immediate. 

 

In his tipsy state, Viktor couldn’t temper the shaky sigh that fled his lips.

 

The sound, unfortunately, coaxed a genuine smile out of Jayce. 

 

“So,” he proceeded once satisfied, turning his back to address his work. “The idea would be that its functionality could vary depending on what's needed, first. The main concept is for heavy-duty labor– to help workers lift heavy blocks of rock or break them apart, for example. Since the crystal recharges the suit, the effort needed to accomplish any of that manual labor (in this particular example) would be decreased by approximately 344%. Math checks out, so far.” 

 

The more he shared, the more his eyes glowed, the more animated Jayce’s hands and overall gestures become, and the more randomly scattered in his arguments. Viktor followed each movement, utterly transported into a completely different timeline.

 

With eerie ease, he let himself drown in the swirl that begged to pull him under. 

 

In all sincerity, he was helpless against it. It was like a call to his very own nature, one that currently kept Viktor hanging on every spoken word.

 

“I also drew a compatible sketch for miners. That suit would include readily available tools that can shift into whatever is needed: shovel, pickaxe, drill, electric shear… You name it. As you can see, they'd go here and here,” he signaled. “The suit would also protect workers from cave-ins, see? I added these layers for impact absorption, which, coincidentally, also help with thermal resistance! How cool is that? They go hand in hand with the shock-displacement system along the spine, for landslides. And in addition to that, I, of course, added an air purifier inside the helmet to protect workers from inhaling airborne toxins.” Jayce rubbed his chin absent-mindedly. “I don't know, I just… The possibilities seem endless if we apply a little imagination.” 

 

I, of course, added an air purifier inside the helmet.

 

Of course.

 

As if it were the most obvious notion in the world.

 

Jayce finally turned towards Viktor, a complacent curve to his mouth. 

 

But Viktor was immobilised. 

 

An invisible force was gripping his windpipe, and he was completely unable to swallow it down. 

 

The hypothetical prototype was…Thoughtful. Comfortably hollow on the inside so a person could fit inside it without strain, prioritised for durability and protection. 

 

To Viktor’s astonishment, it didn’t seem claustrophobic, but… purely ergonomic. 

 

The attention to detail was equally as extraordinary– in the extensive visor in the front of the helmet, lined inside with padded support; in the neural-responsive circuitry connecting the entire model, cleverly tucked out of sight. In the fact that any aesthetic could be considered irrelevant with such a needed innovation, especially during the rudimentary stages of its conceptualisation, and still Jayce hadn’t discarded it in its entirety. Not in the slightest. 

 

It wasn't beautiful the way a flower was beautiful, or a butterfly, or a sunset. The design was curt, angular, the build meant for strength and raw power. Despite the careful attention to each joint, it still came across as impenetrable. Refined, in its way, with each sharp line that ensured not to sacrifice mobility.

 

It looked massive, especially when compared to the human figure drawn beside it for scale. But still, rendered with intimate features that transformed it into something personal. 

 

It was virtuous. Inspired. 

 

Unique.

 

And this was a mere summary of his work.

 

Viktor couldn't help but feel slightly envious. He was reminded now, more than ever in the last eight years, that Jayce’s soul was that of an artist. Pure in its talent, blunt in its precious material. Regardless of any other truths, this one hit Viktor in the moment with the force of a thousand suns. 

 

A fingerprint, indeed. 

 

A laugh wanted to bubble out of Viktor the longer he analysed those precise lines on the board. At the sheer thought that Talis had once felt the compulsive need to sign his notes.

 

What for? 

 

Viktor had never met anyone with so much visual creativity, one that overflowed into a craftsmanship that he was certain could not be replicated, unless created by those same hands. That same talent. That same mind. 

 

Whatever Jayce birthed had his name all over it, regardless. 

 

Here lay the proof.

 

Viktor's ears roared, his hands trembled. There were an unfathomable number of questions slicing his brain, so many things he wanted to say, and yet no words came out of his mouth. 

 

“Viktor?” Jayce asked, his brows knitting together as his eyes scanned his frame. Pensive, he glanced at his work. Then, back to Viktor. “What is it?” 

 

“You tested it?” Viktor managed to finally ground out. 

 

“Only the energy supply with the conductors I had in mind, as well as the energy buffer. The rest is mostly theoretical. But the build will be the easiest part for me, you know that.” 

 

Yes. Viktor did know that. 

 

Viktor was painfully aware of the fact that when Jayce dreamed something into being, it became.

 

It was in his blood. 

 

Sitting in that chair was its own awakening of sorts. Something Viktor had never allowed himself to miss now throbbed inside his ribcage in painful recognition.

 

Viktor slowly lowered his foot onto the floor and pushed himself into a stand. 

 

His stomach kept flip-flopping like a fish pulled out of water the closer he got to the schematics, and he was secretly mortified that Jayce might see through him. Especially considering he was burning a hole in the side of Viktor's face. 

 

What was most baffling of all was that Piltover did not harbor any mines. 

 

The only place anywhere nearby that had them was–

 

Viktor swallowed.

 

Jayce had built his suit… For Zaun.

 

And that understanding was squeezing his gut to the point of pain. 

 

As he neared the board, Jayce retreated. Viktor’s digit lifted, and in a daze, it traced the side of those lines, careful not to smudge the purposefully meticulous design. 

 

Viktor softly tapped his finger against it.

 

There was no need for further expansion for Jayce to understand his query. 

 

“I am tired of seeing people die down there,” he explained with a murmur. “Aren't you?” 

 

“Yes,” Viktor admitted after a moment.“Yes, I am.” 

 

Especially considering the fact that the lack of resources in Zaun was largely to do with how much Piltover had stripped away from them over the centuries. Thirty-two years of independence hadn't been enough to rebuild an economy. To train people to have other skills, or to substitute the methods ingrained in outdated, unnecessarily life-threatening jobs– especially when those were the backbone of what little economy they were building upon. Prospering would take decades. 

 

But this could help.

 

“It's wonderful.” Only then did Viktor’s eyes flicker toward Jayce, who had patiently folded his hands behind his back and stood to the side, observing every gesticulation. “Thank you for showing me this.” 

 

Jayce’s throat bobbed. 

 

“Thank you for wanting to know.”

 

It wasn't a complete stranger staring back. 

 

At this precise moment, it was the semblance of a memory of Viktor's once dearest friend. 

 

The man who'd always craved to build something in the hopes of providing any form of assistance to the world around him– except now fashioning a beard.

 

Why else would he have thought of this?

 

That common thread thrummed between them, a pull too fierce to ignore, which only encouraged Viktor to share his idea. He was surprised to find that, right now– he wanted to.

 

Not for any reason other than the newly surged need to receive input from a mind not dissimilar to his own.

 

As throttlable as that mind was.

 

“Come on,” Viktor invited with a gentle tilt of his head. “My turn.” 

 

It was hard to miss Jayce’s newly blooming smile before Viktor pivoted, turning his back to head toward his corner of the lab. After a few steps, Viktor heard the creaky wheels of a chair trailing close behind.

 

Before Viktor lowered himself to his seat, Jayce grabbed the pillows stacked on his moving furniture and offered them silently. Viktor accepted them, murmuring his thanks, before positioning them as they had been before. Once settled, he logged into the program. Jayce sat across from him, ankle resting over his knee as Viktor typed on his keyboard.

 

“I was personally inspired when I spoke to Sevika,” Viktor started, eyes locked onto his monitor as he clacked. “She was complaining about her arm not fully responding to her needs, or suffering a delayed processing of her demands. She mentioned how she'd wished her prosthetic had a mind of its own to read her thoughts, and, well– why not?” 

 

Jayce raised a brow.

 

“I am in the process of programming an A.I. that could completely synchronize to the crystal's… Temperament, if you will. One that can fully master and comprehend its cues– that’s the main goal of the project. But since that was too straightforward for my taste, I came up with a second idea to showcase the first. So, I am tweaking the A.I. so that it can learn other projects related to the crystal and offer its proficient understanding of it. In relation to their personal objectives, that is.”

 

“That’s pretty cool,” Jayce admitted carefully. “What’s your proposal?”

 

“The idea that I came up with that most intrigued me revolves around neurologically connecting the A.I. to someone paraplegic and assisting them to live independently– as long as they have some semblance of conscience the program can recognise and translate, of course.” 

 

The clacks of his keyboard were awfully loud in the abrupt silence. 

 

“How– how could an A.I. help someone walk?” 

 

“I'm getting there,” Viktor muttered, the corners of his lips eager to lift at Jayce’s perceived impatience. He squandered the urge. 

 

“Ah, here it is.” 

 

Viktor turned his screen, inviting Jayce to get a closer look. The man squinted, attempting to make sense of what was before him, before he inclined his torso.

 

“It’s a theoretical design only, considering this is not my strong suit. The crystal would provide the electrical dosage needed to charge a contraption of this sort, while the A.I. would be responsible for managing it. Hypothetically."

 

Jayce’s eyes were darting all over the screen. 

 

“It… It looks like a nervous system.” 

 

Viktor pressed his lips together to keep them from curving upward. 

 

“Yes. A bit rudimentary for now. I’d like it to attach to the person from behind and take over their motor functions.”

 

_ _ _ 

It was… Nothing like Jayce had ever seen before. 

 

It truly was a replica of the nervous system, except it only seemed to cling to the posterior side of the body. It was composed of flowy, silvery tendrils that curved around the person's frame and followed the natural lines of the musculoskeletal structure. 

 

It started from the base of the skull, where a group of conductive filaments wrapped around the sides of their nape, and thickly descended with the line of the spine. From that base, they spread out in a thousand riverbeds, curving around shoulders, coiling around joints–elbows, wrists, knuckles, hips, knees, ankles–and even trickling all the way down to the tips of their fingers. 

 

Jayce’s heart was hammering inside his chest. 

 

Could this even… Work?

 

The mechanics of it seemed profoundly challenging. What kind of metal could be malleable enough to wrap around a body and mold to fluid movement, whilst being equipped to hold the full weight of a human being?

 

Jayce lowered both feet to the floor to lean in further, letting his professional intrigue take the wheel.

 

If it was feasible, and Viktor managed to stick it to someone who could not move of their own accord… That would be life-changing. Not only for the freedom it would offer, but also–

 

“You'd be boosting circulation and muscle movement, as well,” he voiced in a stupor, taking in every inch of the design. “Keep their body active and ease the threat of atrophy or constant dependence.” 

 

Viktor blinked in surprise. “Yes.” 

 

“What material is this?” Jayce gestured to the silvery tendrils.

 

Viktor offered a slight grimace. “I’m hoping that once the A.I. is set up, it will help me decide.” 

 

“Oh.” Jayce glanced beyond the screen. “And you think A.I. could commandeer it?” 

 

Viktor hummed. “It would be programmed to. Beyond that, even– I want it to record their vitals, symptom data, and other recognisable patterns. In such a case, the system could do more than merely respond– it could anticipate. It could mimic imagination, or detect when something is wrong and call for help if needed. Which would make it more than a mere processor, but a sort of… friendly auxiliary. An expert on the crystal, but also an expert on the body it's assisting. In this example.” 

 

Jayce was nodding along. “And the crystal would also power the A.I.?” 

 

“Of course.” Viktor exhaled tightly. "Unfortunately, I am still cracking the section of the code where the A.I. can do a swift scan to determine any limitations in each passing moment. As you said before, the source is stable when utilized within certain parameters, but allows for intriguing oscillation…”

 

“If the host can interpret the signals that forewarn its overuse,” finished Jayce, a soft smile spreading across his lips. 

 

Viktor gave him a curt nod.

 

"In this case, the person would only need to think of what they would like to do for the A.I. to not only carry it through, but also evaluate whether there's enough… juice… in that moment to safely follow through. But if I’m being candid, the program stands on the basis that it could–and should–be extrapolated into other projects that need to make use of the crystal’s day-to-day potential. This prosthetic is just a sample I was intrigued by."

 

Which would mean that the A.I. and the crystal would become one and the same in some way– like a Venn diagram. 

 

“You're not only adapting to the crystal,” murmured Jayce, his eyes darting over the lines around the design with a sense of awe. “You're making the crystal adapt to you.” 

 

The final determinant would be the A.I., instead of the other way around.

 

Viktor tilted his head from side to side, deep in thought.

 

“A symbiosis, of sorts,” he corrected.

 

Ah, fuck.

 

It was incredible. Simple, yet priceless under such a volatile source of energy. 

 

But of course it was– it was Viktor.

 

Viktor had the audacity to appear nonchalant about the whole ordeal.

 

Jayce wondered if he was in a dream, because Viktor's eyes weren't filled with hatred or coldness– they had softened. And there was an acknowledgement behind them that Jayce had not seen in years.

 

But it was damp in comparison to what he remembered. 

 

Even so, it made Jayce feel dizzy with the realization of how profoundly he'd missed that look behind someone's eyes. 

 

Not just any eyes, though– golden, if he were to be honest. 

 

Jayce soaked in the unimaginable moment unfurling between them, where Viktor seemed fortuitously unaware of his walls lowering before him.

 

“How do you teach a language you don't even know how to speak?” Jayce inquired, wonder coating his every word. 

 

“Well,” Viktor continued. “I am going to program it to learn the language on its own, instead. This way, it would be up to the A.I. to continuously adapt and decipher each tell once it starts tinkering with different demands. By establishing its own parameters with each passing moment, it will allow the A.I. to evolve. I thought that perhaps having a fluid understanding might be more compatible, in this case.” 

 

“So it would be up to the A.I. to constantly measure and analyse the energy surges and its transient potential. Record the patterns of use and discharge, as well as know beforehand the wearer's needs in order to be able to reach whatever punch is required for the day and protect the individual's safety.” 

 

Jayce dared to take a peek at his former best friend, his eyes slightly burning.

 

“It's like you're making an entity with the crystal for a heart.” He didn't hide the admiration lacing his tone. “Except this heart talks back. Literally.”

 

Viktor rolled his eyes before he huffed, “Forever the poet.”

 

But to Jayce's astonishment, Viktor was giving him the smallest of smiles. 

 

In the span of a blink, Jayce felt like a child again. His breath caught in his throat as he memorised that minimal curve. 

 

Exhilaration sizzled inside him, at the ready to combust with a thousand different paralleled ideas, and a dozen suggestions. He was transported back to eight years ago, to that static energy that always came hand in hand whenever he was around Viktor. 

 

He set Jayce's brain on fire. 

 

Funnily enough, both in the good and the bad kind. 

 

Right now, it was in the good kind. The kind that made Jayce realise that his mind had been subjected to a deep slumber for a really, really long time.

 

Jayce was tempted to thank every God he didn't believe in.

 

Without drugs or alcohol or nothing, they were speaking without an infinitude of barricades between them. And for a split second, Jayce recognised something that had been covered in dust within him creeping to the surface.

 

He wasn't sure what it was, but it vibrated inside him nonetheless.

 

Jayce was inclined to immortalize the moment, to protect himself from forgetting again. Even if he couldn't quite name the sensation he was so terrified to unknowingly abandon, anew.

 

Parallely, the urge to crush this Viktor into a hug–as well as that astonishing brain of his–was momentarily blinding. Jayce wanted to tell him, God, he wanted to tell him so many th–

 

He snatched the thought with a deadly grip. 

 

Jayce wouldn't be showing any signs that might scare the unpredictable feline back into hiding.

 

Viktor was right in front of him. Attentive, listening, peaceful. All while Jayce was present.

 

Above anything, Jayce was hoping to keep it that way.

 

With a visible swallow, Jayce's eyes darted back to the screen, accompanied by a droplet of sweat slithering down his spine. He felt the ruthless urge to bring the conversation back to common ground before it was too late and he actively ruined this unforseen gift.

 

"Can this... be hacked into?" 

 

Viktor's eyes flickered to the screen before they returned. "Hm?"

 

"Like whatever coding this'll follow must be written somewhere, right?" 

 

Viktor arched his brow, inviting Jayce to continue. 

 

He lowered his voice as if sharing a conspiracy. "This just seems like the kind of thing the villain would tap into in a bad movie to create an army of innocent civilians that bend to his will." 

 

And it was obvious that Viktor couldn't help it. 

 

In a lost fight against his facial muscles, the corners of his mouth wholly lifted of their own volition.

 

Jayce's chest clenched.

 

Viktor pressed his lips together, which turned his smile of disbelief upside down as it was occurring. The fleeting, twinkling amusement in his eyes was locked onto Jayce, regardless.

 

"I can't tell if that's eerily genius or the stupidest thing I've ever heard." 

 

Jayce snorted, eyes roaming through that mind-bending nervous system.

 

"One of the many privileges of my company." Jayce threw him a side-eye, before cocking his head slightly to face him as his own mouth tugged upward. "That perpetual doubt."

 

“Ah, yes,” Viktor nodded. “Must keep everyone on their toes.” 

 

Jayce’s smile broadened. “Wouldn't want to create a misleading expectation.” 

 

“God forbid.”

 

Silence settled between them. 

 

The light behind Viktor’s eyes dulled once more, coated with a vacancy that Jayce could not fully wipe away, no matter what came out of his mouth. 

 

It made Jayce's skin crawl with the urge to dig deeper. He hated to see it on him. 

 

“Can I be honest?” 

 

Amber found him anew. 

 

A tense beat passed before Viktor’s eyes narrowed. “What is it?” 

 

The scratch of Jayce's beard echoed between them as he thought of the right phrasing.

 

“You don't seem… particularly excited about it.” 

 

Viktor dipped his gaze to his keyboard before straightening the screen with a creek. 

 

“I'm not,” he confessed in a low voice.

 

“Why? It's a phenomenal idea.” 

 

Viktor did not return Jayce’s attention. His hair was pinned in a bun at the top of his head, two strands falling to each side of his face. He’d worn a deep green eyeliner today for the gala, which only brought out the honey beneath it. 

 

It was at this moment that Jayce noted his flushed cheeks and his dilated pupils. 

 

Hold on.

 

Was Viktor… drunk?

 

Is that the only way he could stomach speaking to Jayce? 

 

Is that why he’d smiled?!

 

His stomach sank. 

 

“I'm not sure,” Viktor admitted. “I’m just… A bit out of love with my work, I suppose.” 

 

Jayce pushed through his intrusive thoughts to refocus on the topic at hand.

 

“Oh.” He tucked his hair behind his ear to keep it from tickling his cheek. “If you let your mind wander… Is there something else you'd prefer to do?” 

 

Viktor let out a tight exhale. “Like what?”

 

“I don't know. What's something you've always wanted to do but never allowed yourself to?” 

 

Viktor seized his typing and sank against the pillow at his back, eyes pinned to the ceiling in thought. 

 

“Mm.” 

 

“First thing that pops into mind,” Jayce encouraged lightly. “If you share, I will bring you a tupperware with a home-cooked meal on Monday.” 

 

Viktor’s intense consideration dropped to find his. He observed Jayce through slitted eyes for a brief pause.

 

“Are you going to try to poison me?” 

 

Jayce’s mouth stretched into a sly smile. “A gentleman never discloses his good intentions.” 

 

“And since when are you a gentleman?”

 

“Since I’m going to cook extra for you.”

 

“Chicken?” 

 

“Chicken.”

 

“With that wild rice you made?” 

 

“Done.” 

 

Viktor pondered for another moment before he sighed in resignation. “Fine.” 

 

He tapped his finger against the surface of his desk for a quiet interlude. 

 

Finally, the corners of his mouth kicked up. “I've always wanted to create something sentient," he mused with a tender, barely perceptible tilt to his lips. He stared into the distance. "Not just active in coding, but properly alive. Just to see if I could,” he added with faint mischief. He gave a curt nod to his monitor. “This energy is the first I have encountered that could inspire such a thing.” 

 

An echo of a memory reverberated in Jayce's consciousness, the exact sensation coming to pass once again. 

 

A little maniacal there, V. 

 

Jayce’s lips twitched. 

 

Of course, he was still bat-shit crazy. Of course, he would be the one to create something ground-breaking just to prove to himself that he could.

 

Jayce's skin vibrated with the mere thought of it.

 

“Why don't you?” 

 

“Eh,” he shrugged casually. “Too much of a hassle.”

 

Jayce’s brows plummeted towards one another. “Since when has that been a deterrent for you?”

 

Viktor dismissed Jayce's profound perplexity with a flick of his hand. 

 

"I wouldn't even know where to start, or how to code an independent entity. Moreover, what if it doesn't want to be brought to life? I would have to consider the ethical implications of such a creation, and whether I want that sort of responsibility to follow me for the rest of my life. Besides, I'm already struggling with this nervous system, as you so-called it, considering it’s far beyond my area of expertise. Let alone try to make sense of how to give someone a whole, functioning body." 

 

Jayce watched Viktor's expression for a moment before he jumped to his feet, like a coiled spring snapped loose. 

 

He twirled on his heel without uttering a word, long and purposeful strides carrying him across the lab. 

 

He didn't allow himself to think, to consider, to second-guess. 

 

Jayce simply let his gut instinct drive him forward. 

 

When he returned, Viktor had a skeptical look on his face. 

 

Jayce slapped the sheet of paper on the table before Viktor.

 

The sound of the blueprints slamming against wood was deafening in the quiet of the lab. He kept his hands resting against Viktor’s workstation, torso caging a frenzied heartbeat.

 

Jayce gulped the trepidation down his throat. 

 

"Do you mean a body… Like this one?" 

 

Viktor blinked. 

 

Golden irises roamed through the page of Jayce's body suit, brows slowly sliding closer.

 

Finally, his eyes widened out of their socket and Viktor visibly recoiled.

 

"Absolutely not."

 

Jayce crossed his arms. "And why not?" 

 

"Are you out of your goddamn mind?!" Being on the receiving end of that fiery gaze was like a lash led by nothing but deep-rooted fury. "Need I remind you what happened the last time we worked together, Jayce?" 

 

Jayce absorbed the flinch at the deliberate, slicing sound of his name coming out of Viktor's lips. As if his former partner had weaponized it just to wound him. A deeply personalised insult. 

 

Even though Viktor did not conceal his brimming ire, Jayce kept his composure deadly calm. He leaned his knuckles on the desk, edging his chest over Viktor’s personal workspace. 

 

“Viktor,” he enunciated with an unintended, sinister stillness. “I can forge this nervous system. Yes, it will take a long time, and there's an absurd amount of research to go through to check whether or not it's truly possible. But if it came down to it, the solution is staring you right in the face.” 

 

Viktor bore into him, anger pouring out of his merciless glower in waves. 

 

“If you can make something come to life, I can give it an inhabitable body.”

 

_ _ _ 

The thundering in Viktor's chest was robbing him of the quiet needed to slash this man back down to his knees.

 

The insolence.

 

In spite of the thick animosity in the air, there was also a primal electrical current, buzzing and crackling the air between their locked stares.

 

And it wasn't due to their mutual hatred exclusively.

 

They sat in the silence of it. In the swelling thunder of it. 

 

Shit.

 

"Tell me you don't want to do it,” Jayce challenged with a murmur. “Look me in the eyes and tell me there isn't a part of you that's deeply intrigued about what we could accomplish together." 

 

The amperage behind Jayce's attention was erupting to the surface a side of Viktor that hadn't been vibrant in quite some time. 

 

A far-away voice, buried under mountains of self-preservation, that, against all odds, whispered with a maybe. 

 

Traitor, Viktor threw its way.

 

Needless to say, Viktor would sooner choose castration than voicing it aloud.

 

That sea of green kept him pinned in place, robbing Viktor of any logical train of thought that could enact salvation.

 

That goddamn drug in fucking action.

 

Viktor severed the intense thread between them by glancing at his monitor. “I–” 

 

“Look at me,” Jayce interrupted. 

 

Viktor's stomach clenched, which prompted him to bare his teeth as his gaze snapped back to Jayce's. 

 

“Go ahead.” Jayce inched closer with mortal quiet, blazing eyes searing through defenses and directly into Viktor’s soul. “Lie to me, Viktor.” 

 

The intimacy behind his words swallowed whatever misleading malice was about to come out of Viktor's mouth.

 

An unbridled sound of exasperation climbed up his throat instead.

 

Jayce exhaled quietly, eyes still trained on Viktor's.

 

"We could join our ideas,” he gently pressed, determination painted inside every faint indent carving his complexion. “Make a new one. Something no one has ever seen nor will ever see again. We could get this done, Viktor– I know it." 

 

The genuineness in his tone only poked the beast clawing inside Viktor.

 

"Why would I bother?” He spat. “Just so I can have a front-row seat when you assassinate it at the last minute?" 

 

Jayce didn't wince this time. The look behind his expression deepened instead.

 

"Ask me why.” His voice was infuriatingly low. Soothing, even. "Ask me why I sold Blowie, Viktor.” 

 

Viktor pressed his teeth together, his mandible protesting in pain.

 

"I know why."

 

"I don't think you do." 

 

"I'm here, aren't I?" Viktor seethed.

 

Something profound passed behind Jayce's features, but Viktor couldn't even attempt to decipher it at present time.

 

"That's not the full picture." 

 

Huh?  

 

Jayce’s gaze had softened anew, but it kept its insistence.

 

“Ask me,” he whispered. 

 

But Viktor… 

 

He couldn't. He couldn't, he couldn't, he couldn't. 

 

The words were suffocating in his throat, taking the air out of the entire room. 

 

Furniture in his peripheral vision began to blur, and a light-headedness crept in.

 

All Viktor could perceive with clarity was a tenacious thu-bump contending for freedom inside his sternum, pulsating in his neck. 

 

As if his body had interpreted that he was currently being chased by a fucking lion.

 

Asking that question could dismantle his understanding of what had transpired all those years ago, a cemented base he'd heavily leaned on to push forward.

 

Viktor hadn't allowed himself to ask why. He didn't care why.  

 

Jayce had broken his promise. He'd vowed to look after Blowie, and even if he'd used part of the money to pay for Viktor's operation, that had still been a profound–and visceral–betrayal of his wishes. 

 

As if his mother's insurance hadn't covered most of those expenses.

 

As if the rest of that paycheck hadn't fucking enticed him. 

 

As if he hadn't had his own personal reasons to lust after it. 

 

As if he hadn't excluded Viktor from all of it, leaving him to play catch-up in the pitch black.

 

That's all Viktor needed to know.

 

Jayce sighed when no words came out of Viktor's mouth. 

 

“Let me tell you, then.”

 

“Stop,” Viktor hissed. 

 

At last, Jayce straightened, pinching the bridge of his nose while softly massaging it in small circles between the tips of his fingers. 

 

“I'm sorry,” he said after a beat. “I didn't mean to push you, that wasn't fair. I'm sorry.” 

 

And, for some reason, hearing those words come out of Jayce Talis acted like a fire extinguisher, unforeseeably dousing Viktor’s rising rage. 

 

Viktor silently breathed in. Then out. Repeat. 

 

Across from him, Jayce's body folded on itself as he cupped his face into his awaiting palms. His head bowed, his shoulders slumped, and his spine slackened to follow the gesture.

 

The view before Viktor killed the last of his anger. He kindly asked his heart to settle, reassured it that there was no lion in sight. 

 

After a long pause, Jayce steadied himself with a heavy sigh. 

 

“If you ever want the full truth on my end,” he added, a soothing hazel returning to greet Viktor. “I will be here. But it won't be me forcing it upon you, I promise you that.” The tone of his voice eased even further. “It will be your choice to learn of it, and your choice alone.” 

 

The perceived sincere, unthreatening sentiment prompted something inexplicably to shift. 

 

Any lingering frustration melted into… perked curiosity.

 

Viktor's lips parted to speak.

 

“Let me take you home,” Jayce offered delicately, instead. 

 

Viktor closed his mouth.

 

Home sounded perfect, right about now. 

 

“I'll take the bus.” 

 

“Nonsense.” 

 

Viktor took a second to recalibrate.

 

That indisputable tone evoked memories of someone Viktor had adored, someone he'd never get to see again. It struck him like a velvet-covered slap, because in that moment– Jayce reminded him of Meni. 

 

Utterly unthinkable for the Talis’s not to follow through on an act of service. 

 

His lungs squeezed inside him. 

 

A tired mischief sneaked into Jayce’s eyes, yet he kept his voice serene. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I'm not leaving you here–or anywhere for that matter–alone. Not when you're a little drunk.” 

 

Viktor huffed. 

 

They were back to the duel between stares. But it was tame, this time.

 

“What gave it away?”

 

A sad smile tugged upward. “Rosy cheeks.” 

 

It surprised Viktor to find that Jayce would notice such a thing, to begin with.

 

“You're going to be a headache unless I say yes, aren't you?” 

 

“Pretty much.” 

 

“Very well.”

 

Jayce nodded as Viktor made a move to turn off his computer. Meanwhile, Jayce reached for the blueprints on the table and folded them into his pocket. 

 

Both the walk and the ride were dead silent. 

 

Only when Jayce parked in front of Viktor’s apartment did he speak again. 

 

“This is a nice area. I don't think I've ever been to this part of Zaun.” 

 

“It's newly developed.” 

 

“Oh, cool.” He switched the engine off. “I'll bring your things over the weekend.” 

 

Before Viktor could refuse, Jayce dug his hand into his side pocket and retrieved the folded blueprints. He stared at the piece of paper, held between his fingers, before he offered it over his armrest. 

 

“Will you at least think about it?” 

 

Viktor stared at the sheet of paper, dangling between their extensive divide. 

 

"I do not want to stumble over the same rock, Jayce,” he finally admitted with a familiar exhaustion. 

 

Jayce studied his profile while Viktor made an effort to keep perfectly still.

 

“Let's do this differently, then.” 

 

Dropping the blueprints on Viktor's lap, Jayce leaned across to open the glove compartment. 

 

His scent–already embedded in the interior of the vehicle–flooded Viktor without any preemptive warning, hijacking every one of his senses and combining them into one. 

 

It was profoundly overwhelming.

 

Especially because it wasn't completely horrid. 

 

Viktor tipped his head to the side and held his breath. 

 

Jayce pulled out a napkin and a pen. Resting the white canvas against his thigh, he began to scribble. 

 

Viktor, to his continuous demise, waited with a newly developed, irritatingly inescapable wonder. 

 

After a beat, Jayce signed his name. Then, he extended his upturned palm.

 

“Hand me your phone.” 

 

“What for?” 

 

“You'll see.” 

 

Biting the inside of his mouth, Viktor plucked his device from his pocket, unlocked it, and placed it atop the awaiting hand. 

 

Jayce clicked on the audio recording app and pressed play. Then, he read,

 

"I, Jayce Talis, on this day at 2:37 A.M., formally renounce any and all claims of ownership over inventions, discoveries, or innovations resulting from any collaboration with Viktor Jedlitzka. From this day forth, I relinquish the right to final authority over any work, as well as any entitlement to compensation or recognition derived from our partnership. I acknowledge this declaration as final and legally binding.” 

 

Jayce pressed the button to stop recording and handed both the napkin and the phone back to Viktor. 

 

Viktor couldn't do anything but gape.

 

What the fuck?

 

“I've had my moment in the sun,” Jayce said with a murmur, eyes downcast. “I have no interest in going anywhere near it, again.” 

 

For the second time tonight, Viktor had the feeling that he was missing information.

 

And, damn him, if that recently uncovered part of Viktor wasn't faintly tempted to dig deeper. 

 

He should be enjoying this moment; he should be rejoicing over Jayce's obvious remorse.

 

But instead, his heart ached at the underlying pain peeking through each of Jayce's spoken words. 

 

Consequently, Viktor allowed himself some quiet honesty in return.

 

“What's in it for you, then?” 

 

He cocked his head to lock eyes with Viktor.

 

A ghost of a smile dawned on Jayce's mouth.

 

“I want to witness you create the impossible.”

///

If Jayce thought he was collosolly fucked before, now it was a trillion times worse. 

 

There was no return.

 

There was no embracing one last day with his former friend, or accepting that utopian single day of respite. 

 

Jayce was ravenous for far more than that, at this point. There was no question about it anymore– Viktor was the one person in his life–outside family–he could never replace. 

 

The way his fascinating mind worked, his unhinged ideas, his never-ending, inspirational intelligence, his unspoken creativity, his slicing ambition, his show-stopping ability to turn whim into reality– they were all exceptional in every aspect of their being.

 

Jayce had shoved Viktor into a dark room inside himself for years and pretended to forget how his soul sang whenever he was around, surpassing anything he'd ever experienced in his absense with one minimal conversation. Jayce's mind was quick to join Viktor's in the fray and beckoned to soar alongisde it. New ideas effortlessly flared to life, ideas Jayce would have never been able to conjure without Viktor’s inadvertent prompting.

 

The mere act of listening to his theories filled Jayce with an unshakable excitement. 

 

God, it was all coming back to him with a heartless tidal wave, sweeping the last eight years with an obliterating current that washed away the remnants of his anguish. Almost as if it hadn't ever existed. 

 

Except it had.

 

Jayce wondered if, regardless of time and distance, regardless of anything at all, his core would always remember to have burst to life in Viktor’s presence. 

 

That kind of affection couldn't fade. 

 

It made a home out of him and persevered.

 

Because, no matter the outcome, that truth had once been real. And thus, it would be eternally breathing, suspended in that moment in time. Forever untouchable.

 

Worse yet, Jayce now suspected it was real still.

 

To experience his soul grow and eagerly latch onto new prospects– it was a rebirth, of sorts.

 

With Viktor, any growth was irrevocable.

 

Jayce would never stop caring for him. Even if from a distance, even if they never set eyes on each other again after all of this was over. 

 

Jayce was a prisoner of his affection.

 

But, funnily enough, that didn't particularly settle like breaking news. 

 

The last eight years of his life were coming more and more into focus lately.

 

Jayce only had to seek one chance. One opportunity to help Viktor understand, to have that wall lowered enough for Jayce to make the climb. 

 

He would, in a heartbeat. 

 

Today had been further proof. Not of Viktor’s affects, but of their bond. It pounded between them, begging to be unleashed. 

 

Jayce didn't know the first thing about artificial life, and yet he sensed a path carving itself before him without effort. It was a revolutionary concept, and to be a part of it was the reply to a query he'd never been bold enough to voice. 

 

Am I done bringing good into this world? 

 

Did I waste my one chance?

 

Even working on his crystal suit had felt somewhat empty. 

 

But not this. 

 

This grumbled the ground beneath his feet, like an earthquake about to wreak havoc in his life. 

 

One he'd been desperate for. 

 

And yet, the thought gave him pause. The conversation he'd had with Mel rippled to the surface in his consciousness. 

 

Was he making this about himself? 

 

No– the bigger part of why it felt so shattering is because he could be doing it with Viktor. 

 

Did that still constitute as a personal desire?

 

God, this was far too complicated for his mind to comprehend.  

 

Another memory rushed in, uninvited, of Viktor's disgust when proclaiming his laugh to be disingenuous when in public.

 

The comment had profoundly stung at first, especially because Jayce adored Viktor’s laugh. To hear him express the opposite towards him with nothing but disdain had initially carved a fresh wound inside him. 

 

But once he admitted the reason for his distaste, the pressure in Jayce's chest had whisked away. 

 

Because, in truth, Viktor was right. It was fake. Meticulously constructed to please while passing under the radar, ironically enough.

 

And it left Jayce internally speechless that the one and only person to catch onto it in almost a decade had been him. 

 

Jayce rejected any lingering belief that Viktor didn't care. He saw Jayce in ways he had longed to be seen and never had before.

 

Not since… Well, him.

 

Viktor didn't just spark his essence to life. 

 

He set the whole thing alight.

 

Shit. Was Jayce making it about himself again?

 

This merry-go-round was profoundly dizzying. 

 

Jayce spent the rest of his weekend thinking about how to approach Viktor in a way that wasn't directly about himself. 

 

Which seemed contradictory. 

 

But he couldn't do nothing. Not when Viktor was finally within reach. 

 

Not when there was a chance to have him back. To work with him again, to set the record straight.

 

To presence his brilliance in action.

 

To intertwine himself in it.

 

He could be respectful, while being bold. He could make a clear stance, while still listen. 

 

Jayce would not be going down without a fight. Least of all after tonight.

 

And if that meant it would all go down in flames, than he'd burn with it.

 

Because the alternative consisted of banishing his thoughts of Viktor into the confines of that empty void, again.

 

And the notion alone felt like its own sort of death.

///

After doing some surface cleaning on Sunday, Viktor immersed himself in his laptop, stationed on the living room table. 

 

His apartment was small, but he didn't need much. As long as he had the essentials and proper accessibility, he was content. 

 

But those damn blueprints had been rudely eyeing him from the corner of the table since yesterday, wrapped in stillness and drenched in a sickening magnetism.

 

Viktor's titanium resolve was dwindling, which was causing him to break out in cold sweats. 

 

It wasn't just about the contents of what lay inside, and the promise they carried of a new venture Viktor could not surgically excise from his poisoned mind.

 

But about everything.

 

With each unnerving interaction, Viktor was further dragged into a new reality he hadn't agreed to enter, yet felt idiotically drawn to explore. 

 

The reason for it eluded him.

 

Still, both those things combined unsettled him– to put it lightly.

 

Which was a feeling Viktor was not used to having to accommodate. In fact, it was so incongruent with the person Viktor considered himself to be that he found himself floating in and out of his body throughout the morning. 

 

He would get momentarily distracted, glance back at his watch, and realize twenty minutes had gone by when it'd felt like a mere thirty seconds.

 

The topic would persistently slither into his mind, taking the lead of his tattered focus.

 

That wretched man. 

 

That wretched proposal.

 

Viktor couldn't think of anything else. 

 

If he were to be truthful, Viktor suspected he could do it. Maybe. Possibly. 

 

Most likely.

 

He'd considered entertaining the idea several times before, but his spirit never seemed to be in alignment. Conceiving the sheer mountain of effort behind that kind of project alone was enough to dissuade him from truly contemplating it beyond the realm of fantasy.

 

In addition, Viktor had objectively little clue of the mechanics and other intricacies involved in the construction of an operational body. It was yet another major reason for his past disinterest. 

 

Most staggering, Viktor had lacked that charging inner spark, the one that carried him forward regardless of the infinitude of times he failed. 

 

Because he would. Fail. 

 

It was part of the job. 

 

And now, two of those major issues had unexpectedly clicked into place.

 

Jayce could construct the body– of that, Viktor had absolutely no hesitation. He would create an art piece beyond anything Viktor could even attempt to conceptualise. 

 

And if he were to be candid…

 

If he was truly considering pursuing this idea at some point in his life, wouldn't he want to make it the best he possibly could? 

 

It was deeply exasperating that the answer to that question was yes, and even more so because it now included Jayce Talis. 

 

As for that spark…

 

Viktor dropped his head into his palms.

 

Fuck.

 

Perhaps he should have a conversation with Jayce. 

 

Arg.

 

What a nightmare. 

 

On one hand, change the evolution of scientific progress and technological discovery as they'd come to know it. 

 

On the other hand, putting up with Talis. Tolerating working together.

 

Both tipped the scale, the weight distribution almost perfectly balanced. 

 

But not quite. 

 

Worst of all, Viktor did not know how long he had left. Every year that trickled by, Viktor had the quiet expectation that it might be his last. That it would finally be the one where his health would take a drastic plummet. 

 

After all, he wasn't cured. It was but a matter of time. 

 

Considering he was still surfing the peak of that wellness wave, would this not be the perfect time to take on such a project? Before it was too late and the opportunity passed him by, untouched? 

 

Viktor was no longer worried about not leaving anything behind, about his footprint in the sand. The print was there. 

 

But it was currently insignificant, to his taste. Nothing but scattered figments of his ambition.

 

And that bothered him more than he would care to admit. 

 

Viktor yearned to snap reality in half. He longed to leave a before and after. 

 

And the blueprints from hell were flirting with those clandestine desires, like a wisp curling inside his brain and seducing him to take another peek. 

 

Viktor was glaring at them when three heavy thuds echoed on his front door. 

 

He jumped out of his skin.

 

When he rose from his seat and went to open the door, a blur of a giant breezed past him and into his home.

 

"Okay, so I've been thinking.” The man dropped the cardboard box beside the couch, straightened, and smiled. “Hi. I have a bunch of theories to tell you.”

 

Jayce was taking off his jacket in his living room, instantly making himself at home, while Viktor was still frozen in the doorway.

 

Had he accidentally summoned him with his looping thoughts?

 

Jayce shifted in his feet, eyes darting over Viktor’s entire frame. Up and down, up again.

 

“Would you like to hear them?"

 

Viktor stared at Jayce, profoundly dumbfounded, with a mix of feelings pinballing all over his chest.

 

Shock. Insult. Confusion, confusion, confusion. Light satisfaction.

 

And a fresh surge of those horrid cold sweats, dampening his temples all over again.

 

Viktor gripped the handle of his cane in his clammy hand.

 

How could he feel endearingly seen as much as he felt wholeheartedly invisible?

 

"We're doing unexpected drop-ins now?" He asked, trying to hide the slight strain coiling within.

 

Jayce blinked. "Oh. Sorry." He lifted his hand to scratch the back of his neck. "I was going to bring your stuff to my car, then started walking and... found myself here." He pointed to the box as a form of clarification.

 

Viktor’s jaw slackened.

 

"You walked?"

 

"It's nothing. Should I leave?"

 

Viktor scrutinised the intruder, the silence between them pulling taut.

 

His presence felt deeply invasive. 

 

And yet, for some unfathomable reason, Viktor carefully asked, "What kind of theories?"

 

Jayce's lips twitched. He wiggled his brows. "Come find out."

 

Viktor quietly confirmed in the confines of his mind that the narcotic must indeed be proximity-induced because he sighed, enticed by the few words that had come out of Jayce’s mouth, and shut the door behind him.

 

Jayce smiled, but after a second, it faltered. 

 

“Um. They're of the personal kind. About us. I want to make sure you give me the go-ahead.” 

 

Viktor settled against his sturdy couch. 

 

“And why on earth are you storming into my apartment to tell me theories on a topic I’ve expressed clear rejection about?” 

 

“Because I want to work with you,” he stated resolutely. “And I know, deep down, under that mountain of resentment, you do, too.” 

 

Jayce waited for Viktor to respond, but he was met with nothing but tense silence. 

 

“And for that to happen,–” he continued, “–for us to build this thing– we need to start with some honesty.” 

 

Viktor arched his brow. “Quite arrogant of you to assume I'd feel the same way.” 

 

His lips stretched. “You didn't have to tell me, Viktor. I saw it. I felt it.” He tilted his chin downward. “Am I wrong?” 

 

When Viktor kept his tongue unmoving inside his mouth, that smile turned self-indulgent, almost screaming with an I thought so.

 

Still, Jayce kept his composure and returned to a serious tone.

 

“But I am not here to ambush you. I am not here to pressure you. I am here because I–” Jayce sighed. “If you ask me to leave, I will not think twice. But I thought we could maybe start with something small, instead. No talk of the past, only of the present. You can see how you feel. And that will help you decide whether or not you want to change the world.” 

 

I want to see you create the impossible. 

 

There was something magical behind those words, because Viktor felt the high of Jayce's presence rise all the way up in his neurons. 

 

It was intoxicating.

 

Viktor hadn't been driven in his work for years. Yes, he’d done some recognisable research. Yes, he was well off. 

 

But it wasn't… all-consuming. As it had once been. 

 

And that deserted spark was presently lurking beneath his skin, urging him forward. 

 

Goddammit.

 

For once, Viktor was being presented with a challenge. A real challenge. 

 

Creating consciousness.

 

And, for once, it didn’t seem like an impossible concept.

 

For once, Viktor was actually enticed to breathe life into it.

 

There was just one enormous obstacle in the way. 

 

But this conceited oaf was also the one responsible for that spark to resurrect from the ashes of a decimated coffin.

 

Was putting up with Jayce really that big a price to pay for a legacy that would stretch to eternity? 

 

Isn't this what Viktor had been born to do? 

 

“You stand by what you recorded on my phone on Friday?” Viktor inquired with caution.

 

Jayce’s eyes widened, almost in disbelief that Viktor hadn’t insisted he vanish from his sight. 

 

“Yes,” he breathed. “A thousand times, yes.” 

 

Viktor hummed, even though he’d–dauntingly–already made up his mind. 

 

He didn't trust Jayce. He didn't want to work with him, let alone go in-depth about certain topics with him.

 

But the man was goddamn fucking brilliant. 

 

And if anyone was going to aid Viktor in changing the course of history, it would be the author behind those blueprints. Viktor could feel that, too. 

 

Viktor observed Jayce through slitted eyes.

 

“And you'll stop if I say so?” 

 

A quick nod. “Just say the word.” 

 

Viktor considered for a moment. “Mr. Stiff.” 

 

Jayce’s brows shot to his hairline. 

 

“Mr. Stiff?” He asked in a high-pitched tone filled with mirth. 

 

It was blatantly obvious that there was laughter wanting to erupt out of Jayce, but he kept it leashed.

 

“That’ll be the word. If you don't stop talking after I say it, we’re done. And this is just a trial, I will most probably change my mind in a few minutes.” 

 

His smile was broad, and the cognizance that washed over Viktor upon staring at it tightened his chest.

 

“Fair enough.” 

 

Viktor lifted a hand and made an inviting gesture. It prompted Jayce to start pacing.

 

“Okay, so, you’ve mentioned that you carry something everywhere you go, which I assume is your anger. Yet, I've only seen you raise your voice once. That day at my place, after the drug night.”

 

Ah, lord, grant me patience.

 

Jayce turned, his body language active alongside his speech. "Ergo, my first theory is: you do not actually express your anger."

 

Viktor rolled his eyes.

 

Okay, so Jayce was picking up from where they’d left off when Viktor had stayed in his apartment. 

 

Clearly, sharing each other's projects had brought an unfortunate, undisputedly entitled, invitation to an abhorrent topic.

 

But Viktor didn't have the strength to claw at it anymore.

 

"I'd say I've been quite vocal about my anger."

 

"Ah." Jayce raised a finger with a knowing smile. "Herein lies the problem. Being vocal about your anger is not the same as expressing your anger. I think you keep it bottled up, which means that it never goes away."

 

What was this man doing in his apartment? 

 

A knowing exhaustion crept forward, bleeding into each of his limbs and overtaking Viktor's entire being.

 

"So what, scream? Throw things around?" He asked tiredly.

 

"Maybe punch me?"

 

Viktor gaped at him. "What did you just say?"

 

"You know– punch me."

 

There was a tense pause.

 

"I am not going to punch you."

 

"Why not?"

 

“It's absolute lunacy.”

 

“Not if I invite it.”

 

“You're proving my point.”

 

“Come on. Two punches? I can take 'em.” 

 

Viktor offered his trademark deadpan expression.

 

"I'm going to say that perhaps there's a basis of truth to the theory, but not the methodology. Then again, why are we talking about this?” 

 

“Because,” Jayce accentuated. “It’s eating you from the inside out.” 

 

“Says who?” 

 

“Anyone with minimal sight.” 

 

Viktor's muscles were beginning to cramp, and his heart was picking up speed. 

 

“I don't see how that’s any of your business.” 

 

Jayce shrugged and then continued to pace. Viktor's focus trailed after him, following every step.

 

"Right, well, my second theory is that you're scared I won't care about the right things, so you avoid talking about it to keep from proving yourself right."

 

Viktor narrowed his eyes, that newly bloomed curiosity slipping through the cracks of his crumbling backbone. "Elaborate."

 

"Every time I've tried to broach the subject, you've cut me off. Logically, I'm assuming it's because you're convinced of how that conversation ends. All I'm saying is, what if you're wrong? You haven't let me try."

 

Viktor was beginning to feel nauseous.

 

"Have you considered in that thick head of yours that it might be because I know it will dig into wounds I'd rather leave untouched?"

 

Jayce stopped his back and forth. He shifted to face Viktor, green eyes softening as they landed on him.

 

"Maybe at first," Jayce gently conceded. "But it will hurt less once you accept that… that I care about your perspective, Viktor. No matter how much contempt you might have for me, I am here for you. You deserve to voice every single thing that weighs on your soul and know that you will be heard, without judgment.” 

 

Jayce took a step closer. “I accept that two versions of the truth can coexist. I'm willing to put mine aside to make room for yours, which is equally as important. If not more so."

 

Viktor stared. 

 

And stared. 

 

Then, he stared some more.

 

Does he actually mean that? 

 

His chest was aching like never before. His breathing was turning into labor, and Viktor was flashed with a memory of those days when he'd been terminal.

 

I'm grateful for you too, V.

 

Suffocating. Jayce curling beside him on his hospital bed. Devastation. Jayce carrying him in his arms. Bone-deep fatigue. Jayce washing his hair. Seeing his scar for the first time. Jayce melting to the floor as the percentage of their work kept increasing. Jayce promising to look after their invention. Jayce breaking that promise.

 

Viktor couldn't make sense of what was real and what wasn't. 

 

He massaged his temples, attempting to melt the pounding in his head.

 

"I can't keep fighting you over this." He meant to sound furious, but his tone cracked over the weight of his crushing defeat. 

 

“Stop fighting, then,” Jayce said softly. “I'm here. I'm listening.” 

 

His seeming kindness was deeply disorienting. 

 

Viktor rubbed his eyes hard. “Why do you keep doing this?”

 

When the silence stretched and he looked up, the hues in Jayce's eyes had mellowed, radiating their warmth straight into Viktor's very soul. 

 

A warmth he'd excruciatingly missed.

 

A warmth he'd promised himself never to allow back in.

 

"Because it's you," Jayce rasped.

 

And just like that, the indisposition he'd been setting aside all morning surged to the surface, brutal and ungovernable. 

 

Viktor felt something violent desperately want to erupt.

 

"Stiff, Stiff, Mr.–” Viktor hiccuped a sharp inhale. “Get out.” 

 

Jayce was startled by the harshness behind his tone.

 

Viktor got to his feet and strode to the door, yanking it open. "Get out."

 

Jayce seemed hesitant, concern painted in his gaze. "Viktor–"

 

His heart was hammering, and all of a sudden, he felt a type of urgency that blinded him completely. 

 

"Get out, get out, get out." One loud word snapped after the other, almost pleadingly. Viktor wildly pulled at Jayce's shirt and shoved him toward the exit.

 

Jayce let himself be guided backward across the threshold, palms facing outward in surrender. Viktor slammed the door after him. 

 

The second it shut, he began to hyperventilate.

 

He separated himself from the door so the sounds wouldn't travel down the hallway. 

 

In a daze, he found the wall. Viktor leaned his weight on it, the other hand placed on his chest, feeling it frantically rise and fall.

 

He slid to the floor, cane clacking beside him, vision turning fuzzy and watered and distorted. 

 

Viktor had a vague memory of pulling his legs to his chest and circling his knees.

 

The agony was so supreme he felt it in every pore of his body. Yet, the intensity of it somehow simultaneously numbed him.

 

Something was touching him.

 

Viktor blinked as a shape came into focus, a noise mumbling in the background.

 

All at once, the sound of his breaths unmuted, and he found them to be needlessly violent.

 

"You're okay," the voice said. "You're okay, Viktor. I know it feels like you're dying, but I promise you, you're not."

 

He was not dying. He was not dying. 

 

He was okay.

 

Viktor repeated the words in his mind like a prayer.

 

He recognised that voice. He opened and closed his lids furiously, trying to get his vision to focus on that face before him. He desperately wanted to see it.

 

"My hand is on your shoulder, can you feel it?"

 

Panicked hazel eyes came into view. Beautiful, bronze skin. A face that, in this moment that lived in the past, felt like the most soothing of salves. 

 

Thumbs were wiping Viktor’s cheeks.

 

He didn't know he was crying.

 

He didn't feel like he was crying.

 

But the dampness coating the gesture was damning evidence of the contrary.

 

Viktor hated the touch. 

 

Something inside him wanted to break over it as his chest caved in.

 

“I'm here, I’m here," he whispered tenderly.

 

Jayce was kneeling in front of him. They were in his apartment in Zaun.

 

Jayce was here.

 

Jayce.

 

Led by instinct, Viktor scoured that mix of overlapping greens and ambers. 

 

“I. Can't. Breathe,” he panted with effort. 

 

“I know, it'll pass– you'll see." Jayce swiftly examined their surroundings. "How about you tell me five things you see around you, in the meantime.” 

 

The ask caused his breathing to fasten, each one rasping his throat with a ferocity that threatened with a foreseeable grand finale.

 

Do I look like I'm in a position to describe anything to you, at the moment? 

 

Those digits kept caressing his cheekbones, swiping any droplets away from Viktor's skin. 

 

It was horrendous. It was anchoring. It was deeply confusing.

 

You look like Jayce but you're not him. You're not him, you're not him.

 

“Trust me,” he encouraged with excruciating softness. 

 

Viktor hated those words, hated them, hated them.

 

His follow-through was not a confirmation of that request, but a desperate attempt to leave his body. 

 

“I. See. Beige. Couch.” 

 

“Yes, yes, good. What else?” 

 

“Glass. Coffee. Table.” 

 

“Mhm.” 

 

“TV.” 

 

“You're doing great.” 

 

Viktor sent him a glare amidst his chaotic breathing.

 

Jayce blinked before he snickered to himself. 

 

“There, I see you.” He kept his faint smile. ”Keep going.” 

 

His hands retracted from cupping Viktor’s face as he sank into the balls of his feet. Talis let his palms rest over Viktor's folded knees, instead. 

 

The reduced contact was profoundly alleviating. He wanted to slap those ginormous hands away, and yet Viktor was paralysed in place.

 

“Noodle. Cup. On the table.” 

 

“Of course. It would be blasphemous if there wasn't.” 

 

Viktor snapped his judgmental eyes back to Jayce. 

 

“Big. Insufferable. Man.” 

 

His smile broadened. “At your service.” Another flicker of concern flashed behind Jayce's expression. “Okay, now four things you can touch. Go.” 

 

Viktor stared at the ceiling, in the hopes of conveying the sentiment that came hand in hand with the rolling of eyes. 

 

“Hard floor.” 

 

Jayce was nodding. Viktor searched around him. His fingers crawled until they wrapped around the cool wooden texture of his aid.

 

“Cane.”

 

His powerful breaths were considerably relenting. Viktor made an effort to focus on what he could feel around him, but there wasn’t much to go on. 

 

His back was resting against something.

 

Oh!

 

“Wall.” 

 

“Yes. One more.” 

 

Viktor’s eyes flickered to his burning knees, then back up to find green awaiting him. 

 

Jayce took another second to follow Viktor's meaning, and when his eyes glanced down, he snapped his hands away as if he'd been scalded, right back.

 

Slowly, he proceeded to place them over his own lap, instead. Swallowed.

 

Viktor begged that reliable part of himself to take over, to rise to his defense once more.

 

But that inner request had no real force behind it. No response, either.

 

Viktor should be furious. But... he wasn't. 

 

And he didn't understand why. 

 

But he was too tired to currently dissect it.

 

“How are you feeling? Should we keep going?” Jayce asked quietly.

 

Viktor shook his head. He was still inhaling through his mouth, but the ruthlessness of the act had dimmed considerably. 

 

'I sense a cough incoming,' Viktor shakily signed. 'I should stop talking.'

 

Jayce stared at his hands, and when his eyes returned, there was a new intensity behind them. 

 

“That’s fine,” he murmured. “How about we get off the floor?” 

 

Viktor nodded. 

 

As Jayce made a move to stand, he winced. 

 

Viktor stilled. Waited for Jayce's focus to return to him. Once it did, he lifted a brow. 

 

Jayce didn't catch on. “Should I help you up?” He asked carefully from above. 

 

Viktor tucked away the information for a later time and shook his head.

 

Leaning his torso over the armrest of his couch, alongside a little push from his cane, he was back on his feet. 

 

And the moment he dropped into the sofa, something must have rasped in the movement, because the coughing ensued. 

 

He coughed into the nook of his elbow, coughed and coughed. Amidst his attack, he breathed in desperately, but besides some faintness, his consciousness was intact. 

 

At some point, Jayce brought him a steaming mug. 

 

“Tea,” he clarified, cheeks flushed. “Milk and honey. It's good for the throat.” 

 

The exhaustion crept in unannounced. It abducted Viktor's body and spirit. 

 

Unheralded, his lids drooped. Annoyed, Viktor snapped them open. 

 

Eyes darted toward Jayce, who was standing with his arms crossed, still quietly observing. 

 

Which was disconcerting.

 

They stared at each other for a lingering beat before Viktor brushed the outstretched tips of his fingers over his chin.

 

“Don't thank me,” Jayce interrupted before he could finish signing, a new dejection to his demeanor. “It was my fault, I'm sorry.” 

 

He lowered his hand slowly.

 

Viktor had no clue how to analyse that sentence with the fatigue pressing down on his brain. So he did roll his eyes, this time.

 

'As per usual,' he replied. 

 

The corner of Jayce's lip tugged upward. 

 

Then the silence turned awkward. 

 

“Should I leave you be? Maybe you should get some sleep.” 

 

Viktor affirmed with his head. 

 

'I'll see you tomorrow.'

 

Jayce offered a curt nod. “Okay. Rest.”

 

Before he left, Jayce approached the living room table. He reached for a pen and wrote something down. When he returned, he placed the blueprints on the coffee table. 

 

“I've, uh– I've taken the liberty of writing down my phone number in the back. In case you need anything.” His eyes were pinned to the paper. “See you soon.” 

 

And with that, he turned on his heel and quietly walked out of Viktor's apartment. 

///

 

No wonder Viktor did not want to talk about it.

 

There was far more hemorrhage than Jayce had previously considered. He’d uttered but two sentences and that had cracked open a world of pain.

 

How was he going to stop that bleeding? How was he ever to understand it?

 

There had to be another way about it. One that didn't involve inadvertently tearing Viktor in half after each attempt.

 

Jayce's heart was aching.

 

See you tomorrow. 

 

Did that mean Viktor was coming back to the lab? During human hours?

 

Jayce didn't dare lean on it.

 

But he secretly hoped that’d be the case. 

 

He didn’t want to stop until that wound was wholly sealed. 

 

If Viktor would allow it, of course.

Notes:

TW: someone inebriated (although hidden in script), anxiety attack

///

HEYYYY

Congratulations to all of you, you have endured 200k without a single kiss still HAHA I swear I am rooting for them, but they wont have it. I have so many explicit scenes between these two in my drafts, pouting at me in wait D: WERE ON OUR WAY!

WE'RE BACK TO THE LAAAAAB

some tension in the air yall

some descriptions might be repetitive but i cannot think of another way to say GAZE or SMILE so, take it x)

j immediately preparing a chair for vs comfort D:

"I want to see you create the impossible" if vs panties are not on the floor, what are you doing man?

j is down baaaaaad yall, while v is still in nowhere land x)

men will really do anything but talk to each other hahah "JUST PUNCH ME MAN, THEN WERE EVEN"
"but... youve deeply traumatised me?"
"OKAY FINE, TWO PUNCHES, THEEEN WERE EVEN"

not j reminding v of meni D:

them coming up with an emotional safeword, only for viktor to forget to use it until its too late D:

 

I hope you have an amazing (however long until we see each other). Take care!!

As always, any feedback and/or overall opinion is not only welcome, but deeply motivating and appreciated <3 truly

tooodalooooo!

Chapter 30: You were right.

Notes:

hello beautiful monarchs! i hope everyone is feeling okay :)

last elevator chapter (I hope)

ALSOOOOOOOOOOOO an incredible human in the comments named ✨️brainy✨️ created a spotify playlist inspired by these two, if anyone wants to give it a listen :') thank you so much brainy, I had a whole existential crisis while listening to it and enjoyed every second

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/44LWWRHaDRHskSXHANFVwF?si=149ac50532d24f54

happy jayvik!

What in the seven hells was that?! 

 

Viktor fluttered his lids at his ceiling, attempting to melt the sleep from his eyes as a flood of recollections slashed through his consciousness, one after the other, without a chance of proper alignment.

 

The mental assault rendered him petrified in bed. 

 

Viktor couldn't begin to explain what had happened to him yesterday. Clearly, Jayce was the source of his trigger, as he so often was, but beyond that– there were no clear answers. 

 

Everything from that time is locked in a vault and if I open it, I suspect it will swallow me whole.

 

Viktor did not need further proof to corroborate that understanding he'd shared with Jayce when he'd been imprisoned in his apartment.

 

All Jayce had done was scratch outside Viktor's comfort zone for his quiet resolve to disintegrate into unrecognisable pieces, slipping between the gaps of his desperate grasp. 

 

He'd crumbled. Pathetically so. 

 

And yet… 

 

The moment Viktor had blinked and discerned that it was Jayce before him, he'd felt… alleviation. Begrudged, sure. Alert? Of course. 

 

But that unthinkable kernel had been true, nonetheless.

 

As if some sunken part of himself had known that perceiving that excruciatingly familiar face staring back, especially during a moment of intimate distress, was an immediate promise of providence. 

 

Viktor detested that somewhere in his subconscious, recognising those tones of amber and green pinned on him, intertwining in a dance of transparent emotion, directly signified that everything would turn out okay.

 

Which was fucking ironic, wasn't it? 

 

Viktor flinched when he remembered the graze of those fingers against his cheek, or the vague memory of his hands cupping his jaw, keeping Viktor's focus on him.

 

Nausea assailed Viktor at the undeniable notion that it had, somehow, helped.

 

Which only deepened his self-hatred.

 

How dare Jayce be a source of comfort? How dare he call upon the sides of Viktor he couldn't tame? How dare he remind Viktor of a forlorn sense of shelter, and obfuscate who Jayce truly was in the process?

 

Beyond that, the sheer audacity to assume Viktor had been about to thank him for his staying, and not as a mere reflex for bringing him tea, boiled his blood even further. 

 

Why would Viktor be thankful for something he'd caused?  

 

It's my fault. 

 

Yeah, no shit. 

 

Viktor ignored the fact that he had had every opportunity to say no, or to voice the agreed upon safeword. 

 

Ignored that he’d been enticed by the words coming out of Jayce’s mouth, or how deeply they’d resonated for the briefest of moments. Before and during.

 

Viktor didn't care. 

 

It was still Jayce to blame and he was gripping that certainty with teeth, claws and anything else he could think of. 

 

He's dangerous, he's dangerous, he's dangerous, a panicked inner-voice reminded.

 

Talis was a patch of quicksand that slowly engulfed its victim whole, seemingly harmless at first, but utterly deadly once both feet were submerged. 

 

Viktor would like to think that, at least, one of his feet remained in safe terrain. He could still crawl his way out of this self-annihilation, focus on his own project and move forward– as every nerve ending on his body was currently begging him to. 

 

Why give in to progress if that choice would lead to his demise before he even got to enjoy the final product? 

 

And yet, those treacherous whispers would not relent.

 

Consequently, Viktor realized he would have to babysit himself far more diligently than he'd originally thought. 

 

Which was a vastly humiliating affair, of its own accord.

///

After a single attempt, Jayce had learned that he could not approach the situation at hand through mindless fire.

 

Because even though he was indifferent about burning himself to a crisp in the process, considering flames were far easier to cope with than that consuming numbness…

 

He did care about dragging Viktor down with him. 

 

Jayce cared to avoid it, at all costs. 

 

So– no more torches raised in unplanned invasions. No more blindly driven, conjectured hypotheses shared without obvious invitation. 

 

After witnessing what Jayce had on Sunday, it was almost like that relentless part of himself had whisked out of existence. 

 

Nothing would be worth causing Viktor to feel that way again.

 

Not answers, not common projects, not friendship. Nothing.

 

The mere memory of tentatively opening that door again only to find Viktor curled up on the floor, with a crushingly empty expression, tears flowing out of his eyes and dripping down his jaw, chest rising and falling maniacally…  

 

Every single thought had evaporated in Jayce's mind. Almost as if an abandoned part of himself had swiftly slid into his skin and taken over. 

 

He was dumbfounded by the fact that his first, primal urge had been to scoop Viktor up into his arms and lower himself onto the couch. Place him on his lap. Pet his hair and quietly rock him back and forth, the way his ma had done for Jayce so many-a time. 

 

Even if he didn't really know Viktor anymore. 

 

Even if he hated Jayce. 

 

Even if Jayce, himself, had conflicting feelings about the whole ordeal. 

 

He would have let Viktor insult him if it meant keeping him tucked inside Jayce’s embrace until the episode passed. 

 

That suspended affection, frozen in a distant moment in time, roaring to the surface without a second glance. 

 

Jayce wondered what his hair would have smelled like. 

 

Which was a profoundly confusing urge to have had to tamper down. 

 

Thank God for those damned YouTube videos he had put himself through during his own attacks throughout the years. They hadn't been much help to him personally, but it seemed those tools came in handy when applied to another person. 

 

Unfortunately, there was one aspect to all of this that complicated things rather exponentially. 

 

Jayce could not successfully banish the forementioned project out of his head. 

 

Incessant questions kept bubbling to the surface, and despite his attempts to refocus on his personal proposal, he could no longer analyse it with the previous mindset. 

 

The entire concept now longed to have an entirely different objective.

 

Endless streams of creativity kept sprouting inside Jayce, steadily inundating his cranium.

 

In an attempt to keep his mind from being overrun, he took to pouring them out of himself, hoping they would release that pressure and quit harassing his focus. Mindlessly, he sketched half-assed anatomic parts that had a persistent desire to come to life on post-its, as much as he wrote down any questions that had the nasty tendency to run on a loop until succinctly answered.

 

Except once one was out, another quickly replaced it. 

 

Jayce wasn't entirely sure what to do with any of it, besides the solid understanding to keep Viktor out of his impulsive prompts. 

 

So he stashed the ever-growing yellow squared papers in his drawer.

 

When Viktor finally walked into the lab on Monday afternoon, Jayce instantly perked up to try to discern his demeanor.

 

He murmured, “Good morning.”

 

Viktor did not reply. Did not glance in his direction. He did not acknowledge Jayce in any way– merely slunk to his nook and vanished from sight.

 

It stung far more than Jayce could have anticipated.

 

Jayce's idiotic, tenacious resolve had officially caused them to go back to square one. 

 

But at least Viktor was not hiding within the folds of his night shifts. And, regardless of anything else, Jayce counted that as a win. 

 

Yet that nonsensical column was keeping him from seeing Viktor, from checking on him. From having an excuse to have the most minimal interaction. 

 

It severed them into two different worlds entirely.

 

Whenever commotion interrupted his train of thought, Jayce distractedly opened the tiny calendar at the end of his notebook. Counted. Jotted down the numbers. 

 

Jayce couldn't be the only one obsessively thinking about all of this, could he? 

 

If you want to avoid repeating history, you need to come up with a new approach. You cannot be surprised when the same just breeds more of the same.

 

Isn't that what Mel had told him? What could that possibly entail? 

 

Jayce was running out of ideas. 

 

Viktor had stubbornly drawn a line in the sand with his silent punishment. 

 

Maybe he found comfort in certainties he could make sense of? That Jayce was selfish, that he was not to be relied on?

 

Maybe Viktor didn't enjoy having those certainties rattled? 

 

Couldn't Jayce relate to that, as well? Couldn't everyone? 

 

Jayce knew he was leaning on baseless deductions again. But his desperation to understand wouldn’t allow him to let any of it go.

 

And he was in too deep at this point. 

 

So, if he presumed that theory to be correct, his attempts to haul Viktor out of such certainties could be part of the problem. 

 

Jayce had failed to let Viktor come to him. He kept breaking his promises to lead with self-absorbed intuition. 

 

It seemed Mel was right in more ways than one.

 

Clearly, Jayce had never been an expert at doing nothing.

 

But Viktor's certainties were faulty and lacking. It was its own struggle to pretend that that wasn’t the case. To let them exist out in the open when Jayce could easily provide proof of their fallacy.

 

Yet, Viktor refused to investigate outside his personal beliefs. 

 

Hm.

 

Was there a way to create a third world, without tearing the existing ones? A third world that Viktor could be invited to, instead of dragged into? One he could peruse at his leisure? 

 

Jayce glanced to his left, and noticed that the credenza that used to exist beneath the second large window of the lab before the explosion had been replaced with a brand new desk, parallel to his own. 

 

It was cluttered with materials that hadn’t yet found a new home.

 

It wasn't invasive– it was neutral. Right?

 

He could clean it up. 

 

During his lunch break, Jayce decided to take a stroll towards the photo store fifteen minutes away from the Academy, where he purchased an oak, rustic picture frame. 

 

When he returned, he stopped by the canteen to grab a napkin, scribbled on it, and set it inside the frame. 

 

Then, Jayce returned to the lab.

 

Two hours later, Viktor left the room to either use the facilities or grab some food of his own. Hallelujah.  

 

Jayce took advantage of the break to clear that abandoned desk, setting aside empty flasks and stashes of unimportant documents.

 

Then, he brought the hoarded post-its and glued them on the clean surface, one after the other. To finish, Jayce positioned the frame on the corner, turned to face the center of the table.

 

After one final check, Jayce sighed and quietly retreated to his work station anew. 

///

The sun was setting across the far glass pane directly opposite to Viktor's nook when Jayce peeked around the stone column. 

 

At the unexpected peep, every muscle in Viktor’s body went rigid. Still, he kept his eyes trained on the monitor as he continued to make himself appear inaccessible.

 

“Hi,” Jayce said softly, half of his body reticently emerging from the stone. “Do you have a second?” 

 

Viktor pressed his teeth together, feeling the immediate tick in his masticulatory muscle.

 

“I'm busy,” he gritted out. 

 

Viktor had forcedly immersed himself into his work and completely forgotten that there was an outside world beyond the program he was focusing on.

 

Forgotten his personalised predator was inhabiting the same room as him. 

 

“I'll be brief and let you be.” 

 

Viktor let out a sharp breath. 

 

There Talis went, yet again, on that enervating merry-go-round.

 

But Viktor did not want to have another fight, did not want to offer a new explanation, did not want to feed the unyielding fire with gasoline. 

 

He wanted his outsides to match with his insides. Viktor craved to be fully invisible. 

 

Embracing that fact was far less dissonant than whatever dynamic they'd been stumbling into.

 

After a prolonged silence, Viktor curtly gestured with his hand, eager to be done with it and return to his work.

 

Jayce regarded him, the weight of his attention seepening into Viktor's skin and causing his face to unbearably itch. Jayce’s lips pressed into each other, perhaps waiting for Viktor to drift his gaze his way. 

 

He did not. 

 

Thus, after a moment, Jayce plowed through what he so incessantly needed to say. 

 

“You were right.”

 

There was a heavy quiet after his resolute tone. 

 

From Viktor's peripheral vision, he studied how Jayce's eyes had dropped to the floor, whilst one of his hands was kept against the pillar. 

 

“I don't see you,” he admitted solemnly. “I haven't seen you .” 

 

Viktor kept his neutral expression as his fingers tripped over his keyboard. 

 

“I'm sorry for that. For assuming out of some misguided notion. Just as I am sorry for Sunday.” 

 

Viktor's heart picked up speed, but he kept his frigid stance as he returned to his clacking.

 

It might have seemed casual, but Viktor knew it was, in fact, panicked.

 

What is going on with me?! He demanded of himself.

 

Jayce, obtuse as he was, shifted uncomfortably at the continued quietude. 

 

“I, uh–” Jayce rubbed the back of his neck. “I'll be leaving some ideas over on that desk.” He vaguely gestured his thumb over his shoulder. “Not because I expect you to be interested, or even take a look. I just…” His lips pursed as he stood there awkwardly. “If you're ever curious, you're, um… you're welcome to them.” 

 

He gave a small tap on the column beside him once concluded, and finally turned to leave. 

 

Contrasting with his initial move, he paused.

 

“I'd like to, for what it's worth.” He tilted his head to find Viktor's gaze swiftly analysing his profile before it fled back to his screen. 

 

The air thickened and Viktor found refuge in those dry sounds, piercing the silence with every tap.

 

“See you,” Jayce spelled out, his voice coming out with a soft murmur. “I really would.” 

 

Viktor left his mind completely blank.

 

Jayce affirmed to himself faintly, acknowledging the voiceless response. “I’m around– if you ever want to talk. Ask questions. I'll tell you anything you'd like to know.” Viktor sensed those eyes flickering over his complexion. “Or if you want to be heard– for a change. I'll do my best to actually listen.” 

 

A snort shot out of Viktor.

 

There was a vague smile in Jayce's voice when he spoke next, “I know, I know. Bottom line is– you can come to me… Anytime.” 

 

Viktor swallowed the question itching in his throat.

 

So many retorts were popping into his brain , especially considering the irony of promising retreated silence through an unending ramble. 

 

But he pulverised them. Poking fun of Jayce was its own slippery slope. It seemed that instead of feeling offended, Jayce had an infectious tendency to chew on it before spewing it right back. 

 

Purposefully ignoring him passed along Viktor’s message just as efficiently, for Jayce nodded in final understanding before walking out. 

 

Viktor patiently waited to hear the lab door click shut in the distance before he sank into his chair with a heavy exhale, at last feeling relief wash over him. The pain on his lower back stretched up his spine, rightfully protesting, since that’s when he came to notice that he’d been unconsciously tense all day. 

 

I haven't seen you. I don't see you.

 

What was most infuriating is that that wasn't entirely true, either. 

 

Yes, in the big picture, Jayce didn't see shit. 

 

But there were moments dipped in quiet where Viktor felt himself bare before Jayce, even as he reinforced his rejection of them. 

 

Like when Jayce had bought Lola. When he had told Viktor how he'd felt his desire to make that unfathomable creation come to life. 

 

When they'd intensely stared at each other during the explosion with nothing but filterless incaution– Viktor had felt his soul rip out of his chest if only to reach for him, one last time. 

 

And yet, Jayce had absolutely no idea of the mental, physical and spiritual toll that past event had caused in Viktor’s existence. 

 

Jayce Talis had been the one person in Viktor’s entire, miserable life who he'd trusted, blindly . Viktor would have given himself on a platter, blindfolded, deaf, tied-up and battered, knowing that if it’d been Jayce to receive him, he would have found shelter, regardless. 

 

It was a kind of trust Viktor hadn't known existed, or even could exist. The one where one offers their most fragile pieces in the hopes that they will be uplifted, instead of further crushed. 

 

It was the main reason behind why Viktor had never even considered acknowledging whether he'd had any fragile pieces to begin with– he hadn't been fully aware of them until meeting Jayce. Until they nonconsensually poured out of him and into his friends awaiting palms.

 

And thinking back on it just made Viktor feel like an imbecile. 

 

Unquestionably, the strangest of combinations. 

 

Viktor continued to work in silence. 

 

An hour later, his eyes flickered to that table far opposite him. 

 

He lashed them back to his monitor. 

 

But just like he'd experienced that siren song at the gala, the melody had wafted over to the lab.

 

It was slithering inside his brain, coiling with forbidden temptation. Trying to captivate him with the promise of a challenge Viktor, himself, couldn't fully silence within. 

 

When he could bear the insidious enchantment no longer, Viktor shut off his device with a frustrated grunt. He stood far too quickly, considering the tiny stabs travelling up his leg. And even then, Viktor stubbornly stomped out of the lab and out of reach from the remnants of that infernal narcotic, poisedly awaiting him. 

 

When Viktor slept that night, he dreamt of nearing the desk. Dreadfully, it only deepened his exasperation, for the harder he tried to make sense of its contents, the blurrier they became. 

/// 

The week dripped past, and there was no interaction with Jayce. 

 

In fact, the only time Viktor perceived him was when he walked into the lab in the morning. 

 

And, of course, whenever Jayce would stride into his field of vision to add more Post-its onto the far-away desk. That happened several times throughout the day. 

 

He didn't look in Viktor’s direction. He didn't address him. He didn't seek communication or any form of interaction. 

 

Which was… strangely comforting. 

 

And simultaneously ruffling.

 

Jayce slid into his peripheral, leaned his knuckles on that table, re-organized some of the papers there–on top of adding new ones–and slid out just as efficiently. 

 

Every time Viktor caught a glimpse of a moving man, he clenched his jaw and only dared look up when Jayce was facing the window. Every time, Viktor got further innervated by the curiosity twitching inside him, despite how much effort he was dedicating to beat it to a pulp. 

 

It would not die. 

 

It had sunk its teeth into the prospect behind this idea and it would not release its tedious clench.

 

An impossible, far-away dream, now knocking at his door and waiting for an answer.

 

Furthermore, the anger was only worsened by the fact that Viktor sometimes managed to forget about Jayce's existence up until he would invade his field of vision. 

 

And worst of all, his work continuously whispered back with new possibilities, with a diligently abandoned–albeit covertly enticing–purpose.

 

Viktor felt it with every new line of code. It wanted to become something else.

 

So Viktor viciously glared at that broad back, casual in its persistence, until Jayce's body shifted to walk away. Only then did Viktor dip his glare back to his monitor. 

 

Shit.

/// 

If Jayce was being honest, he didn't need to visit the abandoned desk as often as he did. 

 

He could perfectly round up all of the Post-its of the day and place them at the early hours in the morning, before Viktor came in to work. 

 

But this was the only way he could catch a glimpse of his former friend. As if his body demanded he check whether he was still there. 

 

And it was the only way he’d found to passively keep Viktor from forgetting him.

 

Jayce was secretly terrified he would, despite his past conviction that Viktor was not entirely indifferent to him. 

 

Snip. Snap. Snip. Snap. Snip. Snap. 

 

Jayce’s mind switched opinions as often as he changed shirts. 

 

But if this is all he could have, the confirmation of a presence he’d dreamt of for years, merely at a distance…

 

Then, it had to be enough. 

 

Consequently, he allowed himself this insignificant, selfish act in an attempt to preserve his little, prevailing sanity.

 

Sometime during the week of their return to the Academy, the doors of the lab opened unexpectedly.

 

Jayce barely looked up from his work before he registered Jinx’s trademark skip-step, intruding in his personal space. Behind her, Jayce could make up Silco's silhouette, lazily approaching as if he were her personal shadow.

 

His anger surged to the surface in the span of a single, sharp inhale. His hands faintly shook and his shoulders stiffened.

 

She neared and joyfully hopped onto his desk, sending a plastic cup filled with pens scattering everywhere. Jayce jolted away, saving himself from the debris. 

 

“Looking good, old man.” 

 

“Hello, Jinx,” Jayce gritted as his nape tightened, a wave of heat crawling up his spine. 

 

“Mr. Talis,” nodded Silco as he made a turn right, clearly uninterested in making any type of conversation with Jayce.

 

“It’s Doctor,” he responded coldly. 

 

When Silco ignored his remark, Jayce moved to pick up the pens, his movements uncontrollably rash. 

 

Jinx cocked her head, observing with him undivided attention.

 

“You seem… edgy.” 

 

His glower snapped to her. 

 

“How should I be after you almost blew us to fucking hell?” He accused, his voice low enough for only the two of them to hear. 

 

Jinx grimaced, squirming in her seat as if sitting still for more than a single second would impose a form of self-torment. 

 

Her wandering eyes drifted toward the ceiling as she mouthed something unintelligible. 

 

“What?” Jayce seethed. 

 

She cleared her throat, and while skimming in her father's direction, she moved her lips again. 

 

“I can't follow if you look away, for fuck’s sake.” 

 

Jinx rolled her head back toward him, a flowing movement that only she seemed to dominate. “Gee, alright! Keep your panties out of a twist, will ya?” Jinx leaned in, pretending to study Jayce’s documents and flipping through them– despite them being upside down. “My dad says I can’t say shit ‘cause it’s ‘an admission of guilt’,” she fiercely mocked, using overemphasized air-quotes. “So,” Pointing her outstretched fingers towards her mouth in an exaggerated gesture, she mouthed, I'm sorry.  

 

Then, had the nerve to smile.

 

“There. Happy now?” 

 

Jayce’s shoulders were aching with the unanticipated tension of their encounter. 

 

“Not really,” he admitted with a tightened jaw. Far from it, actually. “What were you thinking?!”

 

Something deeper flashed through her blue eyes, a momentary sadness, before they hardened. 

 

“This place reeks of privilege. Thought I'd do Piltover a solid and make a tinsy, tiny hole they can finally crawl out of– just like the rest of us.” 

 

The sharpened vitriol in her voice was completely new and slashing. Jayce could almost taste the simmering rage of a life built on survival. 

 

He took a deep breath before his voice turned solemn, “I thought you wanted to study here?” 

 

“Yeah, well.” She plopped down on his desk, one leg swinging up and down, while another folded to prop against the edge of the surface. Then, her expression changed to one of sharpened attention. “Wait, can you hear that?” Her head was tilted to the side, her fingers cupping her ear in sudden interest. 

 

Jayce made an effort to perceive what she was referring to, but before he could ask, she continued, “That's the wind telling you to fuck off and mind your business.” 

 

And even though Jayce had mountains of fury, he couldn't help his eye roll. Or the twitch in his lips. 

 

“There's no wind here, we're indoors.” 

 

Jinx stared at him as if he were profoundly stupid. 

 

He gave her a small smile. “I, for one, would still want you to attend school here. I think you could accomplish incredible things.” 

 

She twirled her braid at her side as if it were a lasso, eyes pinned somewhere above. 

 

Jinx was lost in deep thought before she asked with a murmur, “Beyond making things go boom?” 

 

Jayce inched closer. “Far beyond making things go boom.” 

 

He flicked her nose for emphasis. 

 

Jinx was as quick as a viper. She snatched his wrist before he could back away, turning it on itself. Jayce winced and jumped forward to avoid any damage.

 

“Ayhg!” Is what the strangled yelp that loudly burst out of his mouth sounded like. “Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch.”

 

Jinx stilled, her eyes agape. 

 

Jayce was mirroring the expression, holding on to his forearm.

 

Slowly, their heads rotated in unison towards Silco and Viktor, who had been immersed in conversation. 

 

Their focus had roamed towards them, calmly analysing how Jinx effortlessly held Jayce’s limb in a death-grip. 

 

Jayce offered a it’s fine, we're fine, smile. It did not come out as a smile, though, but more of a wry attempt at the gesture.

 

After a moment, both men calmly resumed their chat. Jayce returned his attention to his wrist, currently still in peril. 

 

“Let… me… go,” Jayce whispered with effort. 

 

She released him at once. “Sorry! Sorry. Reflexes, they’re jerky little things.” 

 

Jayce's fingers flew to massage his opposite wrist, a deep scowl embedded in his features. 

 

“We're gonna have to work on that.” 

 

“Didn't do it on purpose,” Jinx harrumphed before she bounced down on the table again. After a tense pause, she admitted in a low voice, “It's not the only thing I didn't do on purpose.” 

 

Jayce kept his distance this time, but softened his tone. 

 

“What… happened?” 

 

She blew a raspberry. “Ever heard of a clockwork bomb puzzle?” 

 

Jayce scavenged his memory. “No…?” 

 

Her head snapped toward him, eyes lighting up. “It's a toy. You can hide stuff inside, and if the wrong person tries to open it…” Jinx’s fingers interlaced before they drew backwards in a semi-circular way. 

 

Ah. 

 

“And you left one here?” 

 

She was quiet for a moment. “I leave one in most places I like. I hid it in the lab next door when I went to the bathroom that day. I snuck it in a vent,” she moaned, as if she should have been rewarded for her forward thinking. With an impish tone, she added, “Now I'm thinking you might have a serious rat problem.” 

 

“I see. I do hear scratching in the walls, from time to time,” Jayce mused, leaning back on his chair as he continued to apply soft pressure in his aching joint.

 

“Ironic, huh?” Jinx wiggled her brows. “In the place where everyone supposedly shits gold.”

 

Jayce huffed, yet his eyes flickered toward Viktor, causing his chest to tighten in response. 

 

“Can I ask you never to leave one here again?” 

 

“Yeah,” she drawled with a high-pitched tone laced with guilt. “I meant it, you know?” 

 

Jayce dipped his gaze in her direction to search for her meaning.

 

“The whole…” I'm sorry, she mouthed again with dramatic flair. 

 

Jayce snorted. 

 

“You know, suppressing your apology but openly admitting to everything else kind of defeats the purpose of avoiding incrimination.” 

 

She was breezily swinging her braid in circles anew, her voice frighteningly light and jovially casual as she crossed her ankle over her bent knee. “I'm sure you're aware that if you mouth off, I'll gut you like a pig.” 

 

Jayce was deeply disturbed, especially considering she seemed like a teenager. In her late teens, sure. But a child, nonetheless. 

 

And worse still– he believed her. 

 

His eyes searched the opposite corner of the room once more, heavily landing on a familiar target.

 

“You'll have to get in line.” 

///

“You did good,” Silco finally murmured, staring at his daughter drawing teethed creatures along the edges of Jayce's suit schematics. Talis sat against the edge of the table, back turned to them to face Jinx's stormwind of creativity combusting on his chalkboard. 

 

“I would've done it regardless,” Viktor responded dryly. 

 

Silco hummed. “Still. This could have been far messier to clean up.”  

 

After a beat, he inquired, “I trust you received my token of appreciation?” 

 

“Mhm.” Viktor couldn't remove his eyes from the sight before him. How Jinx seemed to coax the childishness out of Jayce, himself. “Locked and secured.” 

 

“Good,” he nodded. “Use it wisely.”

 

An indomitable smirk stretched on Viktor's lips. “Did you really go out of your way to coerce the enforcer to apologise to me?” 

 

“The boy carries his chin far too high, for my liking,” Silco deliberated. “A simple nudge is all that's needed to tip someone back into their rightful place, at times.” 

 

“A simple nudge,” Viktor huffed amusedly. “Dare I ask?” 

 

Silco let out a sharp, mirthful exhale through his nose. 

 

“You haven't visited in some time,” he offered instead, that low voice curling with a promise. “You know where to find me.” 

 

And with that, Silco sauntered away. Viktor watched as Jinx caught on in a blink, as if wired to his every movement. Instinctively, she dropped the chalk in her hand, immediately forgotten with a clunk on the floor, and joyfully followed close behind her father. 

 

Viktor tucked away the invitation, currently dormant but not forgotten in the least.

 

He did not miss the way Jayce glanced his way, his needless concern palpable all the way from across the room.

 

With practiced nonchalance, Viktor returned to his nook and retreated to his affairs.

 

Except his tedious work was beginning to taste like sand in his mouth, dry and bland, when compared to the other seed that had found fertile soil within the confines of his cranium.

 

Viktor was entirely helpless in the wake of its irrepressible sprouting.

 

He had been counting on the passage of time, eroding that previous desire into a sensical shutdown.

 

Instead, it had only worsened the draw.

 

It was truly abhorrent because whenever he closed his eyes, Viktor could picture that astounding accomplishment coming true rather effortlessly. 

 

As if he were already behind in getting it started. 

 

Regardless of how many times he reminded himself that such a creation came hand in hand with the source of a harrowing heartache. 

 

That desk across from him was anything but casual. It screamed for a kind of attention Viktor was failing to reel in. 

 

Viktor found himself staring at it whenever he got distracted, as if there was a mutual challenge occurring between them.

 

Could he snip off his burdensome emotionality to pursue greatness?

 

Viktor went home early that day, intending to sleep off his pounding migraine. 

 

Instead, more impertinent ideas hatched while in conscious slumber.

///

By the time Friday arrived, Jayce was still adding new thoughts to the forbidden desk. The back-and-forths continued throughout the day, and that curiosity perpetually blooming–despite how many times Viktor adamantly shushed it away–was becoming a hassle to live with. 

 

Viktor inadvertently fell down rabbit holes within his own coding endeavor, where he’d unconsciously wonder if programming that specific line differently could allow for a freedom within the A.I. that had no reason to exist in his current project. 

 

Whenever he caught himself doing so, he would insult himself in his mind. It only caused the frustration to grow. 

 

And Viktor and Jayce hadn't talked. 

 

Not one word. 

 

Viktor also despised the fact that it was bleakly bittersweet. 

 

When evening set in and Viktor finally heard Jayce leave for the weekend, he was finally released from that sour taste in his mouth. 

 

If Jayce was gone, there was no drug in the vicinity. Any ill-advised temptation was easily squandered.

 

Three hours later, Viktor turned off his computer to head home, as well. When he rose from his seat, lower back aching as per usual, he swerved to head toward the exit. 

 

Except his limbs stilled. 

 

His whole body lay in wait.

 

No, no, please. We're leaving. We were just about to leave!

 

He's not here though. He won't know. 

 

That's inconsequential to the fact. 

 

One peek couldn't hurt. 

 

Yes, it could. 

 

You know you're fucking dying to. 

 

But at what cost? 

 

You'll regret it if you don't, his consciousness replied with the equivalent of a mental shrug. You'll spend the rest of your counted existence thinking of that time you held a hypothetical, pioneering breakthrough by your fingertips and let it slip for no other reason other than fear .

 

I have every reason to want no part in this, he grumbled inwardly. I'm no coward.

 

Prove it.

 

He lifted his digits to massage his temples.

 

What about the last time I took a chance in a never-seen-before scientific pursuit? Remember that ? 

 

His upper chest tightened in recognition.

 

This isn't a commitment. It's most likely that he's compiled every shade of useless, and it will kill your drive in an instant. Isn't that what you want? 

 

Viktor peeked at the desk, surveying it from afar. 

 

With a heavy exhale, he nudged closer. Casually, Viktor leaned his hip on the wooden edge, keeping his eyes lingering on the empty room before him. In a flash, he flickered his eyes down and up again. 

 

He analysed the snapshot in his brain.

 

Were those…  more drawings? 

 

He darted his eyes down with every intention to keep his plausible deniability. However, this time, regardless of his fierce intentions, they didn't rise again.

 

There were dozens of post-its, and all of them with a new, hasty sketch. A hand. A spine. A leg. Another leg, in a different aesthetic. 

 

Others had writing on them.

 

One said, Since the body will be metal, and not flesh, the nervous system should be integrated into the suit. Does metal still make sense? If what we need are sensory conductors, wouldn't optical fiber be a much more efficient choice, now?  

 

Oh.

 

Another, right next to it, Sensors in all of its body? Would we want it to feel every inch of it? Or only in hands, joints, chest, so on and so forth?

 

Yet another, How to integrate warning signs for a compromised body? Should it feel pain? Should we spare it? Or is pain important, somehow?

 

Viktor scrunched his brows. Rolled the chair out and took a seat, leaning his cane on the table.

 

A different one read, How to simulate sensory input in general in a metal shell? 

 

Centralized power core? Otherwise, the thing would cease to exist if uncharged, no? ethical issues?

 

What constitutes consciousness? What does sentience require? Maybe making that clear should come first.

 

ETHICAL ISSUES. Asserted on its own separate Post-it.

 

Viktor's eyes watered traitorously, and his heartbeat pulsed with aching recognition. 

 

Recognition for that scrawl. Recognition for that insatiable brainpower. Recognition for that relentless, inquisitive spirit. 

 

Recognition for that forsaken part of himself, vibrating in a deserted vault Viktor had hurled into an abyss unseeked by memory. 

 

The heavy feeling only deepened when Viktor's attention fell upon the picture frame, proudly standing in the corner of the table. A new napkin had been placed inside it, equal to the one Jayce had signed for Viktor in his car.

 

A legal reminder that Jayce wanted nothing from this, and would take nothing for himself other than intellectual gratification– if one were to believe his intentions.

 

Viktor wasn't particularly inclined to. 

 

But, holy Gods. 

 

Viktor found himself eager to answer all of these questions. 

 

Instead, he decided to cut the thread and run home.

 

Only–

 

Viktor couldn't sleep. 

 

He tossed and turned, utterly unable to keep himself from thoroughly answering each query in his head. 

 

By four A.M, Viktor was out the door.

///

On Monday afternoon, Jayce stalked towards that infernal desk that was quickly becoming a graveyard composed of the remains of his lingering hope. 

 

As he was going to stick the new Post-it, he froze. 

 

Something was different. 

 

As his eyes furiously scanned the contents before him, his lungs squeezed inside his chest. 

 

Some of them had answers. 

 

Answers that hadn't been there before. 

 

‘Wouldn't optical fiber be a much more efficient choice?’ Viktor had underlined.

 

Yes. The 'nervous system' would no longer be responsible for holding up weight, but for input. Although mapping it as a sensory web would come hand in hand with movement. 

 

Jayce's breath was coming and going faster than usual, and he made a conscious effort to keep it noiseless. 

 

It was not an easy task. 

 

‘Sensors in all of its body?’

 

That will depend on the goal. Or their preference, I suppose?

 

He leaned further on the desk, hunting for scribbles that weren't his own. 

 

‘Is pain important, somehow?’

 

Pain is essential for compassion, as well as the development of a sense of humanity. 

 

Jayce’s brows knitted together, new queries coming to the surface in his mind.

 

‘What does sentience require?’ 

 

Good question. 

 

Jayce preened, his chest filling with foolish pride at the direct response. 

 

Maybe Viktor didn't quite know himself, just yet. 

 

Jayce bit his lower lip in an attempt to keep from swirling around and jumping on his former friend with unbridled elation. 

 

But that would crash the little progress that was currently staring back at him from that table. 

 

Embodying his most casual energy, Jayce took a seat behind the desk and underlined the segments he would be directly acknowledging in his answers. 

 

‘mapping it as a sensory web would come hand in hand with movement.’

 

I could see that. It's a far more manageable challenge– we wouldn't have to build around it, just successfully integrate it.

 

‘that will depend (...) on its preference, I suppose?’ 

 

So you'd build the consciousness first, and then make the thing a part of its own creation? Would that mean that you'd strip consciousness to its barest of concepts and build upon it, in tandem with the thing?

 

‘Pain is essential for compassion, as well as humanity.’ 

 

Well, the thing wouldn't be particularly human. In this case, maybe suffering is not necessary? and if you wanted some semblance of humanity, couldn't you code it into existence? 

 

Once he was finished, he added his newest Post-it, which stated, brain? What would its brain even look like? What would we want it to consist of? 

 

Then, Jayce stood unceremoniously, and without a single glance at that forbidden nook, he returned to his side of the lab. 

 

Viktor didn't leave his space for the rest of the day. 

///

The following morning, the first thing Jayce did was beeline for that desk. 

 

Heart galloping alongside his quickened pace. Every sense heightened in feverish anticipation.

 

His attention landed on each Post-it individually, scrutinising every letter for any sign of novelty. 

 

There was none. 

 

Jayce didn't allow his disappointment to fester. 

 

And even though there was a grain of anger still rasping the confines of that secluded obscurity looming in his psyche–especially at the thought that Jayce was truly so unsupportable as to need such a vast degree of separation between them–, Jayce didn't break his promise, this time. 

 

A much more palpable part of him felt lucky that Viktor had indulged him, to begin with. 

 

It was scratching the surface of what he'd dared hope for during those days when he’d openly sobbed into his nursing palms, all those years ago. 

 

Nevertheless,–and despite there being no indication of further interest–Jayce continued to visit the space the second he stepped into the lab, every morning. 

 

The moment he caught on to new replies the following Thursday, joy erupted inside his sternum.

 

There's more, there's more, there's more.

 

Jayce felt the need to sit down to avoid getting dizzy. 

 

He'd learned the hard way that mania was just as exhaustive as whatever lay on the other side of that coin. 

 

He's interested.

 

Even if Viktor refused to admit it. Once could have been mistaken for pity, but twice… The second time was a personal choice. 

 

Then again, Jayce did have a tendency to read into everything and end up looking the fool.

 

Still, he refocused on the yellow sticky papers and devoured the new additions. 

 

‘you'd build the consciousness first, and then make it a part of its own creation?’ 

 

Isn't that the point? 

 

But… How could the thing know what it wanted? Wouldn't coding its preferences into existence supply “what it wanted”? Wouldn't it rob it of wanting something else, in the future?

 

‘and if you wanted some semblance of humanity, couldn't you code it into existence?’ 

 

I'd want them to have a choice. To learn of their own accord. 

 

Jayce scratched his jaw as he considered. In time, he turned to the last edit. 

 

‘What would we want (the brain) to consist of?’

 

Another interesting question– are you unwell, by any chance? 

First things that pop to mind: storing memory, sensory/emotional processing, perception modules, logical/analytical thinking, spatial awareness, motor control/balance, decision making, language processing… we would have to mimic a neural network. Only with conductive cables.

 

Jayce reached for his pen with an undercurrent of hidden excitement. 

///

 

It became an unsought game. 

 

At first, Viktor promised himself to only respond once per week. Usually on Thursdays. 

 

Unfortunately, that day of the week became a fixed point in his routine he unconsciously stalled for. 

 

Not because he wanted to interact with Jayce, but because the thoughts being discussed through Post-its were far more intriguing than what Viktor was currently working on. 

 

Which was a dreadful conclusion. 

 

Soon enough, Viktor's self-baby-sitting faltered, for a behavior that was purposefully contained to once a week only, began to occur bi-weekly. 

 

Their scientific debates and queries turned more philosophical, nuanced, and the dialogue was scratching a part of himself that Viktor had failed to recognise within for too long.

 

Of course, he ensured to avoid giving Jayce any ideas. 

 

They continuously–and surgically–poked holes in each other's concepts, day in and day out.

 

This hand looks like it was drawn by a toddler, Viktor harshly wrote one time next to one of the many anatomic propositions Jayce had left behind. 

 

You do better, then, he replied the following day. 

 

It was rather strange. During the weeks that followed, neither responded to the Post-its during the hours when they coincided at work. Face to face, there wasn't a single glance shared with the other. 

 

Even Jayce had relented his daily strolls to the desk. 

 

In fact, Jayce had ceased his good mornings, and no longer looked up when Viktor stepped into their common space for the day. He merely continued with whatever task he’d busied himself with and ignored Viktor’s presence entirely.

 

Which was… Perplexing. 

 

It was as if Viktor no longer existed to him.

 

In the grand scheme of things, Viktor was profoundly glad that was the case. Hadn't that been what he'd longed for? To be invisible?

 

But that minuscule, treasonous flicker inside growled of a wrongness Viktor made sure to ignore. 

 

Additionally, the sudden lack of Talis in his field of vision only deepened the intrigue of whether there were new hypotheses awaiting Viktor at all. 

 

There always were.

 

But that detestable curiosity had trampled his bi-weekly rule, causing Viktor to at least near the desk once per night, usually before heading home.

 

Rereading their conversations. Revising his replies. Considering new ones.

 

Still, Viktor managed to keep his answers far apart to give himself some space so as not to dive in head first into a pool composed of customized methamphetamine. 

 

That was the objective of Viktor’s current self-baby-sitting situation. 

 

Unfortunately, he would be lying if he said that having these discussions, as reduced and far apart as they were, as painfully superficial as they turned out due to the limiting medium of communication, didn't further defibrillate Viktor's aspiration. 

 

Determined to prove a point, Viktor spent a number of nights sketching a new gauntlet, a task that did not come naturally to him in the slightest.

 

But he'd forced himself to learn over the years. Viktor had no interest in becoming dependent on anyone but himself ever again. 

 

That time, he couldn't wait for his curated routine. The moment Jayce left for the day, Viktor accepted his failure between clenched teeth as he shared his mind for the third time that week. 

 

Taking a page out of Talis's book, Viktor allowed his nosiness to take the wheel the night after that and casually checked for any new additions to the desk. 

 

Indeed, there was a novel sticky paper saying,

 

SINCE WHEN???? CAN YOU??? SKETCH LIKE THAT????? 

 

Viktor couldn't hold back his snort. 

 

We're going to have to put you on blueprint duty more often. Also, are those… Heat sensors? 

 

There was a small tug on Viktor’s lips, and for once, he allowed it. 

 

He was alone, after all. 

 

Yes. I thought it could be interesting if, hypothetically, the body could sense danger before the mind. What if the body responded automatically, like humans’ do? Viktor was helpless to leave behind his response.

 

Curiously enough, the conversational Post-its had turned into sheets of paper as time went on. Each sheet broached a different topic, so as not to entangle them in their discussion. 

 

Still, nowhere near the depth these discourses truly demanded. 

 

Should Viktor be satiating his intrigue this way? 

 

Whether he should or not no longer seemed to be of importance, for those exchanges became insupportably addictive. Which only increased their recurrence. 

 

It was also the most unconventional form of having a debate with another person. Stretched for weeks on end, casual and yet meticulous in their approach. 

 

And still, unsatisfactory. Inconclusive. Tediously slow. 

 

Viktor sort of dissociated from the complicated history with that person– his attention had been snatched by a far more interesting topic. 

 

It wasn't about Talis, or himself, or anything but work. Untangled, uncomplicated, and secretively thrilling.

 

And with each new dusk, each new intellectually challenging remark, each new outlandish prospect, Viktor’s own project began to take a secondary seat in his mind. 

 

Viktor thought about constructing this potential entity while he ate, while he showered, while he programmed, while he dreamt. After a mere month and a week, it had festered and taken over completely. 

 

The mere possibility was bleeding into everything, and there was no shoving the thought back into Pandora's box.

 

Viktor felt as if he were losing a battle, while simultaneously regaining a side to himself that had been utterly dormant for years. 

 

One he'd never realised he'd missed in himself. One that reminded him of his essence, of his true calling within the short and dismal life he'd been handed. 

 

One that reshaped that misery into quiet exhilaration.

 

The one that sought to innovate and reshape the mold in which one cradled the beauty of progress through scientific anarchy.

 

And even though most of his field colleagues would disagree with this perspective, call it dangerous, or irresponsible, or bad practice, Viktor had found himself in the company of one who fed on it. One who was equally impolitic in his suggestions and unapologetically so. 

 

Most limitations mentioned so far were due to proven impossibility, not prudence. 

 

And Viktor thrived on it. 

 

Why did it have to be Jayce Talis, though? He groaned childishly inside his brain. He ruined me.

 

But, perhaps… Perhaps Viktor could separate the man from the scientist? 

 

It was becoming obvious that he wouldn't really be having a choice on the matter.

 

Hence, Viktor decided to hire a lawyer. He brought the napkin and the recording, and professionally checked whether or not they were viable. 

 

After some revision, the lawyer conceded that they would hold up in court, but that perhaps it was more advisable to draw up a proper contract to leave no wiggle room.

 

Viktor paid her to draft one. 

///

When Viktor sauntered into the lab one morning, his first notice was that Jayce was not in his habitual work space. Not even his lapple bag was to be accounted for. 

 

As he rounded the corner of the small hall that followed the entrance, he stuttered to a stop. 

 

Jayce was seated at their common desk, instead– hunched over the surface, furiously scribbling down his replies. 

 

And the sight was what crumbled Viktor’s final indecisiveness. 

 

Because, in truth, Viktor was keen to pry into whatever new queries had arisen surrounding their common interest. He had grown tired of forcing himself to wait.

 

Still, he wasn't entirely sure how to approach this. 

 

Viktor could hold back no longer– despite the harsh awareness of how this bad idea could end. But knowing, somehow, made it all far more tolerable. 

 

He wouldn't be blinded– not when, even after every precaution, he still had half a mind to expect the worst.

 

But Viktor had come prepared. 

 

Not to step into the ignited pull of this new venture would be yet another betrayal, and Viktor refused to amputate more of himself. 

 

In this moment of slight insanity, he didn't allow himself to consider anything beyond that. 

 

Quietly, he approached Talis. 

 

He was completely engrossed in whatever he was writing, which explained why he hadn't turned around. 

 

Viktor leaned to read what he was noting down over the slope of his shoulder. 

 

Here we go.

 

“I would appreciate it if you'd stop calling them the thing ,” he said casually.

_ _ _

Forty-seven days. 

 

Jayce had not heard his voice in forty-seven days. 

 

That soft rumble, interlaced with an accent that curved every word coming out of his mouth with a honeyed stroke. 

 

Forty. Seven. 

 

Jayce's stomach clenched tightly before his mind could catch up to the fact. 

 

At the unexpected closeness of the sound, Jayce jolted in his seat, pen clattering on the table as his hand flew to cover his heart. When he turned and finally confirmed who exactly was addressing him, a trembling breath escaped through his lips.

 

“God,” Jayce complained. Viktor was poised behind him, serene, eyes locked on the paper Jayce had just been writing on. 

 

A fluttering wave travelled from his gut and settled on his chest. 

 

Viktor was talking to him.

 

“Since when are you so sneaky?” Jayce let out.

 

Viktor huffed through his nose.

 

“There's much about me you don't know, Dr. Talis.” 

 

Ah.

 

The double entendre hung in the air between them until Jayce furrowed his brows. 

 

“What's wrong with the thing?” 

 

“It's dehumanising.” 

 

“But it doesn't even exist!” 

 

“They do in spirit.” 

 

“Being alive in our thoughts does not constitute spirit.” 

 

“So you say.” 

 

Jayce's lips tugged as he leaned back on the chair with a creak. “Besides, the thing is one of the coolest Fantastic Four characters.” 

 

Viktor schooled a deadpan expression, and Jayce expected him to walk away from the interaction altogether. 

 

Pop culture was not his area of interest. 

 

“Isn't that the hero made of rock?” Viktor wondered cautiously, instead. He tilted his chin down. “Isn't there a story arc about him not being treated like a person? This is a godawful argument to build your case upon.” 

 

Slowly, Jayce cracked a genuine smile at the reprimanding tone, equally driven by his giddy surprise that Viktor always knew more than he let on.

 

“Hi.”

 

Viktor scowled. 

 

“Hello.” 

 

“Fine,” Jayce relented with amusement. “Then how am I to address this nonexistent being?” 

 

Viktor hummed. “Seems we will have to come up with a name.” 

 

Jayce's insides clenched in a show of stupid hopefulness. 

 

“Oh?” 

 

For one, Viktor shifted in place. His eyes darted over the surface of the table before flickering to Jayce. “Do you have a moment?” 

 

Jayce's lips were eager to curl further up, but he attempted to keep his profound exhilaration hidden within. 

 

“I have all the moments,” he admitted lightly. 

 

“Hm.” 

 

Despite the invitation, Viktor did not make a move. Not to start a conversation, not to go anywhere else. He simply stood there, the perfect embodiment of awkwardness. 

 

It made Jayce want to laugh. 

 

Especially when he remembered that it was first thing in the morning.

 

“Would you like some coffee?” He asked Viktor with a trace of mirth. 

 

Viktor looked up to the heavens with a relieved exhale. “Desperately.” 

 

“Let's do it, then. I'll wash your cup while you get it started.” 

 

Viktor's eyebrows arched. “You don't have to do that.”

 

Jayce had already sprung into a stand, grunting as he stretched his arms far above his head. At the uttered words, he nervously glanced down again. 

 

“Oh, I um– I want to?” He tried. 

 

There was a right and a wrong answer, and he was meticulously attempting to avoid the latter. 

 

Viktor shrugged without much effort behind it. “Suit yourself.” 

 

Taking his indifference in stride, Jayce walked past him to reach for the abandoned mug atop the desk inside Viktor's nook. He moved to the sink, quickly soaping the sponge and rinsing out any traces of coffee. 

 

When he returned, the machine was already brewing, and Viktor had taken a seat in his usual spot. 

 

Jayce left the mug on the wooden surface before pivoting to wheel another chair closer. By the time he settled, Viktor was already pouring in his cup. 

 

“Will your brain not combust, standing so close to the… How did you refer to it once? Atrocious smell?” 

 

Jayce chuckled. “Believe it or not, I've survived so far. Barely,” he added with a feigned look. 

 

In all honesty, the scent itself had never really bothered him in the slightest. 

 

The corner of Viktor's mouth curved ever so slightly. “Seems I'll have to try harder, then.” 

 

“Please, do.” 

 

Viktor raised a brow as he eased into his chair, mug held inches away from his lips. “So eager to meet your maker?” 

 

Jayce slithered out of his actual meaning. “Wouldn't you? I'd assume we'd both have some serious questions to ask them.” 

 

There was that twitch in his lips again, so seemingly insignificant and yet… 

 

“Yes. It seems asking questions is one of the things you and I continue to have in common.” 

 

After taking another sip of his coffee, Viktor lowered the mug, setting it aside. He moved his keyboard out of the way before pulling a sheet of paper out of his drawer. 

 

He stared at it for a moment. After a heavy sigh, he slid the document across the table. 

 

Jayce blinked at it. “What's this?” 

 

Viktor didn’t respond right away. He kept his unreadable eyes on Jayce, lingering in the quiet. 

 

“You were... right, also.” He idly rotated the angle of his mug between two fingers, gaze pinned on it. “I want to bring this idea to life.” 

 

Fuck. Yes.

 

Jayce pressed his palms to his thighs, concealing their shakes of restrained emotion. He wanted to let out a cackle of disbelief. He wanted to cry. He wanted to leap into the air and holler. 

 

Jayce stilled himself, instead.

 

“It's an official contract,” Viktor continued, “covering everything you alluded to in your napkin.” 

 

As Viktor spoke, Jayce leaned forward to take a closer look. 

 

“If we're to give it a proper try, I'm ensuring we're doing it my way, this time.” 

 

Jayce could hear the translation behind such a prevention. 

 

I don't trust your word.

I don't trust your intentions. 

I don't trust you.

 

That ache wallowing deep within flared. 

 

“Please take your time reviewing it. If you're serious about this proposition, you should know I will not join you without it.” 

 

Jayce was inclining himself over Viktor's belongings, curiously glancing around. He spotted what he was hunting among the organised clutter and calmly picked it up.

 

“I have the freedom to leave at any point, as well as keep authority over whatever we build. I want to make sure you and I are on the same page before discussing it any–”

 

“Done.” 

 

Jayce slid the paper and pen back in Viktor's direction.

 

His eyes were wide as he stared at the signed document. Stupefied amber climbed to meet Jayce's unyielding attention. 

 

“I trust you, Viktor,” Jayce clarified with a faint smile. “And I stand by everything I said.” 

 

And despite it all, that remained true. Not the second statement, that was rather obvious to Jayce. 

 

But the first. 

 

He trusted the person before him more than he probably should. 

 

Even so,  it was one of those things he couldn't quite control or switch off. It just… was. 

 

And he would find a way to be okay with the fact that it wasn't reciprocal. 

 

“What now?” 

 

Viktor safeguarded the document inside his cabinet drawer with a grimace. “I'm not sure. Where do we even start with something of this magnitude?” 

 

A deliberate smirk unfurled in Jayce’s mouth.

 

“Well,” he said nonchalantly, “since you were so thorough with your sketch all those weeks back–which we need to address eventually, by the way–, I may or may not have… built a prototype of it… in my free time.” 

 

Viktor's jaw dropped. 

 

“You did not.” 

 

Jayce was stubbornly nodding. “I did, yes.” 

 

I grew impatient waiting for your damn, snail-timed, replies. 

 

Fleeing to the smithy had kept Jayce's mind thoroughly occupied, and he'd desperately needed the distraction.

 

Viktor's lips pressed together as his eyes narrowed, searching Jayce's expression for any sign of deceit. 

 

“Can–” He cleared his throat. “Can I see?” 

 

This time, Jayce didn't tamp down his smile. 

 

He let it bloom.

 

“I thought you'd never ask.” 

Notes:

Did I expect this fic to get weirdly philosophical? No, no I did not. Bear with me while I try to make sense of any of it 😂

trying to get close to someone deeply avoidant can be a challenge, but it seems j is starting to get the hang of it x)

i love silco. i want to write a scene of him bashing someones head in by stomping on it. always so mysterious.

powder still lives D: i see her peeking out of jinx ;) how are we gonna get her to reunite with her sister, you ask? i say, dont ask me difficult questions >:(

v: DONT LOOK AT ME DONT TALK TO ME
j: obliges
v: why arent you looking at me or talking to meeeee D: (again, like when he was stuck in Jayce's bed--- v, v, v... tsk, tsk, tsk. if I say what i think, you'll have an aneurysm)

the infamous push and pull dance jayce promised himself to learn :) to push without the person feeling pushed in the slightest so they wont retreat D: but then again, it was about time he lived up to his "patience I have to spare" comment

but j hiding his feelings as not to scare v away D: he be traumatised

I know this was a bit rushed but honestly them not interacting was making me deeply miserable, I much rather write those interactions instead of whatever this is x) there's so MANY conversations pending between these two. But we have to make it safe for v, he deserves nothing less after what he went through.

WERE ON OUR WAAAAAY (have I been saying this for 218k words now?)

I hope you have an amazing (however long until we see each other). Take care!!

As always, any feedback and/or overall opinion is not only welcome, but deeply motivating and appreciated <3 truly

tooodalooooo!

Chapter 31: I do enjoy being threatened with a good time.

Notes:

helloooooooo! hope everyone is doing okay!!

okay so REALLY TERRIBLE SCIENCE AHEAD I am no scientist in the slightest (cant stress that enough)

mostly technical here but more chats to come (had to divide the chapter because it was getting very long)

Also, thank you for the 500 kudos! still continues to baffle me

happy jayvik!

Once Viktor finished his coffee, Jayce drove them to the smithy. 

 

Viktor was taken aback by the discovery that he did not feel entirely uncomfortable in Jayce's presence. The underlying buzz of seeing some ridiculous sketch drawn out of boredom brought to life quieted any other hypothetical concerns. 

 

He kept his eyes on the road, silently pondering if Jayce would take advantage of the fact that Viktor had nowhere to run to bombard him with his usual questions. 

 

And even though Viktor could sense fleeting side-eyes coming from the driver, there were no verbal attempts to pry. 

 

Which was mildly suspicious. 

 

Still, Viktor clung to the silence, wore it like a suit of armor, and focused his attention on the real objective. 

 

As Jayce pulled over and parked in front of a familiar building, Viktor’s stomach wouldn’t stop coiling.

 

They exited the vehicle, and Viktor stood to the side as Jayce unlocked the front door.

 

It was revoltingly bittersweet.

 

On one hand, a room was just a room. Walking into that space needn't be anything other than that. A truth wrapped around a cold blanket. 

 

On the other hand, well. Viktor had been a completely different person the last time he'd entered it, hadn't he? 

 

As Jayce stepped inside, he flicked on the lights and headed directly toward his personal area.

 

Something inside was nudging Viktor, emerging from the depths to warn him that he shouldn't be here. It exhorted Viktor to protect himself.

 

The appearance of that voice came hand in hand with an uninvited warmth cloaking his chest. 

 

It was far from the comforting kind.

 

“Come on, it's over here,” Jayce invited, walking ahead of him and completely oblivious to Viktor's reticence. 

 

Why wouldn't he be? 

 

It's not like he knew. How this room reminded Viktor of his naïve self, of some absurd emotions he'd permitted to run amok under the protection of a timely departure. 

 

However, there was a delicate thread wrapped around his sternum, softly tugging him forward. The desire to see Jayce’s work was stronger than the ghost of a version of himself. 

 

One that had been put to rest long ago.

 

Cane clicking on the stone floor, Viktor trailed close behind. 

 

Jayce rounded a stone table in the back and gestured to the middle of the furniture.  

 

Any lingering, impertinent thoughts vanished all at once. 

 

Viktor's eyes widened as he approached, analysing every visible corner of the glove that stood perched on a metal rod. The clear, beautiful silver glinted under the warm lights like a shiny new toy. 

 

It was a perfect manifestation of what Viktor had envisioned. Except, somehow… Better. 

 

The enormous gauntlet was hollow within, every joint connected by a different piece, perfectly aligned to allow for fluid movement. Each knuckle was an independent segment, cascading into a broad palm. Even the wrist was encircled by a rotating ring, suggesting that it could, most likely, swivel freely.  

 

It was as if a human hand had been stung by a bee and had suffered an allergic reaction to double in size. 

 

It seemed soft around the edges, and– there was yet another piece linking the fingers at the base. 

 

Viktor felt his brows gradually knit together.

 

“Can I touch it?” He murmured, swollen by his curiosity.

 

Jayce made a welcoming gesture with his hand. “Be my guest.” 

 

Viktor didn't look up to confirm Jayce's intolerable self-satisfaction, but he could hear it all the same.

 

Detestable, really. Even if Viktor could admit that, just at first glance, it was somewhat justified.

 

It was a rudimentary prototype, stripped to its bare basics. And still, when Viktor neared his hand to the awaiting slivered palm, it engulfed him completely. 

 

“How big do you want them to be?” Viktor inquired with bemused accusation. 

 

Jayce had crossed his arms, fervently quiet as he followed Viktor's every move. His gaze had turned molten under the low, warm lights when it flickered to meet Viktor's. The corner of his mouth kicked up. “Big.” 

 

Viktor's grazed fingers over the cool, sleek metal, and after applying some mild pressure, he blinked at how sturdy it actually was. 

 

“What is it?” 

 

“Titanium,” Jayce responded with equal quiet. “I thought we'd need something lightweight, so the creature could have some agility, if it so wanted to.” 

 

Viktor hummed in acknowledgement.

 

Jayce shrugged lightly. “It won't melt easily. And it's highly resistant to corrosion.”

 

A snort came out of Viktor, his touch languidly exploring between the metal fingers. “In case they want to go for a swim?” 

 

“Why not?” Jayce asked with trained charm.

 

Viktor's gentle inspection climbed each ridge until it reached the tip of the middle finger. Cautiously, he applied some pressure, and with immediacy, the digit folded into itself. 

 

Intrigued by the plates in between, he gently slid that pressure to the side and watched the titanium finger follow his lead. 

 

Without being able to help it, Viktor's lips twitched. 

 

This would allow the entity to expand their hand and widen their grasp. 

 

How Jayce had considered everything, beyond what Viktor had mindlessly scribbled onto a sheet of paper, was… 

 

Bff. 

 

“Titanium for the whole build, then?” Viktor asked to change the subject in his mind. 

 

Stumbling into the habit of complimenting Jayce would lead them straight back to hell.

 

Jayce gave him a curt nod. “I think it's most sensible.”

 

Viktor tightened his lips, forcing himself to drop the idealism eager to nestle in his mind. 

 

“That's going to be costly.” 

 

“Ah.” 

 

Viktor’s gaze lifted automatically, curious to analyse what lay on the other side of the silence that had followed his remark. 

 

Jayce's lips adorned a frown, any spark in his eyes dissolved into a dejection that was no stranger to Viktor. 

 

He'd seen it painted on his former lab partner more than once since he’d returned. 

 

Viktor arched his brow, waiting for Jayce to make up his mind about whatever he was mulling over.

 

“I–” A sharp exhale. Jayce lifted his hand to massage his temples. “I could take care of that.” 

 

Viktor's chest squeezed in response. 

 

A dozen questions flooded his mind, such as ‘ how rich is this man still?!’ or ‘why, why, why?’. 

 

But now was not the time for any of them.

 

“Absolutely not.” 

 

Jayce dragged a hand down his face before concerned shades of green scrambled their way back up. “Why not?” 

 

“I won't have you financing the entire project. Even less so when it's under my name.” 

 

Talis shifted his weight, focus fleeting once again and finding refuge on the poised gauntlet. The stone table quickly turned into a newfound barricade between them. 

 

Jayce kept his tone achingly soft when he offered, “You could use me as an investor.” 

 

Viktor flinched. 

 

It was minuscule, but irrepressible. 

 

It was a sort of nightmare that Viktor hadn't been masochistic enough to ever conceive. And now he was finding himself thrust right in the middle of it.

 

But worst of all were the words that had been about to glide through his tongue. 

 

I don't want to use you. 

 

Paralysed by that unwelcome sentiment, Viktor stood frozen, scrutinizing every line indented in Jayce's expression. 

 

A familiar person was standing before him, yet simultaneously nothing but a stranger.

 

Finally, Jayce looked up, and even though there was a modest curve to his lips, all Viktor felt radiating from the man was profound sorrow. 

 

“It's only fair, right?” 

 

As if his sacrifice was owed.

 

And that palpable sentiment radiating from Jayce struck Viktor with a fresh, inescapable realization. 

 

Viktor's most ardent desire at present was to see this project through. More than anything, he wanted to succeed.

 

For that to happen in the foreseeable future, it was glaringly obvious that it could only be achieved by working together.

 

And if they would be working together…

 

Viktor could not be holding a perpetual guillotine over Jayce's neck. 

 

Perhaps in his mind, yes. In the privacy of his personal opinions, Viktor could despise the freakishly tall man and his despicable choices as much and as often as he pleased.

 

But not outwardly. Not anymore.

 

Not if Viktor wanted to prioritise his new purpose.

 

Jayce being under constant threat would only escalate their resentment and overly complicate their already difficult collaboration. The air would turn acrid, and inevitably, the focus would shift from the desired destination. 

 

Intimate feelings on the matter aside, that path did not align with Viktor’s current priority.

 

Any personal quarrels had to be stabled in order to keep their encounters as even-handed as humanly possible. Neutralised in the name of efficiency.

 

Otherwise, he might as well throw that stunning gauntlet to the bottom of the Piltovian sea and forget about the whole ordeal. If Viktor were to hold the past over Talis with every step of this arduous pursuit, they would never reach the finish line.

 

Besides, letting Jayce slap his money on the table would give him the impression that he'd be finally starting to make things right. 

 

And there was no amount of coin in this godforsaken world that could absolve him of his crimes. 

 

Viktor returned his knuckle to the titanium glove, offering a long caress over the sheeny surface of its back-hand. 

 

“No,” he softly confessed. “I could not.” 

 

The spoken words hung between them.

 

“Well,” Jayce continued with a lighter tone after the pause. “I have another idea, but I don't think you're going to like it, either.” 

 

Viktor rolled his eyes, his upper lip curling in distaste. “If you're about to suggest I start attending social events to grovel, I think I would rather throw myself off a three-story building.” 

 

Jayce blinked. 

 

And to Viktor's infinite surprise, he threw his head back and cackled.  

 

Viktor didn't quite understand what was so amusing about his confession– he’d meant every damned word. 

 

Yet all he could think instead was… 

 

There it fucking is.

 

I know that laugh. 

 

It was real, for once. Unfiltered and loud.  

 

It echoed around the room, bouncing back toward him from all directions. 

 

The sound caused Viktor's outline to go rigid. 

 

But something inside him was equally… Melting.

 

No. 

 

No, no, no. Out of my brain, out, out, out, out–

 

The inner demands only caused his spine to further stiffen, painful stabs shooting across his lower back and between his shoulder blades.

 

“I believe you,” Jayce croaked, rubbing his stomach. “We wouldn't want that, now would we?” 

 

“Depends on your plans to have me murdered,” Viktor responded with a low voice, flexing and unflexing that metal finger, moving it from side to side. “This would be a smart way to do it. Evidence of emotional torment is harder to collect.” 

 

“Hey,” Jayce complained. “It's not murder if you voluntarily jump out a window.” 

 

“It is if the victim has been driven to it.” 

 

Jayce clucked his tongue. “And how would they know?” 

 

Viktor's lips twitched, eyes still focusing on that sketch come to life. “I'd leave a note.”

 

His jaw slackened. “Blaming me?” 

 

“Exclusively,” Viktor replied with ease.

 

There was a memory cautiously stroking Viktor's consciousness, reminding him that this joke was not so far off a truth he'd fled from all those years ago.

 

Shaking his head, Jayce said, “As terrorizing as that would be, I was going to suggest something else.”

 

Thank God.  

 

The mere thought of having to find someone wealthy enough to afford it, unstable enough to want to see it through, but honorable enough to keep their paws off the final result would have been the bane of Viktor’s existence, to say the least. 

 

Secondary only to the man before him.

 

“What did you have in mind?” 

 

Jayce released a tight breath before he moved. In his own time, he navigated the space until he was before a metal closet, discreetly tucked into a corner. 

 

Rising to his tip-toes, he effortfully palped the back of the top shelf, turning his head to the side to find a better reach.

 

Inquisitiveness encircled Viktor's body, and before he knew it, he was slowly making his way across the room, as well. 

 

At last, Jayce retrieved a considerable metal box. He released a breath as he shut the closet doors anew and slunk toward the desk next to the entrance. 

 

Viktor mirrored each step while suffocating any thoughts pertinent to that familiar furniture.

 

Carefully, Jayce set down the box on the wooden surface.

 

Digging his hand into his pocket, Viktor heard soft jiggling before a set of keys was being sifted through by thick fingers. 

 

Holding onto the smallest one, Jayce slid it into the lock and turned it. 

 

It opened with a swift click .

 

Jayce’s hands brushed against the cover, hesitant. It was then that Viktor noticed they were faintly shaking.

 

And for some reason Viktor could not fully comprehend, it caused him to hold his breath. 

 

“Okay,” Jayce whispered to himself. 

 

He raised the lid, gently letting it fall back. 

 

Inside, there were mountains of documents. 

 

It didn't take long before Viktor recognised them: among them were Blowie’s blueprints. Viktor sniped his own handwriting on the margins of many of those sheets of paper, his signatures alongside Jayce’s. 

 

Viktor felt his throat painfully constrict, blurring the edges of his vision. 

 

But Jayce paid those documents no mind– he was determined to hunt for something else.

 

“Here it is,” he muttered as he pulled out a magazine. 

 

Viktor recognised it just as swiftly. 

 

This trip down memory lane was making his head pulsate. 

 

Talis flipped the issue open on that particular page, the one where the article of their win during the innovators competition had been printed. The gap of the cut-out picture of the two of them stared back like an unmarked, open grave unmarred by time. 

 

Viktor felt the urge to viscerally rip into Jayce for torturing him like this. It felt almost cruel.

 

Before he could, Viktor caught on to an addition that hadn't been there before. 

 

Inside, there lay a small square of paper, tucked between the pages. 

 

Jayce’s fingers lingered above it for a second before he picked it up, and without glancing in Viktor’s direction, stuck it out to him. 

 

Viktor stared at it. Gulping down that tightness, he lifted his digits and pried it away from Jayce's loose hold. 

 

Led by confusion, he unfolded it. Once. Twice. Three times. 

Certificate of Remittance

RECEIPT #: 1840201678

Beneficiary: Viktor Jedlitzka

Escrow Agent: Irius Bolbok Holdings

Account ID: PVZ - 2801030964 - EF

Funds available upon request. No expiry. 

Proof of ID, certificate, and private keyword needed for access.

Viktor was stunned into silence.

 

“The keyword is masterpiece,” Jayce shared with impossible quiet.

 

His mind, for once, was utterly mute.

 

When Viktor opened his mouth to attempt to speak, the bell rang through the air. 

 

“Oh, shit!” Jayce let out. “I must have set the lock. I'll be right back.” 

 

Jayce swirled and left the room as if the devil himself were nipping at his heels. 

 

Viktor's hands began to tremble as well when his widened eyes landed on the amount.

 

It was astronomical.

 

And to the cent, his half of Blowie's buyout.

 

Viktor was frozen. He didn't know whether to feel moved by the fact that Jayce had kept his portion of the arrangement intact for almost a decade, or whether to be insulted by the offering in the first place. 

 

Jayce hadn't absorbed his share, as Viktor had originally assumed.

 

He'd safeguarded it for Viktor to access in the future.

 

What the fuck.

 

Friendly chatter wafted into the room, but Viktor couldn't look away for that damning piece of paper. Jaw slackened, heartbeat quickened, breaths fastened– he had no guidance as to how to interpret the unexpected deed. 

 

With it, Viktor could not only fund this project, but many more if he so desired. As if among the ashes of that betrayal stood a petal, pristine and patiently waiting for Viktor to pluck it from the ruin that surrounded it. 

 

“Uh,” Jayce interrupted, leaning on the door handle. “Gio recognised you and wanted to say hi.” 

 

When Viktor finally looked up, eyes burning with an unshakable astonishment, they dragged away from Jayce to land on a familiar face. 

 

Gio grinned at him. “Hello. Long time, no see, Dr. Jedlitzka.” He extended his hand as he stepped closer. “I had to come over to tell you I've become a huge fan of your recent research. Never thought I'd turn my attention to prosthetics, but you've made it too compelling for me not to.” 

 

Viktor attempted to throttle himself out of his stupor as he analysed the greeting now pointed in his direction, steadily standing by.

 

“Oh,” was all that came out as he passed the document he'd been swallowed by to the hand harshly gripping the handle of his cane, and tentatively shook it. 

 

Those dark eyes were a stark contrast with his wavy platinum hair, flowing all the way down to his elbows. He had a muscular build and stood a few centimeters taller than Viktor. 

 

The only real difference from eight years ago was his bigger build, and the novel lines flowing in his features. 

 

Other than that, he seemed identical.

 

Gio chuckled. “I seem to have interrupted a deep thought.” 

 

Jayce awkwardly positioned himself to the side, eyes locked onto their clasped salute.

 

Viktor curled the corner of his lips upwards. “Apologies. It is nice to see you again. You've taken to building prosthetics, you say?” 

 

Gio offered a final squeeze, and Viktor retracted his hand.

 

“Yes. I would love to show them to you, if you’re interested in seeing what your work has inspired other people to do.” 

 

Viktor felt his cheeks start to burn. He waved a dismissive hand between them. “I'd be interested even if it had nothing to do with me. But I'm touched by the implication.” 

 

Jayce was now frowning, focus flickering between them. 

 

It was horridly distracting. 

 

And that fucking certificate was still scorching Viktor’s fingertips, demanding to be given attention.

 

“Maybe over dinner?” Gio wondered, broad smile intact. “On me. As a thank you.” 

 

Viktor had absolutely no idea what came over him, because what came out of his strained throat was, “Sounds like a plan.” 

 

Tension crackled between them, and those dark eyes glinted with a vow to devour. 

 

Which Viktor was not entirely opposed to, come to think of it. 

 

As if remembering Jayce was also present, Gio turned with a laugh and slapped his shoulder. “Don't worry, big guy. You can come, too! Bring a date and we’ll make it a double.” 

 

“Oh, no,” Viktor rushed to add. “Jayce is a busy man, I’m–” 

 

“I'd love to,” he interrupted, expeditiously cutting Viktor off. Jayce’s mischievous regard latched onto him with an unspoken challenge, and the smile adorning his mouth was not joyful, or welcoming, or warm– it was slicing. Venomously enlivened. 

 

Viktor found the inside of his mouth drying, because there was no question about it– the sight meant trouble.

 

Gio was none the wiser. 

 

“Done!” He grinned again. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he offered it to Viktor. “Would you be so kind as to give me your phone number? It'll make it easier to set up a date.” 

 

“Of course.” 

 

Silence settled among the three of them as Viktor punched the numbers onto the screen. The act was followed by the device being returned to its rightful owner. 

 

What did I just get myself into? 

 

“I will leave you both to your work. J, I'll see you around. Dr. Jedlitzka,” Gio added, his voice deepening when uttering his name. He offered his hand, yet again. 

 

“Viktor is fine,” he corrected, lifting his own to extend his farewell. 

 

In a curated move, Gio suavely guided Viktor's palm downwards as he bowed at the waist. That dark gaze remained fixed on Viktor’s as Gio brushed his lips against the back of his hand. 

 

Viktor gaped at him, tucking away the startled grimace that wanted to erupt in his mouth. Blinked. 

 

And as if provoked by an invisible, authoritarian force, he smiled instead.

 

He didn't know why he did it, but the man seemed nice enough. And Viktor was not currently tethered anywhere near himself.

 

“Viktor,” Gio repeated against his skin. He rose once more, flowy hair now swishing against his torso. “I'll be in touch.” 

 

Without another word, he pivoted and walked out of the room. 

 

After a brief pause, Viktor’s glare returned as it snapped back to Jayce, who simply stood there like a fucking muppet. 

 

“When were you going to tell me about this?” He hissed, snatching the document Jayce had handed to him a mere moment ago and waving it in the air. 

 

His head shook lightly, as if he were trying to make sense of what planet he was on or what Viktor was referencing. 

 

But that bafflement was short-lived. 

 

Jayce folded his hands behind his back, which was a translucent reaction to Viktor.

 

That posture was mostly spotted during social events. 

 

“When I believed you wouldn't sever my head from my body for it,” Talis answered casually. Then, he cocked his head with a certain detachment. “Are you really going on a date with him?” 

 

Viktor ignored him. “This is an absurd amount.” 

 

Jayce pursed his lips. 

 

“It's yours. It always was, Viktor. It's been waiting for you– for when you'd so choose to have it, at least.”  

 

Viktor narrowed his eyes, an ember of fury crawling up his throat. “It's blood money.” 

 

Jayce’s expression seemed vacant of emotion, which felt wholly unnatural on him. “Be that as it may, maybe you can repurpose it into something wonderful, now.” 

 

Viktor’s eyes darted over Jayce’s mask, searching but without any clue what for. 

 

“Salo must have been thrilled about this.” 

 

Nothing. No crack, no leeway, no sign of any personal stakes on the line. 

 

“I couldn't give less of a shit.” 

 

Oh, there he was again. Perhaps not in his features, but in a self-expression void of diplomacy. 

 

Viktor kept his eyes on Talis, searching for something else he could recognise.

 

He kept his face blank. 

 

“You said you didn't want me as an investor,” he calmly reminded. “You said you didn't want to search for anyone else, either. Well, there's your answer.” He gave the sheet of paper a nod. “That money belongs to you, and whether you choose to spend it or not, there it will remain.” 

 

Viktor lowered the certificate anew, previous anger dissolving into nothing. 

 

Jayce had a point. 

 

Which was one of the most exasperating sentences to ever exist. 

 

No guillotines over heads, remember? Be analytical. What do you want? What's the end goal here?  

 

Viktor pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed loudly.

 

“Bring the glove to the lab,” he said after a pause. “I want to tinker with it.” 

/// 

The rest of the week dripped past with no further interactions between the two. 

 

The only figment that kept Jayce’s hopes alive through the returned silence was the fact that Viktor had expressed wanting to work on the gauntlet. 

 

Jayce hadn't seen it since. 

 

Unfortunately, that stupid fucking pillar would not allow him to peek into what Viktor was currently doing with it. 

 

And strolling into Viktor’s space after the bomb he'd dropped on him felt rather insensitive. 

 

Jayce chose to give him the needed space to recalibrate his reality, instead. 

 

But it didn't mean he had to like it. 

 

And as if Jayce didn't have enough to concern himself with, his brain had, once again, fallen into the trapped habit of slinging snapshots of what that date could potentially look like into his field of vision. That petulant organ living in his skull had never had any consideration for his preferred choices.

 

To be honest, Jayce couldn't understand why he was so bothered about it in the first place. 

 

Yes, at this point, it was understood that there was some lingering affection for his former friend from way back when. The undying kind, sure. 

 

But Jayce wasn't in love with that person. It had been years since that fiasco had had any occupancy in his heart. 

 

Yet, funnily enough, this assault on his focus wasn't like the one he'd experienced when he'd been told about Silco. 

 

It was far quieter. No flinching in sight.

 

In fact, now that Jayce thought of it, he hadn't been troubled by that irritating itch, either. 

 

Not since–

 

It's like you're divided in two, and I– I sometimes think I see glimpses of my friend– from before.

 

But that person died to me.

 

Any harboring lust Jayce might have been fighting off within had fizzled out in a blink upon hearing those words. 

 

It was… So beyond meaningless in the wake of being reminded that Viktor had seen him as a friend, once. That he, too, had cared. That he also recognised flashes of a ghost in Jayce's presence. 

 

The feverish mission to remind him that that person was still very much alive inside him had evaporated any scorching desire rippling from all those years ago. 

 

He no longer longed for the past.

 

Jayce actively wanted the present.

 

And in the present, that lust was non-existent, as far as he could tell. 

 

The need to relieve himself at ungodly hours in the morning– gone. 

 

Fretful dreams of his once-upon-a-time lab partner– gone.

 

It was as if hearing those words slipping from Viktor's lips had prompted Jayce to let that part of himself die, too. 

 

If Jayce were to try to construct a new dynamic, he couldn't have secondary intentions. He didn't want to have secondary intentions. 

 

Especially not over someone he could no longer affirm to know, someone who was still reticent to accept his company. It was ugly, and unfair, and simply… wrong. 

 

He didn't want to feed into anything that had no place in this version of reality.

 

Every day, the fact settled further inside him– what he'd held on to was nothing but a paralleled daydream he was too terrified to set loose.

 

But it was time.

 

Jayce had chosen to release it to make room to start over. Re-get to know Viktor, as Mel had advised him to. 

 

Which must include supporting any romantic ventures Viktor was inclined to pursue. It had to involve sincerity, as well as being perceived at face value, and have it be true.

 

Even if those new ventures were entwined with people Jayce would have to encounter every other week for the rest of his life. 

 

Fucking Gio. What a dick.

 

Why he had agreed to join the date, he had absolutely no idea. 

 

Something had taken over all logic in the moment and ripped the decision from him. 

 

But there was no need to worry, considering Jayce suspected he would probably back out at the last minute, anyway. Leave those two to figure out their… thing.

 

Besides, maybe if Viktor fell in love with Gio, he'd stick around Piltover.

 

And that thought brought to an end any pervasive flashes and replaced them with a much-needed calm. 

 

Even if Jayce had never seen Viktor fall in love before. He wondered if he was at all capable, considering everything Viktor had shared about his struggles to find connection. 

 

That topic remained a complete mystery to him.

 

“Jayce,” a familiar voice called out from a distance. 

 

His body perked up, straightening in his seat with a shift toward the other end of the lab. “Yes?” 

 

No response. 

 

He waited.

 

“Yes?” Jayce asked again. 

 

Nada. 

 

Overtaken by curiosity, Jayce rose to his feet and crossed the lab with unsure steps. Once he rounded the corner and came into contact with Viktor, he stilled. 

 

His desks were cluttered with chaos.  

 

The titanium glove was facing sideways on the front desk, metal fingers poised and following their natural curvature. A multitude of wires were coming out of the hole Jayce had carved at its base, and directly connected to what appeared to be a logic board, which was in turn plugged into Viktor’s laptop.

 

Viktor was wearing green goggles and a haphazard bun atop his head as he soldered.

 

In contrast with his usual attire, Viktor was wearing a white t-shirt, accommodating to the warm weather that was slowly rising as the summer crept toward them. 

 

Jayce came to the understanding that he'd never spotted Viktor wearing short sleeves before. They'd parted ways before spring had come to an end.

 

Which was also profoundly disconcerting, to realise that they'd been around each other for almost the same amount of time as they once had, back in the day. 

 

And what two, vastly opposite experiences. 

 

The–

 

Jayce's thoughts came to a violent halt.

 

Viktor's arms.

 

They were covered in moles.

 

Moles Jayce had never seen before, of different shapes and sizes, sprinkling his limbs.

 

There was an inscrutable impulse to count them. How many were there?

 

Jayce shuddered to bring himself back to the mayhem before him, as if he'd physically shaken that profoundly unsolicited query out of his system.

 

Any other thoughts would be better than whatever short-circuit had just ocurred in his idiotic brain. 

 

As Jayce's study climbed through Viktor's frame, it became tickling to realize that he couldn't shake off the aesthetic of a mad scientist, short hair or otherwise.

 

Especially while wearing those safety goggles.

 

Jayce lifted a brow. “Did you call me, or am I going insane?” 

 

“I did,” Viktor replied with nonchalance. Once he finished, he securely set the tool down and raised the protective equipment from his eyes, giving way to two pinkish circles printed on his pale skin. “And the fact that you'd be concerned about going insane tells me that you don't know yourself well enough, still. Which is disappointing.” 

 

The corners of Jayce’s lips curved upward. “Hearing voices would be a shocking addition.” Leaning his shoulder on the column, Jayce crossed his arms over his chest, analysing the scattered documents, the long wires twisting around empty mugs and noodle cups, circling Lola, and invading Viktor's workspace. “What's up?” 

 

“I've programmed the heat sensors. I've attached them to the joints through the cavities you left, but I think we should consider cutting the rest of the parts down the middle in the future before considering assembly. Shoving the cables in there by instinctive precision alone was a nuisance, and it will lead to imperfection in the future.” 

 

“Damn,” Jayce let out. “You work fast.” 

 

Viktor’s head tilted, amber lasered in his direction through narrowed lids. “I think I should be taking offense to your tone.” Then, he rolled his chair to the side and clacked on his keyboard at an impressive speed. “But I think I'd prefer to test this out. Wouldn't you?” 

 

Jayce's breath left his lungs. 

 

His little pastime was ready for testing?  

 

“Here?” Jayce inquired with underlying panic. “Now?” 

 

Viktor shrugged. “I can inform you of the results, if you'd prefer to be elsewhere.” 

 

“No,” Jayce blurted out, pushing himself off the column. God, no. “I just meant… Is it safe?” 

 

“Of course not,” Viktor said conventionally, clicking his mouse and keeping his focus on whatever was displayed on his screen. 

 

Jayce took a step forward, eyes swiftly flickering between the titanium hand, Viktor’s busy fingers, and his flushed face. “Shouldn't we… reserve a lab?”

 

His glower was suddenly evident. “Do you want to be here for this or not?” 

 

“Yes, yes–” He inhaled sharply. “But I'm standing behind you.” 

 

Viktor seized his typing, eyebrows pulling together in unison above his drifting eyes, following Jayce's sidestepping to position himself properly.

 

“Are you using my body as a shield in case the experiment goes awry?” 

 

Since Jayce didn't have the right words to explain that his intention was the complete opposite, he adopted a mirthful tone to merely answer with, “If you could see how crazy this all looks, you included, you wouldn't blame me for it.” 

 

Viktor huffed through his nose, and with the press of another key, he extended his upward palm. A lighter rested in wait.

 

“Want to do the honors?” 

 

Jayce smiled as he reached for it. “Hell, yeah.” 

 

“Alright, on my count.” Jayce gripped the side of the desk as he leaned over Viktor’s side. He neared the lighter to the metal glove. 

 

“Closer,” Viktor murmured. 

 

Jayce obliged. 

 

“Three, two, one–” 

 

Jayce rolled the wheel to spark a flame. 

 

But there was no reaction in the glove. 

 

“Give it a moment,” Viktor advised. 

 

Both stared at the fire as if it were indebted to them. 

 

And then– there was a twitch.

 

No way.

 

Led by his gut, Jayce inched the flame close enough to lick the fingertips.

 

The digits instinctively curled inward and away from the heat. 

 

Jayce gasped, yanking his hand and snuffing it out, considering his brain had interpreted that he'd actively hurt someone.

 

Slowly, he turned his head to look at his former lab partner. 

 

Viktor’s eyes were sparkling over a lazy smile. 

 

Jayce’s stomach clenched at the rare sight. It was raw, and unique, and Viktor.

 

He felt the sentiment mirrored in his own expression.

 

“Do it again,” urged the crazy scientist beside him with a jerk of his chin.

 

Once more, Jayce rolled the spark into a flame. Without as much hesitation, he placed the heat directly under the awaiting fingers. 

 

With immediacy this time, they jerked away. 

 

“Oh, my God!” 

 

“There you fucking go.” 

 

“Holy shit, Viktor!” 

 

He cocked his head slightly back to meet Jayce’s excited gaze. There was nothing but untampered delight swimming in pure honey. 

 

Jayce found it profoundly infectious. 

 

And he was smiling, he was smiling, God, Viktor was smiling again . It was modest, but it was there, a palm away from Jayce’s face . And the reason for it was wholly indifferent; what mattered was that Viktor was allowing Jayce to perceive it.

 

Despite the sinking feeling that the walls were closing in around him, the joy in Jayce's chest combusted as if he'd won the lottery.

 

Fuck you, Gio. I get the real thing.

 

Viktor looked so much younger like this.

 

“Feels real, eh?” He said with cocky amusement.

 

“I can't believe it,” Jayce breathed. 

 

He wasn't merely referring to the successful experiment. 

 

“We need to make a plan.” Jayce straightened, afraid to overwhelm Viktor with his closeness. He rounded the table with a new spring in his step, one that caused his knee to prickle in pain. Jayce ignored it. “We need to sit down and plan how we're going to do this, step by step.” He was pacing back and forth in front of Viktor’s table, hoping to spend some of that overflowing energy that had surged within. “We could talk this out, make a schedule, put it together. We could do this, actually do this , Viktor.” 

 

Viktor snorted, a discreet smile still in place. “You had doubts? That's two offenses in one afternoon, Dr. Talis.” 

 

He chuckled in surprise. “I– I honestly hadn't allowed myself to think that far ahead.” 

 

Viktor hummed. “Then, let's, shall we?” 

 

“Yes! But get out your nook– it's claustrophobic in there. And bring your pillows.” 

 

With blinding determination, Jayce strode toward their mutual desk. He leaned his torso over the surface, clasped each edge, and with brutish force, pulled.

 

The hiccuped screeches of the wooden legs scraping against the floor were deafening. The harsh sound echoed with his fed-up resolve.

 

He rotated the table so that instead of facing the window, it would be angled toward Viktor's chalkboard. Then, he grasped the abandoned chair and carefully shoved it toward his former friend, letting the momentum of his push guide it freely.

 

Viktor stilled at the grating noise, eyes agape with three big pillows nestled under his arm and against his chest, swiftly darting between the approaching chair and Jayce's stormed demeanor. 

 

Without another wasted second, he marched to his workspace, gripped the edge of his chalkboard with one hand, his chair with the other, and dragged the furniture behind him all the way across the lab. 

 

He released his seat near the mutual desk and positioned his chalkboard next to Viktor's. 

 

Side by side. 

 

To finish, he procured his trash can once more and repeated the same process he had the night they'd shared their projects: he turned it upside down and abandoned it with a loud clank before Viktor, who'd already taken a seat.

 

He watched Jayce with googled eyes.

 

“You're not moving to this side of the lab, are you?” Viktor demanded to know.

 

Jayce froze mid-step. 

 

Something inside him crumbled in pain at the evident repugnance in his repudiation.

 

It was a wave that brought him instantly back to that haunting sensation Jayce had managed to park only recently.

 

You're so fucking pathetic.

 

Pathetic for being hopeful. Pathetic for wanting a closeness he hadn’t been offered. Pathetic for forgetting that even if Viktor might smile, it was not because of Jayce, but despite him. 

 

Each sentiment crashed over him like a bucket of freezing water.

 

Putting up with me is just collateral damage, Jayce had once hypothesised aloud, in one of his attempts to better understand the person before him.

 

A feeling Viktor had confirmed.

 

Viktor wanted to work, to invest his interest in a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, as he'd once referenced.

 

How many times did Jayce have to be reminded that Viktor had no interest in anything related to him in the slightest?

 

Pathetic, as always. That he'd been so eager for proximity, waiting for years for a moment such as this, all the while Viktor found it so piercingly effortless to reject him. 

 

Over and over again.

 

Yet…

 

Yet.

 

Huh.

 

As Viktor's question reverberated in his mind, he blinked. Unlike any other time this had occurred, Jayce managed to press pause on his escalating spiral.

 

Even though that recognisable sliver of annoyance was present in the snarky tone, Jayce caught onto something he never had before. A slip he'd shoved to the side to make room for his hurt.

 

Instinctively, he took a step back.

 

There'd been an alarmed tremble in there. 

 

Hearing the question repeat in his consciousness with excruciating exactitude– it was undeniable.

 

And as Jayce stared at him– really stared, and allowed his gaze to roam over Viktor's figure, it became rather obvious, all of a sudden.

 

Viktor had lowered himself over one of the cushions, another propped against his back.

 

But the third was still positioned against his chest.

 

His cane, erect between his legs. 

 

They resembled degrees of separation between them, and Viktor seemed to be using whatever props at hand to assert them. 

 

His torso was slightly leaned forward, his brow raised, and his features schooled into a practiced, light semblance of casual vexation.

 

But the knuckles curled around his aid… they were white with an unchecked grip.

 

Jayce’s worries fizzled away and gave way to a new, shattering understanding.

 

Viktor was scared.

 

Jayce had never felt a bigger urge to face-palm. 

 

He had taken the brunt of every single shove until now and internalised it as a personal offense. Jayce had never had the foresight to zoom out during those exchanges. 

 

There's a reason he clams up. There's a reason he doesn't want to associate with you. 

 

God, he really ought to send Mel the biggest flower bouquet he could possibly find. 

 

Viktor, the man who would never willingly show weakness. Viktor, whom Jayce had already established, kept his walls impossibly high. 

 

Of course, any trepidation would come across as anger; of course, he would shield any and all raw vulnerabilities and turn them into manageable redirects, instead.

 

Because he didn't trust Jayce, as that legal document had so evidently transmitted. 

 

Jayce had been unconsciously visualising their interactions through a lens forged in a past dynamic, where Viktor had never shown any signs of anger. Jayce had absorbed it and never learned to interpret it because he hadn’t had any reason to, but–

 

That person died to me.

 

God, it was like all of the pieces were clicking together in Jayce’s brain at the speed of light, like an obliterating domino effect. 

 

How could he expect vulnerability from Viktor if he perceived Jayce as a stranger? 

 

When in this godforsaken earth had Viktor ever disclosed any vulnerable part of himself to a stranger?  

 

Viktor had been fucking telling him and Jayce had not been listening, at all. 

 

But…

 

Scared? 

 

It was so unlike Viktor. 

 

For all Jayce knew about him, he'd always considered him to be the one person who could bring the angel of death to their knees, if he felt so inclined. Who could make anyone quiver with nothing but a well-placed sentence.

 

And that person was fearful of Jayce? Of all people?!

 

Why?!

 

Jayce would never do anything to consciously harm him, hadn't he proven that again and again? 

 

Was it to do with Blowie? The operation? 

 

Jayce could understand how violent waking up to a changed body might feel, especially when Viktor had been adamant about not wanting to feel any pain. But wasn't that pain kind of gone, now? Wasn't the fact that Viktor was no longer, at present time, imminently terminal something to be happy about?

 

God, and beyond that, couldn't Viktor offer Jayce an ounce of the benefit of a doubt about his intentions?! 

 

And– 

 

Jayce caught onto the thought pattern, insistent on making the whole thing about himself again. 

 

Goddammit.

 

Why was Jayce like this? So eager to defend his choices by minimising someone else's? 

 

In all earnestness, what did his intentions have to do with any of it, really?

 

Viktor wasn’t even aware of his intentions. Had Jayce been mechanically expecting him to guess them, based on his all-consuming belief that Viktor knew him better than anyone else alive in this world? 

 

And despite being on a path to relearn who Viktor was today, there were parts of his essence that Jayce remained certain about.

 

For there to be even a sliver of fear in this unyielding person before him…

 

There had to be an excruciatingly valid cause. Jayce thought of the glimpse he’d sighted of that mountain of anguish Viktor kept locked away.

 

Was Jayce to blame for a lot of it, and he hadn't fully realised just how much? 

 

He hadn't known he could affect someone in such a way. Especially when all Jayce had meant was… to help. 

 

Viktor had mentioned those wounds, he'd shared his postponement of them for over eight years, had expressed the existence of a vault where they'd been cast away to remain untouched.

 

Jayce had even been preparing for Viktor's pain to burst out of him at any given moment.

 

It just hadn't fully clicked until now that he might be the major source of it. Not just the selling of Blowie, or the surgery, or Viktor's potential misunderstanding of those events.

 

But Jayce himself.

 

Because otherwise, he couldn't understand why Viktor would ever feel apprehensive around him. Or his proximity. 

 

Jayce had assumed Viktor's distancing had been due to a fury over his actions, not because he was scared of him. 

 

Jayce had a flashback of Viktor at the hospital, of the look of terror he'd permitted Jayce to witness once. 

 

How those panicked eyes had slowly soothed the moment Jayce was present.

 

And now, Viktor's reaction to his company was a complete antithesis to that.

 

The sheer thought that that version of Viktor was silently imprisoned now, hidden from sight and potentially thrashing inside that vault without release because of Jayce, as a person… 

 

Like when you went to his house, his consciousness freely shared.

 

Oh, God.

 

Jayce was going to have to analyse that entire interaction all over again. 

 

The fragmented pieces he'd been collecting over the months were starting to form a picture. 

 

And it did not look good.

 

“Jayce?” Viktor insisted, his irritation flaring. “What's wrong with you?” 

 

Ah, crap. 

 

As Jayce was thrusted back into the current moment, he came to the understanding that five seconds could have gone by as easily as ten minutes. Personally, he had no clue.

 

But he had been silently, relentlessly, gawping at Viktor.

 

“Hm?” 

 

Viktor gestured toward him, as if it were plain to see. “You've gone catatonic.” 

 

“Ah,” he voiced. And then, Jayce blurted the first thing that came into his head. “It's one of the many side effects of blatant stupidity.”

 

Shockingly, the shared sentiment sparked a glint of amusement in Viktor's regard. His smile turned upside down as he tried to conceal it. 

 

“I'd be curious to learn the rest.” 

 

Jayce's mouth tilted slightly upward. “I wouldn't know. They show up unannounced.” 

 

Viktor cocked his head. “You'd think after suffering from such an ailment for over thirty years, you'd have a pretty good idea by now.” 

 

Jayce chuckled, thoughts of his enlightened cognizance chucked aside for further development at a more pertinent time. 

 

Otherwise, he was terrified he would fall to his knees where he stood. 

 

Then again, he could be wrong. Viktor was not easily spooked, let alone by other people.

 

By Jayce.

 

“That's what's brilliant about this disease,” Jayce informed, on a mission to shake that sinking feeling away. “Everyone becomes affected by its consequences except the bearer.” 

 

Viktor shook his head as he reclined his cane against the desk behind him. 

 

Good. That was good, right? That is, if his first theory were to be correct.

 

“And to answer your question,” Jayce added to further his peace of mind, “What makes you think I'd want to look at your face all day? You're showing your colors there, Dr. Jedlitzka. Insistent in your accusations regarding my arrogance, and yet yours always slips by unchecked. Why is that?” 

 

Viktor rolled his chair closer to the boards, nudging the trash can forward with his feet. 

 

“Because mine, people can tolerate,” he shot back with a faint smirk and an impish look in his eye. He set the pillow atop the can and raised his foot to rest on the plush surface. 

 

Jayce huffed as he neared the boards. “I’ll do a better job at proving you otherwise.” He bent his torso sideways to face Viktor anew. “Now, all of this can go, right?” He asked, referencing the scribbles and equations. 

 

“Yup. I have them noted down.” 

 

“Good.” 

 

And with that, Jayce wiped both of them clean. 

/// 

They started by debating the structural framework of what the body required.

 

There had been a fervent back-and-forth about the proportions of the entity. Jayce insisted that it should be big, for the larger the body, the more power it could wield. He was convinced that the thing could still aid in those landslides and cave-ins if he were to keep those aspects of the suit intact. 

 

Which was just another reminder that Jayce was personally set on a creation that could potentially help Zaun. 

 

Viktor made an effort to shut down any potential opinionated feelings he might have about that inclination. 

 

He, on the other hand, showed concern for the creature themselves. Viktor defended the argument that if they were to be massive, they would have an even harder time finding their sense of belonging. 

 

For every discussion they could not see eye to eye yet, they would write the topic on a list to revisit at a later time.

 

Viktor was surprised to find that, even though Jayce had nothing to gain from this project, he was pouring every aspect of himself into it as if he did. 

 

He didn't hold back on sharing his perspectives or contradicting Viktor's assumptions. Despite there being a clear, legally binding power imbalance, it was not present in the air between them. 

 

Jayce spoke of the project as if it were just as much his own. 

 

And Viktor was secretly thankful for it. With every incision, it was becoming clearer that he needed Jayce’s help. And his knowledge. 

 

And he offered them freely. 

 

He spoke of mobility, of integrating rotative shoulder plates and a neck structure that would allow the entity to whirl their head three hundred and sixty degrees, without the concern of mixing up any internal wires. There was a tenacious exhilaration about furnishing the entity with super-human capabilities.

 

Viktor didn't express it quite just yet, but he wasn't so sure. Would those existing qualities cage the being in a box? Would they feel obliged to use them just because they were implemented into their body?

 

Similar to how one would expect a phenomenal artist to turn that hobby into a profession. Just for the simple fact that they could.

 

It didn't sit right, and it was one of Viktor's unseen concerns. 

 

But Jayce continued his lively chatter, and Viktor was far too engrossed in it to feel the need to interrupt just to start a bracketed conversation.

 

In all honesty, Jayce spoke of many other aspects Viktor was in the dark about, like something called pneumatic actuators. Apparently, those could be used to facilitate motion, rotation of joints, as well as add force behind their movements, if the entity so decided. 

 

Puzzling terms such as that one were constantly thrown in conversation, and Viktor was noting down each one for later research.

 

Either way, Viktor would have to program the being to learn about their body on their own accord. As he listened to Jayce, he was simultaneously making mental notes as to how he would do just that. Of course, the most obvious approach was to code them to analyse each section and mechanical pattern until they mastered it, just as he had done in regards to the crystal. 

 

Mostly because Viktor truly had no idea of how to teach things he couldn't possibly understand without spending the next couple of months with his nose stuck in a wide variety of complex topics. 

 

Perhaps Jayce would help them once they were born, considering it was his area of expertise.

 

As the hours ticked by, they progressed to discuss the electrical wiring that Jayce referred to as the nervous system. 

 

It was far from Viktor's initial concept, but that was easily embraced. Jayce spoke of sensors that would create feedback loops to every joint, connected by a thread of fibers that would travel up the body and directly plug into the brain . He'd used air quotes on that, which led Viktor to assume that Jayce was referencing the CPU Viktor had already begun to design. 

 

At least this part of it made some sense to Viktor, and he followed without any effort. 

 

But even during shared subjects he didn’t fully master, he was immersed .

 

Hearing Jayce unabashedly speak of what came naturally to him was its own sort of drug. Even though these topics were profoundly intricate, he had a way about him that made them seem so effortless.

 

It was addicting to behold. 

 

Viktor realised he could have stayed silent for three days straight just to listen to his scientific rambles.

 

It was strangely validating to his younger self to find that this thorny human being had an infinitude of interesting things to bring up in conversation. Viktor was remembering once more why he'd found Talis so irresistible, once upon a time.

 

Behind that flawless etiquette and social prowess, there was a massive nerd.

 

The kind of which embraced an innate curiosity that was so supreme, Jayce would smoothly come up with explanations by dissecting his knowledge into digestible pieces, before the query was ever voiced.

 

The exactitude with which he could anticipate Viktor's inquiries was quite unsettling and, frankly, eerie.

 

But it added to that savage capacity to keep Viktor’s focus utterly hooked on every word, and trained to follow every thought process.

 

An idiotic genius. That's what Talis was, as much as Viktor despised admitting it– even to the confines of his mind, where no one else would hear. 

 

“What about the crystal?” Jayce asked at one point, sprawled on top of their common desk as he threw a paper ball above his head and caught it in his hand. 

 

It was a new sight, seeing Jayce lounge over furniture that was not intended for that purpose. 

 

But the essence was yet another snapshot of a life long past. 

 

“What about it?” 

 

Viktor had raised the pillow against his spine so he could let his head fall back. There wasn't a single part of his body making an effort to stay upright, and that alone had left him with nothing but profound relief. It was freeing to be able to occupy every inch of his focus on what he chose, and not what was demanded. 

 

“Where do you want it?” Grasped the ball, tossed it above him. Grasped it. Tossed it. Viktor wasn't watching, considering his eyes were closed, but hearing it provided a clear image, just the same. “Chest? Head?” Jayce’s voice came out with a soft smile, next. “Shoulders, knees, and toes, knees and toes?” 

 

Viktor weaponized his silence. 

 

After a moment, the sounds stopped.

 

“Did you fall asleep?” Jayce whispered. 

 

“No,” Viktor replied with ease. “I just wanted to let you stew in your nonsense.” 

 

There was a quiet, amused exhale before the tossing resumed. 

 

“Mean.” 

 

Viktor considered the question, fingers absent-mindedly finding the gaps between his brace to massage his aches. 

 

“I like what you said, about the entity having the crystal for a heart,” he admitted. 

 

“Chest it is, then.” 

 

After that, Jayce proceeded to suggest that there should be extra protection for both the brain (CPU) and the crystal. The former with the intent to keep it from frying during energy surges. The latter, just in case. 

 

Neither of them was an expert on the extent of what could occur if the crystal happened to be externally hit with an electric charge, or any sudden movements, for that matter.

 

Considering its volatile nature, perhaps ensuring its isolation by building an additional layer consisting of shock resistance should be a must to avoid potential explosions, or the death of the being themselves– as well as anybody around them.

 

By the time the sun began to set, Jayce had once more jumped to his feet and was pacing in front of the chalkboards, now brimming with new information. 

 

Jayce went on to discuss pressure sensors and how it was nearly impossible to surround the full structure with them. Consequently, there were parts of their body that the entity would not be able to feel. 

 

Still, he wondered if perhaps the thing–as Jayce liked to call them–could be equally informed if the electrical circuit, the mind, and the crystal managed to work in unison. 

 

Viktor assured him that this would be the case, since he had already planned to include programming that would detect any patterns of performance degradation, unexpected responses, or any general deviations from the functional baseline they would establish. 

 

It was a commonality in most A.I.s to be able to analyse hardware metrics in order to predict potential failures. This would be more of the same, and Jayce seemed satisfied with that response. 

 

They had to embrace their limitations. 

 

When Viktor pondered how in the hell Jayce was going to manage to find a way for titanium to feel , he got the most contagious smirk on his face. 

 

According to some searches he'd been doing during the past month, there was something called a piezoelectric sensor. Long story short, it was a device that measured changes in pressure, temperature, strain, or force by directly converting them into an electrical charge. If they were to count on the crystal to be a consistent energy source, any machine could interpret the different pressures and manage to differentiate between them. 

 

Which also removed the hassle of the heat sensors, since they would be directly included in the same appliance. 

 

Viktor inquired if they couldn't simply add thousands of those all over the titanium carcass. 

 

Jayce was quiet for a while, deep in thought, before he responded with, We could try.

 

Which was yet another aspect of his former friend that Viktor quite enjoyed. 

 

Before ever saying no, Jayce would always–and genuinely–stick to maybe. He wouldn't reject anything Viktor suggested before attempting it first, or at least taking some time to study the possibility in detail.

 

It was a kind of company Viktor could get easily drunk on. 

 

And, of course, that question then invited them into the next topic. The outer body. 

 

Jayce suggested a modular design. 

 

When Viktor asked him to elaborate, Jayce explained that the entire concept revolved around breaking the structure into independent sections. That way, if there was a need for repair, maintenance, modification, or even full replacement, it would be far more manageable. 

 

“It would also make it customizable if the being wanted to change their structure,” Viktor thought aloud, waiting for confirmation on his hypothesis. 

 

“That it would,” Jayce agreed, sauntering toward the sink. He glanced at Viktor and wiggled his brows. “The thing could change aesthetics more easily, if it wanted to. Everything we've discussed so far is rather masculine. I wonder if it'll care about that?” He lowered himself to open the mini-fridge, but paused mid-action. Cocked his head with a frown. “It? He? They/them?” 

 

Viktor snorted, lifting his head to meet the perplexed green already awaiting him. “Do you think they will tell us their pronouns once awake?” 

 

A breathy laugh came out of Jayce. “I guess?” 

 

And for the first time in what felt like forever, whether it was due to exhaustion after so many hours of discussion or due to living in a bubble of their ambition, they were both softly smiling at each other with the absurdity of it all. 

 

Viktor schooled his expression and snipped the thread by letting his head plop back onto the pillow. 

 

It was short-lived.

 

The moment the rubber door peeled open, Jayce gasped dramatically.

 

“What now?” Viktor murmured, sleep starting to seep into the corners of his body. 

 

“You didn't eat it!” 

 

Sighing with resignation, Viktor made the effort to lift his head anew. “Eat what?” 

 

Jayce removed three big Tupperware from the mini-fridge, holding them between his palms as if he'd found evidence of a crime scene. 

 

“The food I cooked for you!” 

 

Viktor's brows furrowed. “You cooked for me?” 

 

Jayce removed the lid and snapped his head sideways at once, nose scrunched and eyes pressed shut in an expression of pained disgust. 

 

“God, it's beyond bad.” He quickly covered it again. Yet that mischievous glint in his eye was back with a vengeance. “Although I'm sure the mold on this would offer the same nutritional components as what you force down your throat, anyway.” 

 

“I didn't know you'd cooked for me,” Viktor shared softly, his voice laced with genuine, guilted surprise. 

 

Jayce, for some incomprehensible reason, placed the containers back into the fridge. “Well, I promised you, didn't I?” 

 

“I assumed you'd forgotten. I definitely did. Why didn't you leave me a Post-it?” 

 

Jayce exhaled deeply, gaze still darting around for anything edible inside the cooler. 

 

“I was hoping you'd see it. I, um– I wanted to give you some space.” 

 

Oh. 

 

Right. 

 

Despite that rupture of their interactions having happened a mere month and a half ago, today it felt like it had been years. 

 

“Thank you for that,” Viktor murmured, unable to express the truth that itched on his tongue. “I'm sorry it went to waste.” 

 

“Don't be.” Jayce closed the mini-fridge and straightened to look at Viktor, a gentle tilt to his lips. 

 

And there truly was no resentment, or anger, or anything of the sort. Mere understanding. 

 

“But I count that promise unfulfilled if you didn't get to eat it,” he added with a poignant look. Then, his hand lifted to clutch his stomach. “I’m sorry to interrupt our congregation, but I’m starving.” 

 

Oh, yes. Viktor had completely forgotten about his cumbersome bodily needs, and at Jayce’s mention, he too sensed a grumble originating in his gut.

 

“What time is it?” 

 

Jayce dragged his feet to the common desk, where he'd left his phone. Double-tapped the screen.

 

“Oh, man. It's past midnight.” 

 

What!? 

 

Time had raced by, and Viktor hadn't even noticed. 

 

Which was slightly concerning, considering whose company he'd been in.

 

He's dangerous, that voice inside insisted. 

 

But it wasn't as loud anymore. It was as if the warning had been whispered from across the room. Distant, frail, and easily discarded. 

 

I am doing fine, he reassured soothingly to that frantic trace. I am not worried, everything is alright.

 

That's what you felt last time, too. 

 

I am in the process of creating something that will outlive me, Viktor responded, keeping his tenderness intact. And I'm having fun, for once. Trust me to remove myself, if necessary. You know I will. 

 

His mind was quiet for a moment before another whisper reported from further away. Okay. 

 

And just like that, that anxious kernel inside him disintegrated, scurrying back into hiding. A sense of deep calm washed over him, and Viktor let out a breath to settle further into it.

 

“You okay?” Jayce wondered, tone drenched in quiet.

 

Viktor fluttered his eyes open and noticed that Jayce was sitting on the table, hands resting at each of his sides and passively curled around the edge of the furniture, silently watching him.

 

“Yes,” he assured. “Just tired.” 

 

Jayce nodded, gaze dipping to his feet. “It's late, and it's been intense. We should probably call it a night.” 

 

Viktor kept his eyes pinned on that man.

 

“Probably.”

 

That response caused Jayce to raise his attention anew. Hazel eyes under an arched eyebrow observed Viktor as if he were a message meant to be decoded. 

 

Viktor leaned back his head, jokingly watching the ceiling. Keeping Jayce in his peripheral vision, he let his voice turn musically amused. “Or…” 

 

Jayce didn’t repress his smile as he bowed his head, repeating the word with intrigued determination. “Or.”

 

Viktor shrugged with indifference. “We could.” 

 

Jayce nodded again, feigned attention darting to the chalkboard as he mockingly lowered the corners of his lips in laid-back consideration. “It's an option.” 

 

A pause.

 

In a coincidental tandem, their amused regards flickered to one another. 

 

“We’ll need provisions,” Jayce negotiated.

 

“How about,” Viktor countered, “I order us some food while you make coffee.” 

 

A modest smile bloomed in Jayce’s mouth, one that clawed its way into the twinkle in his eyes.

 

“Does that mean you're paying?” 

 

Viktor was already tapping on his phone when, without thinking much of it, he let out, “Of course, haven't you heard?” He darted his focus back to Jayce, keeping his expression serene. “I'm filthy rich now.” 

 

Jayce’s following smile was a slow unfurling. It flourished and grew, the gap between his front teeth dawning to greet Viktor, and it didn't stop until that infectious joy erupted in the outward crinkles on each side of his eyes. 

 

And it wasn't until this exact moment that Viktor registered that Jayce wasn't in the habit of grinning anymore. 

 

At least, not in Viktor’s presence.

 

But he was doing so, now. 

 

Not the mask, not the socialite, not a constructed expression to please anyone around him, including Viktor.

 

Just… him. 

 

Images of an abandoned friendship fluttered in Viktor's mind, one after the other, like a brutal beating invisible to the naked eye. 

 

And for all the accumulated rage Viktor had for the man–and he had a lot of it–he was also, to his profound revelation, happy to see the gesture return.

 

Glad to see it hadn't gone fully extinct. 

 

“Deal,” Jayce replied automatically. 

 

As he hopped off the table, Viktor returned his focus to his phone, moderately disoriented by flashes of the past. 

 

It would seem those intrusive bastards had no intention to relent any time soon, regardless of the astronomical effort to attempt to separate the man from the scientist. 

 

But even now, Viktor felt calm. 

 

This was about innovation. And for that to be successful, it was better to get along than be at each other's throats all the time. As he'd cautiously decided when they'd gone to the smithy.

 

“Any particular cravings?” 

 

“No,” Jayce confessed as he moved toward the coffee maker. “I'll eat pretty much anything, right now.” 

 

Viktor hummed. “Would you mind some Zaunite cuisine? It's been far too long.” 

 

He smiled over his shoulder as he washed the used cup in the sink. “It would be a pleasure.” 

///

Viktor was joking about it. 

 

Viktor was joking about it.

 

After such a wonderful, mind-blowing day, just about when Jayce had thought it couldn't have gone any better, it did.  

 

Viktor couldn't be exponentially angry if he was making jokes regarding the subject, right? 

 

Jayce’s heart squeezed in his chest as he rinsed the mug of any residues. 

 

And they weren't even done yet.

 

God. 

 

If Jayce could’ve in this moment, he would have fleetingly traveled back in time to give the Jayce from six and a half years ago a tight hug. 

 

He'll come back, he'd tell himself. It will be hard, and confusing, and really painful. But then you will have a wondrous day that never ends, and you will speak in the same language again, and spend hours discussing a fascinating topic that you're both equally passionate about. And that devastation you're feeling now– it will have been worth it.  

If only to get to live through that beautiful day. 

I promise. 

 

“So what's next on the schedule?” Viktor asked, pulling Jayce from his thoughts and back into the present. 

 

He poured the coffee into the ceramic container. 

 

“That was the easy part,” he divulged, adding four spoons of sugar to the drink. “Now, it's time to think about the thing, themselves. I have a thousand questions itching to be answered.” 

 

He pivoted and carried the mug over to Viktor, swirling the dark liquid with a small spoon. In exchange for the coffee, Viktor offered his phone so Jayce could pick whatever food he desired. 

 

Viktor smirked over the rim of his cup as he softly blew on it. 

 

“I do enjoy being threatened with a good time.” 

Notes:

can you tell my autistic ass went on several rabbit holes to try to make sense how any of this could work? basically: heres a thing that exists and now im gonna make-up how it works :-)

also lmk if its getting repetitive, i seem to have maxed out every possible way of expressing myself and I can just snipsnip. I'm also desperately trying to make their reconnection somewhat healthy after that huge situation, but I am sorry it's dragging on because of it. It's not that I am avoiding them talking, it's that these characters have come alive in my brain and with vs deep distrust still of j, I genuinely don't think he's ready unless we'd want him to have a full mental breakdown (the scarring kind) and run away again. He deserves support, so we just gotta get him to a place where he will actually accept it.

I'm actively working on it!! Thanks for your patience.

THEY ARE HANGING OUT YAAAALL! still quite impersonal but we had to start somewhere, eh?

j you sly bastard (about keeping vs money intact)

I'm not sure who it was in the comments (brainy? refy?) that had a back-and-forth with me about getting these two to go on a double date with gio and (blank), AND THE SEED HAS BEEN PLANTED. Its going to be a DISASTER and I can't wait

v wearing the green goggles is eternally dear to me.

j is grinning around v again :') my heart

also j's realization that v was scared of him was also a surprise to me. it just kind of happened that way without intention but I kind of love that hes so persistent in his theories! "I would like to see you" but its actually a threat.

"the most powerful man in the room is potentially scared of ME? a sugarplum honeybunch?!" GOD J YOU SLICED HIM OPEN HOW CAN YOU BE SMART AND NOT SMART ALL IN ONE. people blinded by their good intentions is, at times, a very very big pet peeve

Vs moles are like victorian ankles. But in js defense, I also eagerly count my friends' moles 😌 poor man, he is so confused

Also find it sort of funny that vs trauma is becoming it's own character in the narrative, where he's having genuine conversations with it haha

I hope you have an amazing (however long until we see each other). Take care!!

As always, any feedback and/or overall opinion is not only welcome, but deeply motivating and appreciated <3 truly

tooodalooooo!

Chapter 32: That just gave me a deja vu.

Notes:

TW IN ENDNOTES

hello beautiful monarchs! hope everyone is doing alright and surviving this heeeeeeeeat! and hope everyone enjoyed pride month, happy belated my gays

this is a looooooong one yall, TERRIBLE SCIENCE FROM HERE TO ALWAYS

Also!!! Asking the commenters who don't want to be acknowledged or replied to to include THREEE yellow hearts (💛💛💛) instead because I realised I get confused with one only (sorry if I misinterpreted it to anyone who added a yellow heart 😩😩😩😩)

happy jayvik!

“What is that?” Jayce asked over Viktor's shoulder, inspecting the contents of the delivery bag he'd just handed over with their dinner. 

 

“I thought you'd enjoy some Zaunite curry. It's quite flavorful. Although a little spicy.” 

 

Turns out, Jayce had stared at the list of possible dishes in Viktor's phone and become instantly overwhelmed. Between not knowing what he was looking at and the twisting hunger, he'd just entered a state of confused paralysis that only deepened the sharp pains in his stomach. Viktor, thankfully, had caught on and done Jayce the kindness of ordering for him. 

 

Viktor lifted the container over his shoulder, box draped with a napkin under a plastic fork.

 

Jayce accepted them happily. 

 

“No, I meant,” he gestured with his chin to the other receptacle. “That." Jayce’s nostrils flared. “It smells… Confusing.” 

 

The corner of Viktor's mouth kicked up. “It's fish stew.” He grabbed his own container and then pulled out a bottle. “And shimmerwine.” 

 

“Shimmerwine?” Jayce repeated, brows drawn together. “Never heard of it.” 

 

Viktor left the bottle beside the foot of his chair, glass softly clinking on the floor. “One of Zaun's best-kept secrets. Considering we are about to go into profoundly subjective matters, I thought we could use the help.”

 

Jayce huffed, eyes still attempting to decipher Viktor's food. He couldn't quite tell whether he enjoyed the scent or not, so he was stuck quietly inhaling the air for answers. “You won't hear me complaining.” 

 

Viktor made the move to open his plastic case, but then paused. Awkwardly, he glanced to the side, keeping his eyes from meeting Jayce but still speaking in his direction. “I'd recommend you move away.” 

 

Jayce grimaced slightly, now aware that he'd been standing behind Viktor like a human-shaped pole, firmly planted to the ground. 

 

Moving to his chair, Jayce propped his feet up against their common desk, the back of the seat reclining with his weight. No time was wasted before he peeled the lid off his box and dug in. 

 

A disarray of flavours and textures hit him all at once: it was warm, earthy, with an interlacing mixture of savory and sweet. The chicken was tender, and Jayce wasted no time breaking the bread on the side into manageable pieces, drenching them mercilessly, and gulping them down.

 

A soft moan left both their lips simultaneously. 

 

“Let's not forget to eat again,” Jayce pleaded, voice muffled by the grub swirling inside his mouth. 

 

Viktor, with rounded cheeks and his eyes rolled back, responded with, “No promises.” 

 

The sight bled a warmth into Jayce's chest. 

 

He should learn how to cook that stew.

 

“So,” Jayce continued as he dipped more of that delicious crust into the reddish sauce. “Shall we start with the hardest question of them all?” 

 

Even while engrossed in his meal, Viktor had always been a master in the art of multitasking.

 

“Hit me.” 

 

Jayce crossed his ankles. “What constitutes a soul?” 

 

Viktor's brows climbed. “Eesh.”

 

“I did warn you,” Jayce said with a shoft chuckle, spearing four pieces of chicken at once. 

 

Viktor chewed thoughtfully. “Would you have a preference between Plato, Aristotle, or Socrates? I think I can summon some introductory ideas for each.”

 

A hushed startle winked within, causing Jayce to lift his focus.

 

He shouldn't have been surprised– only the almighty knew the breadth of knowledge swimming around in that thick skull, patiently waiting to be plucked out. 

 

“None,” Jayce confessed, taking another busy bite. “I prefer to hear what you think.” 

 

Viktor gulped down his mouthful, brows fleetingly twitching upward. “Oh.” 

 

There was no obvious prompt for the question that followed, but it slipped out of Jayce all the same. “Would you like some bread with that?” 

 

Viktor’s gaze dipped down to his meal. Back to Jayce. “Do you have to spare?” 

 

Without a second thought, Jayce tore half of what he had left and swung his arm in warning. His former partner nodded. Jayce flicked his wrist, letting the bread arch through the air. 

 

Viktor's forearm shot up, and the sneaky bastard caught it one-handed.

 

It was profoundly satisfactory.

 

He dropped it into his stew and dunked it with his fork. “I'm not entirely sure. I'd say it's something unique. Like personality, purpose, and unashamed desire, all,” Viktor drew a circular motion with his forefinger as he spoke through his food, ”merging and unmerging between one another over time to give way to a force that is intrinsically impossible to duplicate.” 

 

Jayce forced himself to reboot his brain. 

 

Again, he should have expected that kind of immediate response, after all of those months in Viktor's proxemics when he was younger. And after their interactions at his apartment, regardless of the difficult circumstances between them. 

 

Viktor was nothing if not consistent. 

 

Yet, it still rattled Jayce how he could come up with a well-thought-out reply to a fundamentally complicated question before Jayce could count to ten. 

 

Would Jayce ever stop being in awe of it? 

 

He fought to preserve his outwardly serene expression, nodding along. Jayce did not want to alert Viktor of the perturbing fact that, if his brain were a pool, Jayce would be regrettably tempted to plunge headfirst and skinny-dip in it in the hopes that his body could soak up some of its contents.

 

“Do you think there's a choice to any of those components?” 

 

“Eeh,” Viktor said in a higher pitch, faintly shaking his head from side to side. “Yes and no.” 

 

Jayce gestured for Viktor to continue, shoving the last stacked-up pieces of his dinner inside his mouth.  

 

Viktor's focus remained fixed on his utensils, poking around his container with something to say. Jayce did not have to wait long for his clarification. 

 

“I think you can carve yourself into whatever shape you choose, but the wood from which you do is inherent.” 

 

Jayce mulled over his analysis, tucking away his intrigue over the infinite insight seemingly drenching Viktor’s psyche.

 

Why was it that Jayce could only say such things while he was high out of his mind, while Viktor only needed his will to unravel his consciousness? 

 

Deep down, Jayce was deeply envious of it.

 

And most importantly– he could never tell him. 

 

Jayce had the suspicion that Viktor's unimpressed reaction would essentially piss him off. 

 

Even so, he couldn't help his curiosity. “Do you think most people are aware of that?” 

 

Surprisingly, Viktor paused playing with his food, and a small smirk dawned on his lips. “Careful now. That question will lead me to shit on capitalism, and we both know once we go down that road, we don't tend to stop.” 

 

A tender laugh broke out of Jayce. “Come on, humor me,” he requested, setting his already empty container aside on the desk and retreating once more. His fingers interlaced over his swollen stomach. “A summarised answer and I'll get us back on track.” 

 

Viktor masticated with leisure and only responded once he swallowed his food. “I think we're all too busy and traumatised by our direct environment to have the serenity necessary to know how to listen. Too busy being the right kind of important, too busy being the right kind of interesting, too busy being the right weight of the season, too busy getting the right kind of useless job, too busy doing that job, too busy fighting to earn a roof over our heads, too busy pursuing the right kind of roof, too busy internalising fleeting trends, too busy not staying behind, too busy setting fire to that wood because we're taught it's a distraction from the fake purpose this wretched system forces us into. You must set your sense of self ablaze if you want to belong, and isn't that what we all want? True identity can't be brought to the surface when we're too preoccupied hunting for the rewards more freely offered for its assassination.” 

 

Viktor continued to chew nonchalantly. As if nothing.

 

Jayce was dumbfoundedly staring at his former friend, chest sinking with an ache he hadn't predicted.

 

It was especially moving because, indirectly, Jayce felt seen.

 

The torture of having to put on the mask to become the Man of Progress had led him down a road where there had been no room left for a new sense of self to flourish. And the mountain of responsibilities placed on his lap overnight had utterly suffocated any inclination to find one.

 

Especially after its complete decimation.

 

Because even if that shared event hadn't taken place, after Jayce's forceful experience being a participant in that kind of circus, he didn't have to imagine what Viktor was trying to convey. 

 

He knew, firsthand. 

 

A pointless job, to sell a pointless product, to satisfy pointless goals, and on and on it went. All of it, soulfully pointless.

 

Keep your beard shaved. Keep your hair short. Wear Piltovian colors. Try to set a new trend every month. Make a video for social media every other day. Smile, smile, smile. Don't share your opinion on politics. Don't speak of anything controversial. Keep it diplomatic, keep it likeable, keep it cool. People want to see you, not hear you. Go to the gym at least four times a week. Your image reflects ours, and that's the real product here. 

 

They hadn't wanted Jayce for his ideas. 

 

They'd wanted him for his marketable looks. And his charisma, as they'd so often called it.

 

And Jayce had never met anyone who hadn't openly expressed how fortunate he was for it. 

 

As if his position had been something to look up to, or desire, when there was no real purpose behind it beyond bartering a façade.

 

The exhaustion of that contract and everything surrounding it had further broken something in Jayce. 

 

Even if he'd had the desire to search for himself anew during those years, he wouldn't have had any spare energy to try. Not in the slightest. 

 

And yet, it was–according to societal standards–the most successful he'd ever been. 

 

Which only made his stomach churn, considering he'd been relentlessly miserable.

 

“Earth to Talis?” Viktor inquired with slim amusement. 

 

Jayce shook his head and scoffed. “I think I'm gonna need some of that wine.” 

 

“By all means.” 

 

Jayce pushed himself off the desk and rolled his chair toward Viktor.

 

“Drink straight so we don't have to wash up,” Viktor said as he offered the bottle. “Also, since you're here, could you leave this on the table for me?” 

 

Jayce plucked the plastic box from his hands, half the contents intact. “Done?” 

 

“Mhm.” 

 

Jayce eyed it suspiciously. “Do you mind if I take a bite?” 

 

“Uh–” The question caught Viktor off guard, considering what flickered in his regard before he efficiently wiped it off. “Sure.” 

 

So much for not minimising one's true nature– it seemed Viktor was constantly doing so in Jayce's presence.

 

“You take this, then.” 

 

Viktor accepted the wine, and by the time Jayce wheeled himself back to his spot, it had returned to its forgotten spot on the floor. 

 

Considering they would eventually drink from the same bottle, any concern for cross-contamination went out the window.

 

Jayce picked up Viktor’s fork, stabbed a piece of fish, and brought it under his nose. 

 

“What does it smell like, to you?” Viktor inquired.

 

Jayce made a face. “Like some sort of rotten deliciousness.” 

 

A sharp breath shot out of his nose. “I can see how that would be conflicting.” 

 

Hesitant, Jayce deposited it atop his tongue with mild concern. “You?” 

 

Viktor did not shy away from watching him intently, plainly gauging for a reaction. “Comfort.”

 

Jayce munched slowly.

 

Despite the taint of bitterness, it was quite flavoursome. The texture was soft, yet not mushy. The different spices melted and caused his mouth to water, which led to the food going down rather effortlessly. 

 

No bones in sight.

 

“Comfort as in, Zaun?” He queried as he brought a new piece to his lips. 

 

Viktor was silent for long enough to invite Jayce to search for an answer in his features. 

 

There was a newfound despondency in them. 

 

“I reckon my mother used to cook it. Before she, eh–” Viktor’s lips tightened. ”Before.” 

 

Oh. 

 

Before she killed herself, Jayce wanted to finish for him. 

 

I remember, he was desperate to say. I remember your life, Viktor.

 

Viktor had never uttered the words. But Jayce had once read between the lines.

 

Even so, he didn't want to rattle the canoe they were both precariously–and very unexpectedly–standing on.

 

“I didn't know you had any memories of her,” he offered lightly, instead. 

 

“This is not a memory,” Viktor corrected, his gaze unfocused over his elevated limb. “It's a suspicion.” 

 

Jayce let a sliver of optimism slither into his tone, addressing Viktor as he would any other person who'd shared such a sentiment. “Do you have any?” 

 

Viktor exhaled, fingers outstretched to knead a particular spot on his knee. “Just one.”

 

In a blink, harshened honeyed eyes lashed upward, slitted with deep skepticism. His deep voice turned sharply cold. “Why do you ask?” 

 

Ah, shit, shit, shit–

 

“Just fulfilling the role of the impertinent, nosy guy you so thoughtfully bestowed upon me.” Jayce pointed his fork down at Viktor's dinner. “This is far better than I imagined, by the way. I have no idea what I was expecting, but it wasn't that.” 

 

Viktor's eyes were still narrowed, and Jayce's heart was beating furiously inside his chest. 

 

Please, tell me I didn't fuck up. Please, please–

 

Jayce tried to keep his tone casual, almost disinterested, despite the fervent captivation currently being snuffed out in a fright.

 

“Should I put the leftovers in the fridge?”

 

“No,” Viktor muttered. “I'm done with it, you can eat the rest.” 

 

Jayce allowed himself to smile, hoping it would soothe Viktor's clear discomfort. Without any further reticence, Jayce moved to finish what was left of the fish stew.

 

“Okay, so going back to our previous conversation,” he reminded as he chewed, “the question to follow would be… What would you want to be inherent, then? In the creature?” 

 

The pressure Viktor was applying to his leg had become visibly punitive. 

 

“Maybe you should remove your brace?” Jayce wondered in a low tone. “Since we might be here a while, still.” 

 

Viktor grunted in acknowledgement. After a tense pause, his digits lifted toward the buckles at the top of his thigh. 

 

“Kindness," he said roughly, loosening a metal buckle.  "Curiosity." Another. "Softness.” One by one, he undid each strap. “To answer your question.” 

 

Jayce arched one of his eyebrows, following Viktor's steer of the conversation. 

 

“But you wouldn't want to give it a purpose.” 

 

“No,” Viktor admitted, shoulders visibly untensing with each freed clasp. “That's something I believe they should decide for themselves.” 

 

Jayce chomped as he considered. Finally, he voiced a question he'd had over a month ago and kept to himself. “Wouldn't inherent features predetermine a large chunk of their sense of self? 

 

“In part,” Viktor agreed, releasing his limb from confinement. Carefully, he laid his brace on the floor beside his chair. 

 

If his parting lips were of any indication, Jayce should have suggested he remove his aid hours ago. 

 

“But if we're bringing something to life,” Viktor went on, reclining once more onto his cushion. “I don't want to risk the chance of it causing further harm. The consequences of their livelihood are ours to bear, for life.” 

 

Jayce affirmed with his head, sliding another piece of fish across the container to soak it in sauce. “So, we would be giving it a blueprint and offering it as a guide for their own development.” 

 

The corners of Viktor’s lips twitched. “Something like that.” 

 

It was quiet as Jayce came to the conclusion that he, himself, had had such a blueprint, as well. He'd been lucky with his ma, with the values she had instilled in him from the moment he’d been born. 

 

Jayce would have felt perpetually astray without that solid truth living inside him– of who he was at his core, of where he came from, of what kind of impact to seek out with every interaction, regardless of who he was interacting with. 

 

His ma had been the perfect guide for a worthwhile existence.

 

Yes, Jayce had had his identity ripped and flipped over more times than he could count. Unawarely obliterated, only to be obligated to attempt to reforge it in a room with no clear way out. 

 

But maybe that was the entire purpose of living a life– to make sense of what seemed to be until it didn't make sense anymore, and then try again. 

 

And to have had the privilege to lean on a pre-existing manual… That faint flicker of light within himself had been unyielding to any swallowing darkness. 

 

And those three words Viktor had spoken were, coincidentally, very much a part of that lifeline. 

 

“What do you think?” Viktor wondered, his voice low and cautiously curious. 

 

Jayce’s eyes lifted from the dinner he'd been locked into, now just another empty box before him. “I think it's a great idea.” 

 

Remarkably, Viktor’s voice came out soft. “Yeah?” 

 

It coaxed a genuine smile out of Jayce. “Yeah.” 

 

He rose to his feet, discarding the empty food cartons in a faraway trash can. The lingering scent would be a constant, unpleasant distraction. He turned on the coffee machine and let it brew. In the meantime, he returned to crack open the window beside their mutual desk. 

 

“You made me think of my ma,” he confessed.

 

The curve to Viktor’s mouth was gentle. “She's part of the reason I feel this way, if I’m honest.” 

 

Jayce stilled. Blinked. Pivoted to face him. “Oh?” 

 

Viktor was observing his upturned palms. “I don't think I've ever met someone so…” His throat bobbed. 

 

Jayce slowly leaned against the desk, waiting, illogically hopeful. There was a painful ache inside that was silently pleading, selfishly desperate to reach for the words inside Viktor’s mouth.

 

When Viktor’s eyes rose to meet him, they shone ever so slightly with an innocent adoration. “She just never wanted anything in return, did she?” His dejected lips kept their upward curve intact. “No matter the circumstances, that part of herself was almost ferally unmoving. Impossible to corrupt. And a radical act of self-defiance, in a world where those qualities might earn her nothing.” 

 

Something inside Jayce's chest was pulled taut, throat closing in alongside it.

 

“She was the first adult I met who treated me as an equal from the get-go. As if I had value for my presence alone. And it… made a difference, I think.” Viktor exhaled slowly, working fingers softened once more. “I'd like to pass that on.”

 

“I had no idea,” Jayce found himself uttering.

 

His honeyed gaze drifted back to Jayce, earnest in its accommodation. 

 

“I meant what I said,” Viktor murmured. “At the cemetery.” 

 

You always were, and will continue to be, alive in my thoughts of you.

 

The sentiment had surrounded Jayce with an embrace that no physical touch could have ever compared to. Mostly because he knew how joyous his ma would have been to learn that Viktor, too, had been intrinsically changed because of her.

 

“Yeah,” Jayre replied with the same quietude. “Thank you. For saying what you did. For that entire day, really. There are not enough words to… express…” His voice faded. 

 

Between the terror of stepping into uncharted territory again and the genuine lack of self-expression, Jayce found himself at a loss for words. 

 

“Is it arduous… talking about her?” 

 

Jayce kept his shock at the personal question out of his expression. 

 

All of those years behind a mask had taught him a thing or two. It was far harder to keep up in front of Viktor, though, and the reason for that continued to elude him.

 

The edges had tentatively softened around them, and Jayce wanted to protect that change as much as he possibly could. At present, nothing irked him more than unknowingly forcing Viktor to isolate himself from Jayce again. 

 

Despite what the last months might suggest, there was a particular gentleness to Viktor, always had been. In the way he chose to use his voice, in the way he'd preferred to request for connection, in the way he thought of those he deemed worthy of his care. In his words, always perfectly tailored to the moment.

 

That day with his ma had been a flawless reflection of it. 

 

And yes, Jayce was also fiercely aware of how Viktor’s words could burn him to a crisp. But this was yet another part of Viktor’s essence Jayce refused to believe was not still as true as it had once been.

 

After all, he’d been a witness to it more than once since.

 

Not only with his ma, but during the storm, at the lab. During the house arrest, when he'd insisted that Jayce care for himself, as well. Or when– 

 

Come here.

 

He was a soul determined to seek out the world through tenderness, despite whatever atrocities he'd been shoved into surviving. 

 

It was one of the most beautiful things about him.

 

God, how Jayce had missed it. Missed him. There was no concealing that truth from himself, either.

 

A butcher's knife had been–and was, still–deeply plunged between Jayce's lungs for causing that soft version of Viktor to constantly scurry out of sight while in his vicinity. 

 

Similarly to his ma, Viktor radically defied what was expected of a man. 

 

In truth, he wasn't a brute, or painfully indifferent, or surrounded by edges slicing enough to draw blood. Not once upon a time, at least.

 

And because of it, he had been the best embodiment of that concept Jayce had ever come across, one he'd unconsciously emulated in his youth.

 

Even though Jayce was still unsure of whether or not Viktor identified as a man. 

 

That was a question he hoped he would get to voice, at one point or another. If Viktor found him deserving of a response.

 

But Jayce had his suspicions by observation alone. Not due to his attire, but something else entirely that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

 

Either way, it didn't really matter. Viktor was Viktor, and that definition made the most sense of all to Jayce.

 

There wasn't a single other human being out there that could ever be mistaken for him, because he simply was, one of a kind.

 

That defensive fierceness closeted his true nature, and anyone would be lucky to find themselves on the receiving end of it. 

 

As Jayce was now.

 

“Yes and no,” Jayce mimicked with a dejected smile, attempting to continue the conversation without showing the tempest of emotions swirling inside his sternum. “It's mostly relieving to hear someone talk about her. To learn that you saw what I saw.” 

 

Viktor made a gentle sound in his throat. “I wouldn't mind if you brought her up in conversation,” he revealed, his gaze transparently locked to Jayce’s. “I'm happy to talk about her.” 

 

Jayce’s throat squeezed to the point of pain, his emotions begging to combust into the open. 

 

Such a small gesture, yet so simultaneously vast. 

 

But he kept their dynamic intact, not wanting to break it by being too wanting. 

 

“It seems you both had that in common about each other,” he disclosed with some amusement. “She never stopped speaking highly of you– not once. It was quite annoying, actually.” 

 

Unhurriedly, Viktor’s smile widened. 

 

Which felt like basking directly under a shaft of moonlight. Soft, quiet, yet beautifully bright all the same.

 

“I'm gonna need you to be less happy about that,” Jayce pointed out in protest, even if the mirth in his voice betrayed his intent.

 

Viktor shrugged lightly. “She was a wise woman.” 

 

Jayce rubbed his eyes with his fingers, shaking his head disapprovingly. “I regret telling you anything. Let's get back to our project before I have an aneurysm at the sight of your joy over my suffering.” 

 

Jayce pushed himself off the table and made his way toward the sink.

 

“I'm sure there are other things far more hurtful than the truth,” Viktor called out, unaffected.

 

“I thought the truth was subjective,” Jayce rebuked as he neared the coffee machine, reminding Viktor of his argument.

 

“There's often an exception to the rule.”

 

Jayce poured two cups of coffee–both with unthinkable amounts of sugar–and strolled back. He paused next to Viktor’s seat, silently offering the drink. 

 

“Which is what, in this case?” 

 

Viktor looked up with an impish glint in his eye. “That I'm amazing, of course.” 

 

Jayce snorted and rolled his eyes dramatically. “Take your damned coffee.” 

 

“Oh. Thank you,” he said, elegant, bony fingers circling the mug and retrieving it from Jayce's grip. Then, Viktor furrowed his brows. “You made one for yourself?” 

 

Jayce approached his seat anew. “I get sleepy after meals. Might as well give it a try.” 

 

His jaw slackened. “Never thought I'd see the day.”

 

Jayce leaned on the edge, smirking as he brought the scent closer to his senses. “Ye’ of little faith.” 

 

Viktor gave him a look. “After all that bashing, you'd think my lack of faith was merely logic.” 

 

Jayce took a weary sip, and the moment the bitter horror laced his tongue, he scrunched his face in disgust. “Yeah, it's as terrible as I remember.” 

 

“It'll grow on you.” Following his remark, Viktor diverted his attention to the board. “Alright, where were we?” 

 

Keeping the mug in his grasp, Jayce decided to remain standing so as not to let his tiredness seep into his limbs. 

 

He approached the board, taking another rancid sip. 

 

After a quick analysis, he scratched his jaw and rotated to check in with Viktor. “So, we've decided that kindness, curiosity, and softness will be predetermined. For the rest, it'll be their choice to make. Should we break down what aspects to look out for in identity?” 

 

“Great.” 

 

Considering this was his area of the project, Viktor proactively took the lead. 

 

He proceeded to explain that it was important for the being to know how to recognise themselves: their unsought mental processes, their opinions regarding their direct environment, and to master distinguishing between original concepts and absorbed information.

 

In impressive detail, Viktor discussed the idea of abstract thought, of creativity, and inspiration. Of interpreting an undying kernel within oneself and knowing how to pursue it. 

 

For that, a self-modifying codebase was apparently imperative, so the thing would be directly incentivised to construct their own personality in due time. 

 

Which then led Viktor to absent-mindedly dive into something called a personality matrix, where the creature could record their memories as part of its foundation. 

 

According to him, that aspect would not be exclusive to memorable events, but opinions, attachments to other living beings and places– a web of their life, threaded into an infinite tapestry for them to access and shape themselves around. A mixture of their sustained learning, their lived experiences, and their choice.

 

And that last word was key to Viktor for many aspects of the entire project. There was an active, underlying persistence of its importance, regardless of the topic or approach.

 

No predermination, but the analysis of stimuli and the ability to follow individual preference. Viktor did not want the being to be abused, taken advantage of, or enslaved for a selfish benefit they wouldn't know how to reject, given their hypothetical good nature. 

 

Teaching it how to say no was (apparently) much more complex than it seemed, and still, Viktor was adamant about it. The pressing fear would constantly peek through whatever arguments his former lab partner presented, and Jayce nodded along to every one.

 

It was important to Viktor, ergo, it was important to Jayce.

 

At the echoing sentiment, Jayce had a mental hiccup. 

 

Former?

 

Viktor was no longer his former lab partner. 

 

He was his current lab partner. 

 

Given the flood of emotion that surged within as he quietly listened, Jayce made the prudent decision to swiftly tuck the information somewhere out of reach to process at a more appropriate time. 

 

And even though Jayce wasn't entirely sure what any of it could fully entail when considering future development, he still paid attention to every shared concept. 

 

Above anything else, he wanted to understand. And to be of actual help.

 

Hours went by, and the subject had morphed into a discussion about emotion. 

 

“How do you even describe a feeling to a program?” Jayce wondered, doodling on an unimportant sheet of paper left behind on their desk. 

 

For some reason, sketching always helped him retain his focus. 

 

Viktor had released his hair from the bun and was threading his fingers through it to untangle any wayward knots. 

 

“We'd have to break it down. First, we need to consider sensorial input– cameras behind the eyes, microphones over the side of their head, touch we've covered.” 

 

Jayce's eyes lit up. “We should definitely give them more than we have. I, for one, would love being able to see from the back of my head.” 

 

Viktor’s eyes roamed toward him, a lace of deviltry emanating from within. “So scared someone might jump you?” 

 

Jayce huffed. “I've had my fears over the last several months.” 

 

“Your downfall would have been justified,” Viktor affirmed with no ounce of doubt in sight. “Fine, I'll leave that to your discretion. Add as many cameras as you see fit.” 

 

Jayce looked up, lips involuntarily widening. “Really?” 

 

Viktor stilled, waves of chocolate brown and blonde tips interlaced between his digits. He studied Jayce's expression for a beat.

 

“Your eagerness is disconcerting but, yes.” 

 

Jayce kept his retort to himself in fear that Viktor might change his mind and returned to his doodling. “Okay, so input first, and then what?” 

 

Viktor went on to explain that they could insert an analogous system, and the evaluation of that input would be what evoked feelings in the creature. Each stimulus could be attributed an internal value, which would then be processed with a variety of electrical pulses that would aid in discerning between emotions. 

 

Which, if Jayce was being honest, was fucking brilliant. 

 

However, in order to do that, the entity had to first understand their personal priorities (to assign such values), which circled back to its capacity to store memory and recall the repercussions that followed whichever event they wanted to prioritise.

 

Those charges would change the beings parameters, and Viktor did not hide his burning curiosity as to whether he could code each parameter to have a subsequent reaction. 

 

“Like, what?” 

 

“Like… If they sense someone might be in danger, they could have access to an immediate activation or a defensive protocol.” 

 

“That… would be so cool,” Jayce breathed. Then, an involuntary broad smile took over. “Are you kidding me?!” 

 

Viktor's gaze softened. “It was a silly example.” 

 

“Activate: Instant Kill,” Jayce said with a robotic voice. 

 

That gaze turned into a deadpan. “The only person I am programming them to feel comfortable murdering is you.” 

 

Laughter erupted out of Jayce, which tilted Viktor's lips upward. 

 

“I'm coming back to haunt you,” Jayce threatened, stabbing his pencil in Viktor's direction.

 

Viktor let out an exasperated breath, removing any loose strands and dropping them to the floor. “And you would be unbearable, too. I know it for a fact.” 

 

“Open drawers. Books marked on the wrong page. Lights turned on mid-sleep. I’d tread carefully if I were you,” Jayce warned, fleeing his attention back to his doodle. “But wouldn’t you want them to be prepared?” 

 

Viktor snorted. “Prepared for what? Are you expecting them to go into battle?” 

 

“God, no,” Jayce corrected, his palms dampening. “But… Maybe some self-defense could be helpful. Just in case.” 

 

As he so often did, Viktor pretended he hadn't said anything at all. 

 

Which only strengthened his smile. 

 

Viktor continued by explaining classical conditioning and how actions could be naturally reinforced once it was alive. For instance, associating sensations (or a variety of electrical impulses, in this case) with people, or behaviours with different circumstances. 

 

If those feelings were to be functionally real, then they would be interpreted as real by both the entity and their surroundings. 

 

As the night unfolded, each theory was shared with an increasing ravenous enthusiasm, one that they weaved together to create entirely new ideas. 

 

However, every now and then, Jayce slithered into conversation his insistence on the benefits of a grand structural size to the carcass. Its favor bled into the majority of the other components, especially when considering the electrical circuit they'd have to implement. 

 

Viktor now only responded with a glare to those suggestions.

 

But it wasn't worrisome anymore. It was swiftly becoming the most natural of landscapes.

 

Their mutually difficult questions carried on elevating each other's knowledge, sharpening their understanding of each other, inviting them closer to that common goal, intertwining their connection, and bringing them higher and higher–

 

For the second time, Jayce was certain they were equals. 

 

Equals in a way Jayce had never wholly relived since the last time he'd worked alongside Viktor. 

 

That click between them went beyond easy conversation, beyond good company, beyond interesting talking points, beyond, beyond. 

 

Beyond. 

 

Jayce's soul felt as though it were reverberating with excitement between each of his ribs, pressing up into his throat with exhilarated anticipation. For years, he'd dragged it behind him like a half-dead thing, in a forceful show of continuing onward. But now… 

 

Now, it weightlessly floated inside him, instead. Endlessly intrigued, eager for the future, joyful in its disbelief. 

 

It thrummed with an energy so bright, Jayce felt it pouring out of him, flooding every persevering hollowness and filling it with light.

 

Perhaps it wouldn't last forever. Perhaps it was only for this moment. 

 

But it was there.

 

The beam was blinding, and whatever residues of darkness remained within were squinting in its presence. The moment that uncontrollable luminescence fell upon them with a vibrating caress, they combusted into a distant memory. As if they had been composed of a pyrophoric substance that had, at long last, been exposed to oxygen.

 

It was a dazzling sight. A mesmerising sensation. A feeling too overwhelming, and too unnameable to make any sense of. 

 

But Jayce bore witness to every burst, quickly replaced by a breathtaking glow– like a firework display that only he was privy to. 

 

And Jayce recognised it.

 

It was himself. 

 

His true self. 

 

The realization punched the air clean out of his lungs.

 

“I need to use the facilities,” he exclaimed out of nowhere, a little louder than he’d intended.

 

Viktor froze, his mouth open mid-sentence, hand suspended in the air, mid-argument. 

 

Jayce didn't wait for confirmation. He stood so fast his chair collided with a cabinet somewhere behind him, and still he couldn't fathom looking back.

 

Chased by an erupting giant that would hold itself in place no longer, Jayce did his best to keep his expression blank to any potential wandering eyes as he strode to the Academy restroom. 

 

Of course, he crossed no one in the hall. 

 

Hot tears were already sliding down his cheeks when his shaky hands tried to lock the bathroom door behind him. His breathing had turned ragged, and once he finally heard the soft click , he was helpless to plunge his face into his awaiting hands. 

 

Jayce attempted to keep quiet as he unpreparedly sobbed, and sobbed and sobbed. 

 

A long time coming wound, ripping straight out into the open.

 

Strangled cries were scratching his throat as he made an effort to breathe through the gaps between his fingers. 

 

Occupied by everything that had occurred, Jayce hadn't noticed–

 

He'd missed himself.

 

It was as if years of nothingness were now violently demanding he pay an overdue emotional debt. 

 

Now was not the time, but Jayce could not stop any of it. 

 

The anguish of eight years without being around that remarkable human being, now waiting for him back in the lab. The grief of forgetting the parts of himself he'd once loved most. 

 

The discovery that they were still alive. 

 

Those sides of him, ones he'd mourned and thought to have gone extinct, were throbbing inside him, each beat a reminder of where he'd always belonged. In this feeling. This, this, this.

 

And then Jayce cried harder, because for some reason he couldn't even comprehend, he thought of his ma. 

 

Of their dialogue earlier in the night.

 

His breath hitched as the feelings that had been amputated in the name of his numbness detonated inside him. He pictured how her face would light up upon seeing him like this, this Jayce– the real Jayce. One only she would have been able to recognise with nothing but a passing glance. 

 

How much Jayce wanted to clutch her tightly between his arms, to tell her you were right, you were right, I was missing, and you saw right through me, you've always seen through me. 

 

His weeping deepened, thinking of how much he’d punished her for just that. 

 

For seeing the corpse Jayce had carried inside himself and called a life. 

 

I can feel again, ma, he cried. And you're not here to hold me. 

 

I haven't seen you in so long, why aren't you here? 

 

It's as if his child self had broken free from a confinement Jayce hadn't realised he'd been imprisoned in. A postponement that could only be accessed when Jayce embraced his essence, it seemed. Pure and feeling and beating.

 

For the first time in eight years.

 

I need you, ma. Every day, I need you. I have so much to tell you and I can't, I can't, I can't, he continued to sob into his palms.

 

It was like an unexpected clarity. Jayce had known all of this, but even so, he'd never admitted it to himself. 

 

It had been too harrowing to even conceive. 

 

And then he realised he was silently crying, with a likeness of mental hysteria, at ungodly hours in the morning, in an Academy bathroom stall. 

 

And for some reason, that broke a cracked laugh out of him. 

 

As if his mother had sent him the thought to pull him out of his mental stupor. 

 

Because beneath that suffering, there was profound, unfiltered relief.  

 

That the version of himself he thought had died was still here, still breathing as powerfully as it once had.

 

Jayce wiped his cheeks, trembling fingers brushing away the warm dampness over a fragile smile. 

 

Okay, okay, he chuckled. I'll stop the pity party. But you owe me for leaving me here with all of these lunatics. 

 

Jayce reached for a scrap of toilet paper and blew his nose. 

 

I'm trying to fix it, ma. Like you told me to, he sniffed, dabbing his nostrils. If you can send any help my way, I would deeply appreciate it, he huffed through his burning eyes. I won't give up unless he demands it of me. I promise. 

 

He threw the tissue into the toilet bowl and flushed it. Wish you were here, he croaked in his mind. Jayce neared the sink and rubbed soap on his hands. I think he might be everything that's right in this world. 

 

Jayce bowed at the waist, cupped his hands under the faucet, and washed his puffy features. Just like you were. 

 

Once done, he dried his face with a new paper towel. Then, he stared at himself in the mirror, Okay, how do I look? Presentable enough? 

 

There was the sentiment of a half-grimace and an unsure shrug in his mind. 

 

Jayce snickered. Well, it'll have to do. 

 

He made a move to leave the bathroom. I'll talk to you soon, ma. I love you, I love you, I love you.

 

When Jayce found his way back to the lab, the room was deadly quiet.

 

He stepped closer, peeking over Viktor's seat. 

 

His head was laid back, his eyes shut, and his breathing was steady. He had goosebumps all over his forearms. 

 

Quietly, Jayce went into his nook to retrieve the blanket he’d purchased for his former friend. 

 

Gently, he draped it over Viktor’s frame. 

 

As Jayce pulled back, a soft smirk was laced over Viktor’s lips. 

 

“Was it the curry?” He asked, his voice groggy with somnolence. 

 

Jayce blinked. 

 

“Yes,” he lied smoothly with a murmur. “Sleep.” 

 

Viktor hummed lowly. “I was afraid of that,” he slurred, already asleep. 

 

Jayce couldn't help the tug of his lips, taking in the person who'd unintentionally resuscitated Jayce's essence by the mere act of being.

 

The person who'd inadvertently guided him back to feel his mother's presence in conversation, despite her unavoidable crushing absence. 

 

The person who'd unwittingly reminded him who Jayce was always meant to be, all along.

 

Jayce approached the open window and pushed it closed.

 

He chugged the rest of that revolting coffee, now cold, and lowered himself onto the table, arms folded before him to cushion his head. 

 

Daylight was beginning to bring the color back into the world, and he decided to have a quick nap before they continued with their session. 

 

He didn't last one hour before he was wide awake. 

 

_ _ _ 

“Viktor.”

 

Viktor’s mind stirred, tugged to awareness by a familiar voice. 

 

“Viktor, Viktor, Viktor,” it urged. 

 

His eyes snapped open.

 

It took a moment for the world around him to sharpen into a sensical explanation. 

 

He was in the lab.

 

It was daytime. 

 

He was working on a new project.

 

Jayce Talis was calling him.

 

His lids drooped as Viktor groaned, arms stretching above his head. 

 

“What?” He inquired with visible annoyance.

 

“I have been compiling a list of all the possible names I think could fit the creature, so we can stop calling it the creature. You said you wanted to humanise it– well, that starts with us, right? Also, it would make it far easier in conversation, and we could use with easier right about now.” 

 

Jayce was bouncing up and down the board with endless energy, speaking at a velocity twice as swift than usual. 

 

The corner of Viktor’s mouth tilted up, despite the sluggishness in his brain.

 

He'd suppose this would be a natural consequence for someone who was unaccustomed to caffeine and who didn't usually have any need for it– considering he was wired first thing in the morning. 

 

Come to find out, Jayce experienced the consequences of coffee with some considerable delay. 

 

“I want to read each one to you. We're gonna rate them and remove one problem off the list, yes?” 

 

This couldn't wait? Viktor wanted to moan. 

 

Jayce stopped yapping and stared at Viktor’s deadpan. 

 

“What?” He queried after a moment. 

 

“You are so intrinsically, inconceivably, most detestably, annoying.” 

 

A broad smile flourished in his mouth.

 

“Pff,” he dismissed, flickering his hand as if that were old news. “Okay, first one– Rocko. Get it?” His eyes gleamed with childish mischief. “Because the original suit was made to manipulate rock?” 

 

That's when Viktor noticed that there was a fresh new cup of coffee by his right foot on the floor, steam luring him in. 

 

And a blueberry muffin on a plate. 

 

Viktor could get used to finding unannounced provisions popping up around him, anticipating his bodily needs. 

 

He hated to admit that Jayce’s innate attentiveness, as exasperating as it was, was also something Viktor was finding himself grateful for. 

 

With extreme leisure, he settled the plate on his lap– 

 

His brows scrunched.

 

Why was there a blanket on him? 

 

“Did you hear me?” Jayce insisted nervously. 

 

“Yes.” 

 

He peeled the paper lid off the pastry, took a small bite, and returned his focus to the electrified human being before him. 

 

“And?” 

 

Viktor gave him a pointed look. “It's horrendous.”

 

Jayce chuckled. “That's fine. What about Philip?” He pointed toward it on the board. “Get it? Because it will have feelings?” 

 

Was this man alright? 

 

Had Viktor broken him? 

 

“Oh, my,” was all that came out while he munched on his breakfast. 

 

“Why not?” Jayce moaned, breaking the image of the man to interlace the boy within. “It’s a cute name!” 

 

“Do you want the being to be some kind of human pretense of sophisticated abhorrence?” 

 

Jayce shook his head, stabbing that detestable finger, now amused, toward Viktor. “Just know that if it learns to have a stick up its ass, it will have learned it from you.” 

 

Viktor tightened his lips, considering they wanted to lift up his cheeks. “What other barbarities have you come up with? Backstories aside.” 

 

“Poggo.” 

 

“No.” 

 

“Jasper.”

 

“Fuck no.”

 

“Wallo.”

 

“Have you lost your mind?” 

 

“Supremus Prime.”

 

Viktor rubbed his eyes. “Isn’t that one from the kids' movie?” 

 

Jayce smirked something silly. “But improved.” 

 

Viktor decided to spare his comments entirely. “How about something unisex?” 

 

Jayce returned his focus to the board, fingers massaging his chin. “Atlas?” 

 

Viktor perked up. “That could be a fun play on words. Atlas, as in a book that contains a large quantity of information.” He counted with his fingers. “Atlas, as in the titan that carried the world on his back.” 

 

Jayce grimaced. “That feels like a bad omen.” 

 

Good to know Jayce was still superstitious. Viktor was momentarily brought back to an invention unexpectedly catching fire.

 

A panicked side to him dissolved the thought as it occurred.

 

“He was the God of strength and endurance,” Viktor offered in a lighter tone, knowing that argument was more likely to sway Jayce.

 

Jayce thought for a beat before his face crumbled. “It feels so basic." 

 

Viktor's jaw dropped, the insult hitting right in the center of its intended target. 

 

“Are you calling me basic?” 

 

Jayce shrugged, but the elation at the perceived offense was evident in the glint in his eye.

 

“You came up with it!” Viktor complained with outrage. 

 

“As a last resort!”

 

Needless to say, that idiotic discussion stretched for an hour and a half, only to come out the other end with yet another parked topic.

 

Jayce's caffeine spike eventually crashed, and the man's torso ended up sprawled over their common desk as sleep clawed itself onto him. 

 

“We'll find a name,” he mumbled.

 

“Mhm,” Viktor replied as he revisited the information on the board. 

 

The speed at which Jayce could fall asleep was truly astounding, considering that before Viktor had finished his response, a soft snore had already wafted into the room. 

 

Viktor revised all of the talking points they'd discussed. Noted down new questions and different approaches to the new endeavors they'd decided to pursue. 

 

And, quite unexpectedly, Jayce’s louder breathing became a soothing sound.

 

Viktor’s eyes wandered toward him. 

 

He was out cold, hair draped over his eyes, cascading over his nose. 

 

Speaking with Jayce had been as if Viktor were in a dream-like state, and with tiredness coming into the mix, he was having a hard time telling reality from false understanding. 

 

New project? Real. 

 

The shocking lack of discomfort while in Jayce’s presence? Perhaps a false understanding. 

 

However, the stupidly effortless back-and-forth between them? Real.

 

Jayce being relentlessly kind? A mix of the two. 

 

Why is he relentlessly kind? 

 

Viktor redirected his attention to the blanket draped over his legs. 

 

Is this so bad? You've been treating him like a monster, and you haven't even heard him out. 

 

He doesn't deserve to be heard out, something growled inside him. 

 

Viktor sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose.

 

Well. You've shot the heroine directly into your veins, this time. Let's hope the dosage doesn't kill you. 

 

Despite the bothersome exhaustion, Viktor's mind was wired after drinking his coffee. 

 

Silently, he slipped on his brace and went on a stroll around the Academy in a jaw-clenched obligation to stretch his legs. 

 

While the cushions were heaven on his limbs, they were hell to rise from. 

 

Viktor had been thankful for Jayce’s lack of consciousness because standing up had not been the most graceful of affairs. 

 

The halls were completely empty during weekends, which, of course, was Viktor's preferred time to be there. 

 

He stopped by the canteen, where there was a large display of pastries and sandwiches, including the scrumptious muffin Jayce had procured for him.

 

Without allowing himself to overthink the gesture, Viktor purchased six sandwiches, four different types of muffins, four protein bars and three large bottles of water. He carried them back in a paper bag comfortably reclined against his hip. 

 

It didn't seem like they would be done with this first meeting anytime soon. 

 

And Jayce ate for three, when he didn't forget to feed himself. 

 

All the while, Viktor mulled over yet another problem. 

 

Beneath it all, they were both being highly idealistic. 

 

If Viktor gave in to an optimistic mindset, and this project was to become a reality, they would have to get around to finding a way to use the crystal permanently. 

 

Jayce had had a valid point in wondering if, without it, the creature would lose access to their body altogether. 

 

And how on earth were they going to keep the crystal for themselves, if there were dozens of other scientists at present working on their proposals for it? 

 

Without replication, the source was an acclaimed prestige. 

 

Was it ethical to bring to life an independent organism, without the ensured promise of independence? 

 

Would Viktor unawarily imprison them inside his laptop, with nowhere to go? Would it be torture?

 

Once dropping the bag on the table, he turned to resettle into his seat when his gaze dipped to the shimmerwine, intact where he'd left it last night. 

 

They hadn't even needed to get inebriated to tolerate each other's presence. 

 

Curious to test the hypothesis further, Viktor planted the bottle atop a cabinet inside his nook. Easily accessible without serving as a reminder. 

 

Then, Viktor shuffled back into his chair. Made the effort to remove his brace again. Lifted his leg over the can. 

 

Alleviation over those sore prickles washed over him in an instant. 

 

Damn you, Jayce.

 

The weight of his eyelids was irrepressible, and Viktor surrendered to the pull despite his mind being dimly awake. 

 

Round and round his thoughts on the matter went. 

 

Viktor wasn't entirely sure how much time had passed before he was groggily nearing the desk in clumsy scoots.

 

“Talis.” 

 

A maffle. 

 

Viktor kept his eyes fixated on the chalkboards, elbows propped against the edge of the table. 

 

With a tired exhale, Viktor lifted his forearm and let gravity do the rest. 

 

The back of his hand fell onto Jayce’s cheek with a soft, unimpressed smack.

 

Talis gasped as his eyes shot open. “I'm awake!” 

 

“Clearly,” Viktor slurred. “I don't see how we can do this without letting the creature use the crystal as a heart. For good.” 

 

_ _ _ 

Viktor swiftly retreated, using his more resilient leg to propel his chair backwards with a well-timed push.

 

Jayce rubbed the sleep from his eyes, hoping it would equally help with his brain fog.

 

“That sounds like a problem,” he offered. 

 

“Mhm.” 

 

“Okay.” Jayce stood and stretched his arms to the sky, prompting his muscles to release any lingering tension from the uncomfortable position he'd fallen asleep in. He followed the gesture by rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. “Let's think about this.” 

 

After ten minutes, they were both back in the groove. 

 

Jayce had rotated both boards to present the cleared back. He gestured to the one on the left. 

 

“So, on this side, we’ll address the ethical implications of not giving the thing the life it will long for. On this other side, I thought we could make a list with possible solutions if we don't manage to secure the crystal for proper implementation. That way we can jump from one to the other as it comes.” 

 

Viktor released a slow, tight breath. “Buckle up– it's going to be a long day.” 

 

But beneath the trepidation reflective of a preemptive acknowledgement for what was to come– there was a petite, sharp smile.

 

Jayce discerned it immediately, as if a worn-out book had been plucked from the library in his mind and opened on a particular page bearing the title: ‘How To Recognise Excitement in Viktor’ . 

 

The definition in it was staring Jayce right in the face.

 

Jayce's smile grew. 

 

I can see you peeking out. 

 

“Always a fan of the new colloquialisms you introduce to your vocab.” 

 

Air shot out of Viktor's nose, that modest curve in his lips persevering while his head cocked with a dare. “And what makes you think it's new?” 

 

Jayce chuckled, pivoting back to the board, chalk at the ready between dusted fingers. “You would have pulled that puppy out long ago.” 

 

Viktor snorted, a genuine sound that evoked Jayce to grin over his shoulder as he jotted down the label for each chalkboard, according to the current approach in motion. 

 

As expected, the ethical implications alone were plenty.

 

They spoke about them for hours on end. From the conception of a creature that would be, most likely, undying in spirit (if its coding was properly safeguarded or backed up on a server, based on Viktor’s explanations), to the repercussions if a major malfunction were to occur. 

 

They bargained, on and on they went, and right about when they were about to reach a common decision, a new factor would be thrown into the equation and bring them right back to square one. 

 

Jayce helped himself to the food Viktor had acquired, chomping on the selected sandwich between scribbles. 

 

He was touched that Viktor had even had the inclination to prepare for another full day in Jayce's company. 

 

All on his own.

 

Eventually, they decided to include a kill switch, both inside the carcass and in Viktor's program. They had to be able to take full control if, for any reason, the situation turned dangerous. It tasted bitter in their mouth, but owning up to their creation and honing any and all responsibilities for the consequences of their actions was a must. 

 

As for the crystal… That was just as complex. 

 

Jayce reminded Viktor of the energy buffers he had been planning to include, which meant that the suit would store energy naturally. 

 

If they could accumulate power within, maybe introducing several batteries could switch the energy source and release their dependence on the crystal. 

 

Unfortunately, it was not as simple as that. The goal wasn't just to feed function to a titanium body, it also included a full electrical circuit, a sentient consciousness that would be awake at all times, alongside the thousands of other processes–whether mental or physical–that would be taking place, all at once. 

 

Considering the infinitude of intricate functions, Jayce didn't know of any battery that could last for longer than a couple of hours, at most. 

 

Viktor suggested that if they could get it to last eight hours, he might attempt to code a sleep mode into the entity. Just like human beings, he wondered if he could get it to dream as it recharged. 

 

The idea was too abstract to even attempt to conceptualise, currently. 

 

Jayce blew a raspberry. “Using the crystal continues to be most ideal.” 

 

Viktor was nodding. “I'm not sure we can do it without it. Unless we change the definition of the entire project.” 

 

“So either we present one hell of a case, or we go rogue.” 

 

The corners of Viktor's tilted up as his eyes snapped toward Jayce, who was presently leaning on the edge of the desk as he distractedly pulled on his beard. 

 

Jayce stilled, eyes widening at the sudden attention. “What?” 

 

Viktor's attention fled elsewhere. “Nothing.” 

 

His gaze slandered. “If we were going to play it safe, we would do something else entirely, right?” 

 

“The presentation for the projects is in four months. There's no way we can get this done by then. If someone else takes the crystal instead of us, that's the entire concept down the drain.” 

 

Jayce smirked. “Better get there first, then.” 

 

Viktor was silent for a heavy pause. Then, he hummed under his breath. “You do realize that we will never win the competition with this, right?” Viktor asked plainly, hand waving toward the boards that were now utterly covered with the residues of their discussions. “It gives the source one use only, and it's not one they can leverage, cash in on, or even control. Not if it's sentient.” 

 

Yeah… Viktor was speaking true. Jayce's experience was carved into his back, filled with scars of the invisible whip he'd had to endure. 

 

They didn't care about groundbreaking scientific innovation. 

 

They cared about their coffers. 

 

And this idea was far too unpredictable to be considered a top contender. 

 

“I don't really care,” Jayce found himself confessing.

 

This is for us . 

 

His voice was heavy and quiet when he asked, “Do you?” 

 

Jayce’s lab partner considered his stance for a prolonged beat. 

 

“Not anymore, no.” 

 

Something warm unfurled in Jayce's sternum, even if he knew that, deep down, Viktor's decision was wholly unrelated to him.  

 

“Good,” Jayce said with a curt bob of his head. “Fuck them. Let's play by our rules.” 

///

As time passed, the sun set, the gilded rays filtering through the windows and coating the lab in shades of warmth, slowly dimming to welcome the night. 

 

And still, their conversations were nowhere close to coming to an end. 

 

At some point in the middle of the night, Jayce forced a plate of food onto Viktor.

 

“If you don't replenish, your brain will stop working,” he accused. “And that would be unfortunate, given the nature of our meeting.” 

 

Viktor bit his tongue, but took it into his lap all the same. 

 

“So,” Jayce started after a much-needed pause, picking a muffin apart while sitting on top of the side of the table. “Are you going to tell me what your issue is with a bigger carcass?” 

 

“I've told you why,” Viktor muttered, taking another bite from his tuna sandwich. 

 

Jayce pressed the corners of his lips into his cheeks, fronting an expression that seemed to say, we both know there's more to it.

 

But, surprisingly– he didn't press Viktor any further than that. 

 

He munched in silence, gaze calmly drifting back from his food to Viktor, patiently waiting for him to decide whether or not he wanted to disclose the real reason behind that preference. 

 

Curious, Viktor shifted to better analyse him.

 

Jayce's eyes were clear, gentle even. His posture was relaxed, the tips of his shoulders restfully curving inwards, his thighs parted in comfort. The first three buttons of his shirt were undone, and the edges of his collar fell open and slack on either side. 

 

For once, Viktor did not feel invaded. 

 

More like his project companion was seeking to better understand a decision that would ultimately affect him. Arguably, more than anyone in the short term.

 

Jayce was the one who had to build the thing, wasn't he? 

 

Perhaps if Viktor attempted to offer an explanation, the whole argument would click into place. 

 

As vulnerable as it felt in the moment, Viktor did not share for his sake. But for the future entity that was bound to be brought into this world. 

 

With a heavy sigh, he returned his attention to the food gripped between his fingers. 

 

“I know what it's like to have a body that speaks without consent.”

 

Jayce froze with a piece of pastry halfway to his mouth, his focus flickering back to Viktor.

 

Softly, he lowered his hand. 

 

“What do you mean?” 

 

Viktor pursed his lips, resting the sandwich onto the plastic film spread on his lap. 

 

“I can tell what the first thing people see when they look at me is,” he confessed with a murmur, digits absentmindedly travelling to his knee– despite the lack of pain in the moment, the aches resumed the moment he applied the slightest pressure. “I'm not a researcher, or a scientist, nor a friend or a son. I'm not any one quality or suspected virtuosity. Sometimes, I'm not even a person.” Viktor rubbed soft circles around his joint, biting the inside of his cheek. “I'm a cane.” 

 

Jayce’s brows pinched upward. He, too, set his meal aside.

 

“And of course it's not the same,” Viktor swiftly continued, hoping to blur the sharp edges of his admission. “But if we make them a giant, then that's the first thing people will see, too. A something, not a someone.” 

 

“That's terrible,” Jayce shared with an unnecessarily tender tone. 

 

“It's reality. Perhaps in a normal body, I wouldn't have had to make an effort to force people to see beyond first impressions. It's what I want to offer the entity, as well.” Viktor tilted his head, urging himself to be realistic. “As much as I can, at least.” 

 

Jayce fell quiet, uncertainty radiating from his studious regard. 

 

The tension in the air thickened with every second added to the silence between them. 

 

“Viktor,” Jayce breathed. “You do have a normal body.” 

 

There was a slicing pang hitting Viktor’s entrails, recoiling at the unwanted closeness. “Spare me,” he sternly bit out. “You understood my meaning.” 

 

Jayce exhaled, hands brushing against the fabric of his trousers.

 

Carefully, he asked, “Can I speak my mind, or would you prefer I say nothing at all?” 

 

Viktor was inclined to dismiss his personal opinions, to encourage him to say nothing at all. 

 

The mere idea of being comforted over an accustomed existence caused something to begin crawling under Viktor’s skin, the itch worsened by the notion that pity is what might come out of Jayce's mouth if he were to open it. 

 

Viktor despised that more than anything in this world. Almost more than he did Talis.

 

And still, after a couple of days without filters around one another, living off of nothing but coffee, shit food and each other's minds– it felt rather unnatural to begin censoring Jayce's for the sake of Viktor's comfort, alone. 

 

Against his better judgment and in the interest of their working together–and keeping the fragile peace between them–, Viktor invited him to continue with a curt gesture of his hand.

 

His teeth were secretly clenched as he did so.

 

Jayce’s fierce attention was burning a hole in the side of Viktor’s cheek. 

 

Once again, he let out a breath. His hands rose to interlace with the dark strands of his hair, sleeking them back and away from his face. 

 

Then, he splayed his palms behind him as he leaned back, left leg faintly swaying as Jayce pinned his unfocused gaze somewhere in the distance. 

 

Jayce embraced the silence. 

 

Which only unsettled Viktor further, despite the evident thawing occurring within. 

 

“Have you short-circuited?” Viktor wondered aloud after a short while.

 

“Just give me a moment. Geez,” he smiled to that chosen point somewhere above his eyesight. 

 

Was…

 

Was Jayce measuring his words?

 

Since when?

 

“I might not ever understand what that feels like,” he began, his tone soothed. “To be reduced to an assumption based on an aspect of myself I didn't get to choose.” Distractedly, Jayce scratched his beard. “And I can imagine it to be degrading, to be put in a position where you have to automatically prove yourself just to counter argue a preconception born of some fucked up, ableist association that is so recurrent you have come to expect it every time. To be forced to challenge a subconscious opinion they might have of you before you've even said hello.” 

 

Jayce's kind eyes finally drifted toward him. “The fact that thinking like that is indirectly reinforced, and not immediately registered as a poisoned mind, is what's really wrong. As if every one of us weren't one bad day away from being in that same position.” There was a defeat behind his straying eyes, as well as his intonation. “As they say, if anyone would be interested in discovering the true extent of how broken our societal structure really is, they should simply have an earnest conversation with either a homeless person or someone living with a disability.” 

 

Viktor couldn't keep it in.

 

A short, sharp chortle escaped him.

 

Viktor was stating in astonishment at his former friend, trying to decipher the man before him by pulling him apart and putting him back together in his head. 

 

In a baffling realization, Viktor felt tempted to add to that unforseen, fascinating argument. To dive into that rabbit-hole with no practical purpose, but mere intellectual gratification. 

 

When did you grow up? Was the question fiercely itching his tongue. 

 

“Who's they?” Is what came out instead, unconceivable amusement coating his words.

 

Jayce brought in his glassy focus. “Hm?” 

 

For a change, Viktor actively kept the eye contact between them. “You said, ‘as they say’. Who's they?” 

 

Jayce cracked a smile, cheeks burning with a new shade. “Me. I am they.” 

 

Viktor let out a breathy chuckle. “Might be the wisest thing I've ever heard you say. Should I call an ambulance? You don’t happen to have a fever, do you?” 

 

“Oi,” he complained, that familiar mock offense fluidly returning. “Give me some credit here. I might be slow at getting the point, but I get it eventually.” 

 

Viktor couldn't look away from him. 

 

The air between them suddenly thrummed with something new and fairly unrelated to the topic at hand.

 

Jayce shook his head, shedding it with ease. “Anyway, what I was trying to get at is that no, I don't think it's you who isn't normal. It's them and the blatant discrimination infesting their shallow brains.” 

 

Viktor was silent for a long while. 

 

His hand retracted from his aching limb, finding the thin wrapper under his sandwich suddenly fascinating to the touch.

 

Viktor wasn't sure what led him to say what he did next.

 

“I have several chronic illnesses, one of which will eventually suffocate me,” he volunteered amidst the quiet. “My spine is a twisted vine. My bones rattle with each miserable step. And if you hadn't desecrated me, I'd be dead by now. So, no. Maybe I'm not particularly normal, either.” 

 

Why did Jayce Talis's full attention feel scorching every time? 

 

Viktor didn't miss the way his throat bobbed, either.

 

“Viktor, you're more than all those things combined.” 

 

Which hadn't been what Viktor had expected to come out of his mouth. 

 

Not in the least. 

 

No offense, no defense, no unwanted clarification for the slight made against him.

 

Just… that.

 

But Jayce didn't really understand. And Viktor couldn't blame him. 

 

Chronic illness grabbed its victim by the throat and squeezed , only to come to the assailing realization that the grip would never loosen. While capricious fluctuations might occur from one day to the next, those fingers clutching his windpipe would never take a day off. 

 

Eventually, one forgets that perpetually gasping for air is not equivalent to breathing. Or that it shouldn't be. 

 

“I wish I knew the right words to say to that,” Jayce said feebly. 

 

“You don't have to say anything,” Viktor replied without missing a beat. “I was just trying to prove my point regarding the titanium bodice.” 

 

There was a brief pause. Jayce tightened his lips, bringing his arms forward and clasping the edge of the table to each of his sides. 

 

When Talis looked up at last, new determination oozed from his demeanor.

 

“Would you like me to be honest?” 

 

Why did Jayce keep asking Viktor what he could or could not do?

 

“I don't think I could stop you if I tried,” Viktor attempted.

 

“You could,” Jayce affirmed.

 

Not a breeze of hesitation in sight. 

 

Their gazes locked onto one another, anew. And at the genuine truth radiating from his regard, Viktor's chest confusedly clenched.

 

Finding comfort in his habitual behaviours, Viktor rolled his eyes. “Go on, then.” 

 

Jayce nodded, once again cloaking himself in the silence to find his words. 

 

Which was a new practice that Viktor could not make up his mind about. 

 

“I think if we reduce the being into something palatable, we're keeping them from reaching their full potential out of fear of outward perception.” Jayce cocked his head. “If you didn't let that stop you, why should it for them?” 

 

And that shut Viktor right the fuck up. 

 

He hadn't been trying to limit them. 

 

Is that what he'd been indirectly doing? 

 

Shit. 

 

Nothing was as horrifying as realising Jayce might have momentarily held the moral upper hand.

 

Since when had Viktor allowed what others thought or didn't think to define him? 

 

He was the only master of his identity. 

 

And that's the way it should be for the consciousness, as well. That's the way it should be for anybody who didn't want to be chained by uncontrollable factors. 

 

“I hate you,” Viktor blurted out.

 

And for whatever reason beyond Viktor's comprehension, Jayce grinned. 

 

“You're welcome.” 

 

“Your smugness knows no end,” Viktor muttered as he took the sandwich between his hands and took another bite. 

 

Talis hopped off the table, circling it to reclaim his abandoned chair, a satisfied smile still coating his lips. “What can I say? Not everyone has access to my infinite savvy.” 

 

Viktor huffed through his nose, deliberately masticating his food. “I must have committed some frankly horrendous crime in my past life to have been condemned to atone for it with your company in this one.” 

 

Jayce snickered to himself, sliding his empty mug further to the side before he retrieved his muffin. 

 

He raised his feet to prop them against the table and involuntarily winced. Indifferent, he crossed his ankles and opened his mouth to reply. 

 

“Okay, I've had enough,” Viktor suddenly snapped, lowering his meal anew and unapologetically interrupting Jayce’s train of thought entirely.

 

He whirled his head toward Viktor, his slackened jaw frozen in time as his eyes widened with alarm.

 

Viktor ignored it.

 

“What is going on with your leg?” He inquired brusquely. 

 

Jayce's mouth closed with unnecessary caution. He visibly swallowed. “M-my leg?” 

 

Viktor signaled petulantly to his right limb. “You're in obvious distress.” 

 

“Oh. No.” He waved his arm in front of him, as if informing Viktor that he’d misread the situation. 

 

Viktor had not. His flinching was a recurrent pattern.

 

“Don’t worry,” he chuckled. “It'll pass.” 

 

“It hasn't passed,” Viktor bit out. “Since when are you in pain?” 

 

“All is good and dandy.”

 

Viktor kept his incessant glower on him. “Since. When.” 

 

“Um…” Jayce’s eyes slid to the side, considering his response. “The explosion?”

 

Viktor's heartbeat picked up as understanding dawned on him. “You can't be serious.” 

 

“Yes?”

 

“Jayce, that was three months ago.” 

 

He flicked a piece of pastry and caught it in his mouth. “It’s fine.” 

 

“You should be more concerned,” Viktor insisted, not hiding his bubbling aggravation. “Go to the doctor, for crying out loud.” 

 

Jayce halted. “Woah.” Blinked once, slowly. “That just gave me a deja vu.” 

 

Viktor was grinding his teeth. 

 

“Very funny,” he seethed. “I mean it.” 

 

Jayce was back to munching on his muffin, a corner of his mouth ticked up. “You worry too much.” 

 

“The more you put it off, the worse it will get.” Viktor did not soften his tone. “Don't make me the voice of reason.” 

 

“Why not? It suits you.” 

 

Viktor was tempted to punch the well-pleased smile right off his face.

 

And even so, he made an effort to take a step back. Who was he to tell Talis how to care for his well-being?

 

Consequently, he rescued his focus and recentered it on his meal. 

 

“It'll sullen my personal etiquette,” Viktor muttered through a full mouth.

 

Jayce laughed, disappointedly moving his hard noggin from side to side.

 

“In honor of protecting your personal etiquette, allow me to change the subject.” 

 

Jayce went on to discuss other attributes he'd considered adding to the titanium bodice, offering a middle ground by suggesting Viktor bring the creature to life before he officially forged them into the suit. 

 

That way, the being could participate in the decisions and pick out what it personally wanted included in its body; it could consider Viktor's point of view and choose its preference. 

 

And even though they'd easily discarded the conversation, Viktor tucked away the newly discovered information in an active corner of his mind.

 

It didn't feel right. 

 

Jayce had thoughtlessly used his body to protect him, without a single consideration for the sacrifice that single action could entail. 

 

What if he had suffered a serious injury? 

 

Viktor had stopped eating after that, a brutal wave of nausea taking over his senses. 

 

He needed to convince Jayce to see a doctor. If only for his own peace of mind. 

 

Christ.

 

Regardless of his serious apprehension for the man, Viktor did not know what he would do with himself if that damage were in any way permanent.

 

The notion of alone was profoundly mortifying.

 

And that feeling was brand new.

/// 

They worked tirelessly through the night. 

 

Both were too wired to sleep. Too hungry to take a break. 

 

The project was starting to form a tangible picture, and with every shared intention, every new proposition, every additional agreement, the dream continued to materialise into an inescapable destiny.

 

It was dizzyingly purring between them.

 

Only when the lines of the buildings outside their window began to recover their structure did they fall into comfortable, bone-tired silence.

 

Jayce’s fingers were pressing onto his eye sockets when he finally spoke again. “Should we go home? Get some proper sleep. We already have a plan, now it's just about setting it in motion.” 

 

Viktor's gaze was pinned to the world awakening beyond the window. “Yes,” he murmured. “We should.” 

 

As Jayce moved to reassemble his belongings and recover his lapple bag, Viktor slipped on his brace. 

 

When Jayce shifted near the entrance, searching for Viktor, he found him utterly immobile in his seat.

 

“You go ahead,” he encouraged without addressing Jayce directly. “I think… I would like to see the sun rise.” 

 

After a beat, quiet steps approached him. 

 

“If we're staying to watch the sunrise, might as well do it properly.” 

 

Only then did Viktor tilt his head to meet his eyes, hazel patiently waiting for his attention. 

 

Talis looked exhausted.

 

“We?” 

 

A soft smile bloomed on Jayce's lips. “I’m driving you home.” Jayce approached the desk tucked in Viktor's nook and reached for his cane, still poised against it. Forgotten during the last two days . Then, he strolled back and calmly offered it. “Come on. Before we miss it.” 

 

In a fatigued daze, Viktor’s fingers circled the polished wood. 

 

Jayce said nothing as Viktor leaned his full weight on his aid in an attempt to rise from his chair with some semblance of dignity.

 

Once standing, he followed Jayce out the door.

 

They took the elevator to the last floor, not a single word shared between them. 

 

Only when they reached a flight of stairs did Jayce murmur, “Is this okay?” 

 

Viktor hummed under his breath and effortfully climbed the steps. 

 

Eventually, they crossed a metallic door that welcomed them to the roof. 

 

It was empty and expansive, and a blend of nude pinks and smoldering oranges were starting to bleed outward from beyond the sea. 

 

They walked in unspoken tandem toward the faraway railing. Jayce bowed forward to brace his elbows on it, hands clasped together, while Viktor let his fingers brush over the cool metal. 

 

In the distance, sailboats were gliding out of the bay and into open waters in pursuit of the first light, embracing the early start to the day.

 

Yet, Piltover remained deliciously quiet.  

 

They took it all in. Neither interrupted the gorgeous unfurling of vibrant color, unhurriedly pouring life back into the city.

 

The dark tapestry draped over them thinned over time as those pinks and oranges lazily sought out the rest of the sky. Before long, the stunning rim of the sun breached the waterline, as if it were stretching after its deep slumber to greet them.

 

The muted rays shimmered on the water, only intensifying the profound beauty before them. 

 

Viktor would never have allowed himself to admit it aloud, especially considering he was standing on Piltovian soil, but he'd missed this view. 

 

It claimed him with a recognition that was seeped into his very nature. 

 

Viktor closed his eyes the moment the sun caressed his face, greedy–as he often was–for its warmth. 

 

He couldn't wait to get home and sleep for hours on end. To disconnect from the pains in his spine, and his leg, and his foot– protesting in unison over a lack of rest, despite having demanded nothing of them over the past couple of days.

 

He was unsure how much time had passed when Jayce murmured, almost to himself, “You know what I've been thinking?” 

 

In a show of pure theatricality, Viktor snapped his eyes open with an exaggerated gasp, the gesture dipped in concern, rupturing the fragility of the moment they'd been enveloped by.

 

Considering the startled look on Jayce's expression, it was most probable that the unexpectedness of the act was the responsible factor that caused him to laugh.

 

“Don't hurt yourself,” Viktor added to the offense.  

 

“Yeah, so, fuck you,” Jayce said with a smile, starting the listing by ticking up his thumb, “and secondly, I was about to offer a solution to one of our many issues. Now you'll never know.” 

 

The second finger he’d used to enumerate had been the middle one. 

 

And the foul gesture was directly aimed at Viktor.

 

“Oh, would you look at that?” Jayce barely inclined his head to the side, studying his hand with mock astonishment. “Just for you.” 

 

A flicker of a smile was tugging at Viktor's lips. He pressed them together to control the impulse.

 

“A solution, you say?” 

 

Jayce didn't reply right away. His focus drifted toward the light beginning to crown over the rooftops scattered ahead.

 

"What was the name of that pet rock you had as a kid?"

 

Viktor’s head snapped in his direction, incredulity cracking his composure.

 

Had he heard him correctly?

 

He'd heard him correctly.

 

How could he remember? 

 

His stomach tightened in desolation, causing his voice to come out with a slight tremble. “What are you doing?” 

 

Viktor knew, though. Deep down, in his gut– he knew.

 

“Will you just tell me?” Jayce let out with a nervous chuckle.

 

Viktor stared at his profile, at the golden hues filtering into that luscious green and inviting them to glow.

 

"Blitzcrank?" He hushedly offered after a desperately integral pause.

 

"Yes!” Jayce said, snapping his fingers with resolution. "Blitzcrank. Been racking my brain trying to remember it."

 

Viktor stared unabashedly. "What about it?"

 

The sunlight was grazing Jayce's features, pronouncing the small tilt, stunbornly lacing his full lips.

 

"That," Jayce said softly with a modest nod. "That should be their name.” 

 

Viktor grew speechless. 

 

For some stupid reason, the mere idea made him want to cry. 

 

Which was out of the question. 

 

Christ, he was definitely too tired to function.

 

"Why?" Viktor asked with genuine, quiet curiosity.

 

Jayce's gentle smile remained as he brought his focus back to Viktor. "It's about time we gave your old friend a voice of their own, don't you think?"

 

Viktor's gaze flickered over his expression, franticly searching for any sign of deception as an unforeseen, raw ache thumped outside of his body.

 

It matched the beat pulsating on the side of his neck. 

 

Blitzcrank. 

 

His companion during the darkest times in his childhood, his adamant helper, his support system while Viktor had been a babe desperately trying to make sense of the world around him.

 

Blitzcrank.

 

Brought to life.

 

Viktor arched a brow, schooling his expression in an attempt to keep the surging emotions from becoming transparent in his features. "I also distinctly remember you saying it was a terrible name.” 

 

"I said no such thing," Jayce defended stubbornly, returning his gaze to the sea in complete oblivion to Viktor’s internal state.

 

Viktor was profoundly glad for it.

 

"It was implied,” he rasped.

 

"So, you don't like it?” 

 

Silence fell anew. Thick and heavy, even if Viktor was the only one who could perceive it. 

 

I– 

 

Viktor swallowed the emotion clawing in his throat.

 

I love it. 

 

The unbreakable devotion he felt toward that imaginary friend somehow seemed to match to perfection the one he was developing for the entity that was yet to awaken.

 

“Are you certain?” 

 

“I think it's perfect,” Jayce assured in a low voice. 

 

Viktor's eyes roamed back to the glorious sight before him, new movements unfolding in the streets down below.

 

He needed common ground, and he needed it now.

 

“Is it because you came up with it?” 

 

Jayce smiled broadly despite the lassitude evident in his eyes. “Obviously. Why else?” 

 

Why else.

 

They stood there together, sunlight continuing to flood every crevice of the world around them, minutes ticking by, and with nowhere else to flee outside of this moment.

 

The suggestion to turn Blitzcrank into a living being had utterly disarmed Viktor, stripping him of an impenetrable skin accustomed to daily wear. It left him out in the open in a way he would have never expected.

 

He hasn't forgotten.

 

It seemed so insignificant– Talis was acting as if it were.

 

Yet to Viktor, it was not. 

 

That belief that he didn't have any permeance in the universe, shattered once more over a simple gesture.

 

There was not another living soul inhabiting this earth–the one now dawning before his very eyes–that had known this intimate detail about him. 

 

Something he'd shared on his supposed deathbed, thinking himself safe from having his choice haunt him. 

 

But…

 

It hadn't looped around to haunt him.

 

It had come back as a gift.

 

His purpose was clearer than it ever had been in the past seven, eight, however many years. As if this detail had finally clicked everything into place. 

 

Fate had a plan for Viktor, after all. 

 

It just, in harrowing misfortune, included Jayce Talis.

 

But it was a cosmic affair. 

 

His greatest joy in the making, his brand new legacy– for the price of being in direct contact with his greatest affliction.

 

Nature had a delicate tendency to correct itself, to demand a scrupulous balance and provide order to all things. To give, as well as take. To suggest, as well as enforce. To flourish, as well as annihilate. 

 

And Viktor was currently caught in the crossfire of it all. 

 

Even though everything inside Viktor was begging him to avoid it, without his dependable armor, he failed himself miserably.

 

“Can I ask you a question?” 

 

Jayce shifted his head toward him, offering his attention with a newfound tranquility. “Always.” 

 

Viktor inhaled deeply. Waited for the deafening thumping to settle. 

 

“Why didn't you keep it?” He wondered aloud, at last. His fingers were concealed as they grazed the chilled metal railing. “The money.” 

 

Jayce’s eyebrows inched toward each other. “Why would I?” 

 

Viktor pursed his lips. “I thought that was partially the point.”

 

A clear indentation appeared between his brows. “For the money?” 

 

“Yes.”

 

He analysed the look in Viktor's eyes, as if he were trying to decipher what his intent was.

 

Soon, Jayce’s focus slid back to the landscape before them. “I suppose it depends from which angle you look at it. It's… not a simple question. It definitely doesn't have a simple answer. There were one too many factors leading to that decision.”

 

Viktor joined him, the cresting sun in the distance acting as an anchor to reality. 

 

One of the most traumatic events of his life, boiled down to a decision.

 

It was beyond insulting. 

 

But Viktor deserved to know. 

 

At this point, a new, angered desire to have answers was beginning to surge within. 

 

“Would you…” He cleared his throat. “Would you share them with me? Somewhere in the future.”

 

But even in the face of the tempest thundering inside him, Jayce's smile retained its soft curve as his heavy eyes drifted to find him. 

 

“Of course, Viktor," he whispered hoarsely. “Whenever you want."

Notes:

TW: discussion of capitalistic hell, emotional breakdown, profound grief over someone deceased, mention of ableist thinking processes, internalised ableism

///

I swear I feel like between the beginning of the chapter and the end, about 3 emotional years have passed

J now constantly stressing about whether or not hes saying the right thing or not ayyy D: more trauma developing les go

In case you'd like some ambiance, I had "well never have sex" by leith ross from brainys playlist on a loop while I was writing js breakdown, in fact I think its what subconsciously prompted it with the whole "suck the rot right out of my bloodstream" lyric. THANKS FOR THE EMOTIONAL BREAKDOWN BRAINY, THANKS A LOT. And while the song feels romantic, ah fakin hell, "you kissed me just to kiss me, not to make me cry" WAS WHAT HAPPENED, EVEN IF PLATONICALLY AND FIGURATIVELY jesus christ "I feel the sickness less and less" this fandom is a PRISON

I miss meni

Yay for being back in the lab!!!! They're talking!!!! Bonding over how shit the world is!!! And buying each other food!!!

HABEMUS BLITZCRANK OFFICIALLY!!!! Congrats to those who guessed it in the comments (looking at you refy). This is gonna be fun.

Not for v though, clearly 😂

I hope you have an amazing (however long until we see each other). Take care!!

As always, any feedback and/or overall opinion is not only welcome, but deeply motivating and appreciated <3 truly

tooodalooooo!

Chapter 33: You're obsessed.

Notes:

TW IN ENDNOTES

hi beautiful monarchsssssss!!

long chapter ahead, get cosy

hope everyone is having a lovely summer :))

take care!! and happy jayvik!

Desecrated?

 

That word was ricocheting inside Jayce's brain, from one corner to another, desperately searching for an out and finding none. 

 

Jayce hadn't made any reference to it upon hearing it fall out of Viktor's lips, he hadn't paused to analyse it. He'd merely tucked it away in fear that questioning it in the moment would have driven the focus away from the true subject behind Viktor's words. 

 

Words that had had their own valued significance.

 

As of late, Jayce had been making a conscious effort to avoid discussing himself during their conversations. Focusing on that single word would have soiled that fragile moment between them. A moment that was unimaginably precious to Jayce. 

 

Viktor was slowly opening up. 

 

Not in the way Jayce had expected, nor in the way he'd been frantically pleading for. But in his own way. On his own terms. With one foot in front of the other, testing the terrain before leaning his weight on the ground beneath him.

 

If Jayce had heeded his own advice from the start and allowed Viktor enough time and space to come to him, who knows where they would be by now? 

 

He couldn't help but be silently furious over the fact, and there was no one to blame but himself. 

 

Even so, something was undeniably sprouting between them– Jayce could almost touch it. After those two days together, speaking of nothing but science and their shared excitement over a common vision, their bond was taking a turn; walls were coming down, brick by onerous brick. 

 

It was a humbling experience, considering that removing a single brick from that imposing fort could take up to a full month, while rebuilding the impervious structure in its entirety could happen in the span of a blink. 

 

But Jayce was all in. 

 

If Viktor were to choose to restore that bulwark, Jayce would remain on the other side to offer his assistance in breaking it back down. Over and over again, for as long as Viktor required, for as many times as he saw fit. Jayce would do so for the rest of his life, if that's what it took.

 

A life with Viktor orbiting near was worth everything he had to give. Nothing else mattered quite as much to Jayce as their bond, not anymore. Not when his reawakened soul had swollen in his chest, and the only component for that occurrence had been Viktor's true nature, hesitantly coming out to play with his own.  

 

Jayce hadn't even made a conscious effort to return to his essence; it had just happened.

 

Unaware, it had been a slow process over the last months, where Jayce had inadvertently tripped over forgotten pieces of himself as he made his way toward his friend, only for them to abruptly come together in an unimaginable instance. 

 

Which was slightly ironic to think about, considering Jayce had put in tremendous effort over the years in an aimless pursuit of that exact effect, only for it to occur accidentally while he was distractedly looking away.

 

His body didn't feel as heavy anymore, his mind not as dull, which invited a rediscovery after eight years of normalising that reality. Now, Jayce welcomed the morning feeling weightless, embracing that breathless pull softly tugging him back to the lab with an eagerness for what was to come he couldn't dampen– not that he wanted to, anyway. 

 

Thus, if the rest of his days were to consist of rolling up his sleeves and waiting for the go-ahead to help remove yet another brick, there was no cost to it. There was no burden to it. None.

 

Jayce wanted his presence to be equally rewarding for Viktor, hoped it could eventually be just as sought out. Hell, even managing to return a tenth of what he felt in Viktor's presence would be a joy. Jayce ached for Viktor to find peace in his company, a silent promise of understanding and of a fierce celebration of his deepest sense of self. 

 

Even if there was much of it that was still unknown. 

 

Be that as it may, the little Jayce had gotten a glimpse of had already sprouted a secret obsession. Every opinion Viktor shared of the world only expanded his own discernment, every joke only strengthened his sense of inclusion– as if Viktor were a reflection of the humanity Jayce had tiredly set aside for lack of affinity. There hadn't been another friendship to share it with, not properly. 

 

And it hadn't been for a lack of trying.

 

But with Viktor, it belonged. It was greeted, and then innately multiplied. 

 

That alone was worth far more than any fortune. 

 

And Viktor deserved the same. 

 

Which brought Jayce right back to that insidious word. 

 

Desecrated. 

 

How could Jayce have fucked things up so astronomically for Viktor to use that word in regards to him? How could he have ever allowed that to happen? How could Jayce have failed him so acutely? 

 

Worst of all, how could Jayce have let Viktor walk away without telling him everything ?

 

Jayce should have begged him to listen. He should have done anything in his power to stay by his side.

 

How could Jayce have made Viktor feel that way, to begin with? 

 

Regardless of the reasons behind Viktor's self-expression, Jayce was the cause. That's what Viktor attributed to him, and without his anger to defend his intentions, Jayce was left with a bleeding wound slowly flooding his chest. 

 

It was different from the ones he'd experienced before. Yes, Viktor's leaving was a gash. Having no real context, another. Facing that job, one more. 

 

Except this one was derived from profound guilt. Even without fully comprehending what it meant to Viktor, the fact that Jayce's actions had led to that association, to the existence of such a word within Viktor–

 

Jayce was beginning to understand.

 

Why's aside, it was unforgivable. 

 

Because Viktor could never have caused that response within him. Jayce couldn't even begin to imagine what kind of fucked up shit Viktor would have had to do for Jayce to discuss him in that manner.  

 

Every example that came to mind was truly horrendous. 

 

And if Viktor were to discuss anyone else in such a way, Jayce would have been enraged for him. It was very likely he would have turned to violence against the culprit. 

 

How dare they hurt Viktor? Viktor?! 

 

That spectacular human being deserved to be cherished, and nothing else. Sure, he could get on Jayce's nerves, but deep down– that sentiment was an indisputable fact. 

 

And even though Jayce was painfully aware that his intentions hadn't been dissimilar, the truth of the matter was being whispered into his psyche. 

 

Yet again, could it simply be that Viktor and Jayce had different definitions of the term? 

 

Viktor was the healthiest Jayce had ever seen him; how could that equate to desecration? 

 

What if Viktor never explained it to him? What if Jayce was never invited into his experience? What if he never wholly understood? 

 

Would the queries presently eluding him haunt him for life? 

 

Because considering it would be Viktor's choice to call him to hear the answer, Jayce wasn't entirely sure his friend would ever feel inclined to do so. He'd asked to discuss Jayce's actions and the reasoning behind them, but he hadn't shown any signs of wanting to share his own.

 

And if that word was anything to go by, Jayce worried that he could no longer blame him for it.

///

For the first time since he'd returned from staying over at Jayce's apartment, Viktor could affirm to have slept soundly. 

 

Of course, not the consecutive–and incomprehensible–twenty hours he had all those weeks ago. But the kind of deep rest that recharged his entire being. 

 

Even though Viktor had a million thoughts running through his mind, frantic to get back to work, he also needed every ounce of energy he could store to face the new adventure they had embarked on.

 

The last two days had been… confusing. Easy. Buzzed with a current that was far too electric to dismiss. 

 

And Viktor was surprised to find that the kernel inside him that had momentarily demanded answers hadn't been snuffed out in its entirety after his much-needed nap. 

 

It was still faintly flickering within. 

 

The man Jayce presented himself to be and the man Viktor had experienced him to be were in constant collision.

 

Despite Viktor's undeniable understanding of his selfishness, of his entitlement, of his foul choices– none of it made sense in the face of the individual Viktor had just spent the last forty-eight hours with. Someone joyful, someone thoughtful, someone who persisted in his recollection of seemingly unimportant details about Viktor's life. Details he could have used to his advantage, but freely passed them on instead as unreadable peace offerings. 

 

Two months ago, Viktor would have slammed his hand in the fire regarding Talis's authentic nature. 

 

Now, while that hand was still inclined to graze the flames and have it lick his fingertips, it trembled with a hesitation that hadn't existed before. 

 

Viktor, you're more than all of those things combined. 

 

Why couldn't Jayce be vile to be around? Why did he have to unnecessarily complicate things so exponentially? 

 

Of course, there was still a chance that all of those gestures aligned with an unperceptible agenda. After all, he'd won the proof game by showcasing just how easily he could manipulate Viktor, if he wanted to. 

 

Come to think of it, he'd seemed quite flaunting of his victory in that regard.

 

Perhaps that was Talis’s true identity, peeking out in a moment of egotistic blindness. Perhaps he'd unavoidably removed his true mask in that moment to show Viktor who he really was, and Viktor had gotten caught in his trap. 

 

Yet again. 

 

It wouldn't have been the first time that Viktor stupidly believed Talis's pure intentions, that lying bastard. These games were beyond him when it came to that man.

 

If Jayce were to consistently act like a demon, that would make the whole ordeal far more manageable. In fact, Viktor would have been grateful for it.

 

But no– Viktor had found calm in his company. Interesting conversation, witty remarks, and a person who'd made an effort to understand Viktor's boundaries to wordlessly respect them.

 

It was confusing to realize that Viktor had no regrets regarding the personal details he'd shared. Jayce had met him with kindness and redirected him to new perspectives Viktor hadn't considered.

 

Which was a quality that Viktor not only respected, but hungered for. 

 

There weren't many individuals who'd managed to steer Viktor away from his original perception. Incontestable arguments were unusual to come by, considering most people he'd worked with often simply agreed with his say. In fairness, it was generally hard to refute.

 

Viktor secretly craved for anyone to prove him wrong. To convincingly oppose him. To put him to the test. To step into the ring with him and awaken hidden sections of his mind he hadn't already perused on his own. 

 

Which was the real challenge.

 

As it happened, being consistently aware was a lonely affair.

 

And here came Jayce fucking Talis, discarding Viktor’s reality over the past seven plus something years by unexpectedly unlocking Viktor’s brain and unceremoniously proving him wrong.

 

Viktor couldn't recall the last time he hadn't been able to predict the conclusion to a conversation.

 

Regrettably, Talis was rather irreplaceable. Professionally speaking.

 

So Viktor was now facing one of two options: either he got immersed in his work and forgot about the man entirely, using him only for his valuable skills when needed. 

 

Or, Viktor got to the bottom of this, once and for all. 

 

Both versions of Jayce Talis couldn't continue to coexist in Viktor's perception without relentlessly prompting a pounding migraine. 

 

If for no other reason, a clear mind would be crucial for the upcoming months. Sanity could not be underestimated with the challenge ahead. 

 

But the reality of the matter was that that younger version of Viktor, the one he'd actively sought to murder… It might have been forced into a premature burial. 

 

Even now, it twitched inside him. Soiled and abandoned, his twenty-five-year-old self wondered if he'd finally find the answers Viktor had forbidden them to search for with an assurance to already own them.

 

Yet, after all of these years, the question resurfaced.

 

Who the fuck was Jayce Talis? 

 

And there was only one person Viktor could think to ask.

 

He slunk toward his wardrobe, tentatively prying open the sleek, wooden doors. Sharpy, he rammed his rack of clothes to the side. Leaning his weight on his cane, he bent down and picked up the shoe box that had been purposefully tucked out of sight. 

 

His spine wasted no time flaring in protest.

 

After drifting to the kitchen to procure a sharp knife, Viktor moved to settle on the living room table, depositing the carton container before him. 

 

For a prolonged beat, it seemed to stare back.

 

With a deep inhale, he decidedly set aside the cover and studied the envelopes, neatly organised and patiently awaiting for his curiosity to strike. 

 

It had struck.

 

His fingertips grazed the edges of the first letter, already ripped open when he'd been staying over at Jayce's apartment.

 

I'm only going to read this for the first time once. 

 

With a minor tremble, he unfolded the page within.

My darling V, 

 

I know you don't want to be found. But I need to pour myself out to you somewhere, even if it's just for me. 

 

It's been a full week since you’ve been gone and I don't think it's quite sunk in yet. I think my mind is viciously trained on the thought that you are out on vacation, or something of the sort.

 

I keep expecting to see you waltz through the door, side-by-side with my son, the sounds of your bickering and shared laughter filling the house as they so often did.

 

Now, the air is silent and heavy– as if the house were in mourning, also.  

 

All I can selfishly think about is how much I wish you were here. 

 

Jayce hasn't left his room in over six days.

 

He is not eating. He's not showering. He's not speaking. He just lies there, and I have no idea what must be going through his mind. There's a crushing nothingness clinging behind his expression and his eyes are devoid of any light. If he weren't my son, I might mistake him for a stranger. 

 

The other day, I passed by his room and finally heard some noise through the door.

 

When I walked in, he was curled on his side, holding his chest as if his organs would tumble out if he chose to let go.  

 

At that moment, my darling, I saw my child again. He was not an adult, he was my eight-year-old boy, utterly terrified that a hurricane was coming his way. 

 

Except this time, the hurricane was you. 

 

Well, perhaps not you precisely. But the weight of your absence.

 

It's like a part of his soul has been brutally ripped out of him, and I wish there could be guidebooks for parents that specified what to do in these sorts of situations. When all I can offer is not nearly enough.  

 

What do you do when your everything is obsolete? When there must be a way to help, anything at all, and yet it completely eludes your capabilities?

 

What do you do when you try, and somehow make it worse?  

 

When you become a parent, you quickly come to terms with the fact that a piece of your heart will henceforth live outside your body, forever out in the open. It’s a terrifying feeling. 

 

Undoubtedly, one I would go through again.

 

That piece of my heart is bleeding into his cradle. My son's pain beats in my chest with a phantom memory that was never mine to begin with.  

 

What do you do when a spirit crumbles before your eyes and they can’t fathom the will to pick up the pieces?  

 

What am I to do? 

 

Oh, darling. I do hope you're happy, wherever you end up. I hope you found a new home, and that it's warm and welcoming. That you discover people you can connect with. 

 

I know you're going to go on to do great things. I will be cheerleading from afar, but always a mere call away darling. Don't forget that. 

 

I hope you're not worrying about us. Jayce will pick himself up. He just needs to go through the motions now, adapt to this new version of reality.  

 

I just wish it didn't have to be this way. 

A mixture of emotions was thundering inside Viktor's chest as he gripped the shaky page. 

 

The most predominant one was rage . 

 

What did Meni intend, for Viktor to feel sympathy for him? To forgive and forget? To care ? 

 

Like Jayce had cared for his choice? 

 

Worst of all, it told him nothing. For the purposes of his search, these words brought him nowhere closer to understanding the man he'd been pushed to work with. 

 

Had Jayce broken down because he hadn't gotten away with his heinous crime? Had he felt sorry for himself because he'd lost the person who'd been enthusiastically on board to help him achieve his dreams, as he had once expressed to Viktor?

 

These words weren't of his friend. They were of a desperate mother seeking to vent.

 

And yet–

 

Yet. 

 

Underneath that clawing anger, there was a breeze of something else. 

 

Viktor held between his grip yet another proof that he had mattered, in some capacity. Even if for all the wrong reasons, even if for what he could offer or what Jayce gained from his presence… His departure hadn't been wholly indifferent, as he'd assumed for so many years.

 

You left me.

 

That whine came roaring to the surface in Viktor’s consciousness, and his chest clenched in pain at the mere memory of it. 

 

Had Jayce truly experienced such piercing pain solely for losing his lab partner, and the benefits attached to such a connection? 

 

It didn't fully sit right. Something was off and Viktor couldn't put his finger on it. 

 

Which was maddening. 

 

After another heavy exhale, Viktor plucked the second envelope, carefully slid the tip of his knife under the glued edge, and sliced it open.

 

Viktor unfurled the second page and let his eyes skim over the elegant scrawl. 

It's strange. 

 

Every so often, Jayce will talk about someone he has recently gotten acquainted with at work and I promise you, I try.

 

I take his word for it and I pour myself into the newly shared discovery with nothing but excitement and burning curiosity.

 

But... he's still a shell of himself.

 

None of these people set my son on fire and I'm scared he will settle. That he will choose to surround himself with those who will never inspire him to come to life because that feels safer, somehow.

 

After all, you can’t really re-experience death if you never come back to life, to begin with. 

 

You set the bar, my darling, and everyone seems to fall short in comparison. But in the aftermath of you, it’s clear he believes that the version of himself that existed in your company has gone extinct.

 

I miss my son when he was radiant. I miss when he was excited about life. I miss hearing him laugh. Gosh, I don't think I can pinpoint the last time that happened.

Hello, my darling.

 

I stopped writing because I needed to have a little cry. And now I'm not entirely sure what I was getting at.

 

I think you took a piece of my son with you when you left.

 

And you can't return it. It was willingly offered.

 

But, as his mother, as someone who loves his whole– I will forever miss that piece he so freely gave to you.

 

I see it missing in him, like it's been carved out. I’m afraid that if he doesn't tend to the gaping wound and rearrange his guts, he will never fully recover from it.

 

But I understand that doing that is harrowing. It would mean revisiting that pain in order to finally choose to let it go.

 

And I don't think my son is yet capable. Deep down, I suspect he's clinging to you for dear life.

 

But don't you worry. I know that piece is in there still and I will never stop trying to get it back– with or without his help.

 

That's my job, right?

 

Sometimes I'm not sure. All I know is everything was easier when you were here.

Viktor’s eyes burned, blurring the letters before him into unrecognisable shapes. 

 

His fingertips grazed the dried droplets sprinkling the page, the residues of Meni’s sadness wrinkly under his touch. 

 

The inescapable evidence of her despair threatened to break him in two. 

 

The worst part of it was that Viktor could hear her voice in his head. He deeply missed the softness in her tone whenever she called him darling. 

 

In this moment, he wished he could fall into her embrace. Or allow her to fall into his. 

 

There was so much sorrow in her words. 

 

Still, the content only confused Viktor further. Why had Jayce been so affected? He must have known his actions would have consequences, no? 

 

In all honesty, Viktor had assumed he'd moved on rather effortlessly– if anyone could make a friend without breaking a sweat, that would have been Jayce Talis. 

 

Besides, if anyone had survived having a piece of themselves being carved out, it had been Viktor. Both emotionally and physically. There was no space to consider Jayce's loss when it had been self-inflicted. 

 

Viktor couldn't make the same claim, could he? 

 

Anger, confusion, sadness– they danced in twirls inside his gut.

 

After all, you can’t really re-experience death if you never come back to life, to begin with. 

 

There was a heaviness there that Viktor was utterly lost as to how to interpret. 

 

Unlike the rest, there was a small asterisk after that particular sentence.

 

Viktor swallowed down the unwelcome emotions as his eyes darted to the bottom of the page, only to find nothing. 

 

His brows furrowed as he turned the letter over.

* PS: If you're ever curious, pay your old building a visit. There's a wonderful lady in apartment 2D called Babette. She has a story to tell. 

Viktor's gaze lingered on that footnote, reading it and re-reading it in the hopes that more information would spill from the ink.

 

But that's all there was to it. 

 

It would mean revisiting that pain in order to finally choose to let it go.

 

Hm.

 

Meni was guiding him from the grave. 

 

And Viktor, on this sunny Saturday morning, would heed her call. What else did he have to lose, anyway? 

 

Damn her and her unanticipated wisdom. 

 

Viktor folded the letter anew and slid it into his pocket. 

 

He washed, dressed, brushed his teeth, and was swiftly out the door before he could think any better of this poor choice.

 

After twenty-five minutes, he was climbing the side ramp of his old building. Everything surrounding it was just as he remembered: the lone trees, the empty shops, the deserted street, the gray semi-circular chipped steps leading to the entrance. 

 

The sameness was bittersweet.

 

Pleasant to find things as he'd left them. Unpleasant to be confronted with the reality that the poorest neighbourhoods in Zaun were not worthy of being invested in.

 

What am I doing here? 

 

But he didn't allow the uncertainty to fester. Once he was by the front door, Viktor's finger hovered for a second before pressing the white button labeled 2D .

 

“Hello?” 

 

Ah, shit.

 

For some reason, Viktor had been counting on being received with nothing. 

 

“Hello. Miss Babette?”

 

“Miss?” Her laugh was hoarse, a suggestive consequence of smoking a pack of cigarettes a day for the past twenty years. “Did Antonia put you up to this, boy?” 

 

Boy? 

 

“Eh,” Viktor let out awkwardly. “No. My name is Viktor Jedlitzka, I used to live here a few years back. I was hoping we could… converse. If you have the time.” 

 

Silence. 

 

Just when Viktor thought she'd disconnected, a harsh buzz cracked the air, and the lock clicked open. “Second floor.” 

 

Once in the foyer, the smell of corroding pipes and settled dust curled around his nostrils– which was yet another aspect of the past that remained untouched. 

 

Viktor spared a glance down the familiar corridor to his left, but didn’t linger.

 

Instead, he dragged himself up the staircase. One by one, Viktor climbed those vaxatious steps to the second floor as beads of sweat began to form in his temples.

 

Even now, after years of the same reality day after day, he couldn't help that minuscule germ, wiggling inside his brain with a semblance of humiliation. Why could this old lady manage this daily physical effort, while Viktor struggled to do it even once? 

 

The thought was swiftly discarded for the sake of prioritisation.

 

Once there, he rang the bell. 

 

Before long, the door split open just enough for a pair of slitted eyes to peek through, swarmed with a distrust that Viktor was all too familiar with. 

 

He remained unmoving, letting her analyse his peaceful stance. 

 

Eventually, he placed a hand over his chest. “My name is–” 

 

“I know who you are,” she cut him off. 

 

Babette’s skeptical gaze swept over Viktor’s figure. Once satisfied, it snapped back to his own. 

 

“Does he know you're here?” 

 

Viktor’s heart picked up speed. 

 

“No,” he replied evenly. 

 

A heavy beat passed between them.

 

“Come,” she invited, vanishing from the slitted gap. 

 

Tentatively, Viktor splayed his hand on the door and pushed it open. Upon seeing no immediate threat, he stepped inside and softly closed it behind him. 

 

“Have a seat,” Babette called from a room to his right. The layout of the apartment was fairly similar to what his place had once been– except perhaps a touch larger. 

 

Viktor abided, sidestepping the space between the sofa and the coffee table before he lowered himself onto the seat. 

 

Clattering sounds were piercing the edged atmosphere, and if Meni had been alive, Viktor might have scolded her for blindly sending him on such an uncomfortable quest. 

 

As Viktor’s eyes naturally wandered upward, his entire frame hardened. 

 

Atop Babette’s mantle, there were–

 

Jayce. 

 

Viktor recognised him in a heartbeat. 

 

A part of him wished that weren't the case, but– how could he not? 

 

The flowers were preciously unique and unmistakably crafted. That identifiable, attentive attention to detail radiated from each piece individually. 

 

Viktor’s stomach churned. 

 

He had to tamp down the need to rise, if only to brush his fingers against a petal and test whether they were as soft as they looked.

 

“You know him when you see him, ey?” Babette cut into his quiet inspection, her voice laced with a sneaky amusement.

 

She set a tray on the table, carrying to the living room a plate of cookies and two cups of tea. 

 

“They're beautiful,” Viktor murmured, catching himself off guard by the sentiment being ripped out of him. 

 

Why on earth was Jayce close friends with his neighbour from over a decade ago? 

 

It seemed so random.

 

“He's a stubborn ass,” Babette said matter-of-factly, taking a seat across from Viktor. Her head shook from side to side with a recently bloomed, faint smile as she nudged Viktor’s cup toward him. “The boy suffers from a complex to look out for everyone.” 

 

Viktor couldn't look away from the different works of art: the silver veins slithering up the stems, the venules cracking the leaves, the breathtaking finish to each corolla.

 

His throat tightened. “Not quite like that.” 

 

Here, Viktor could see it. Jayce's affection was loud in talent, yet quiet in placement. They didn't call for attention and still, unobtrusively tied the room together and brought it to life. 

 

It was the strangest contrast. 

 

Babette was smiling over the rim of her cup, her red lipstick sticking to the ceramic as she took a long sip. “You'd know, wouldn't you?” 

 

Viktor’s gaze flickered back to hers. 

 

A detestable cold sweat was slithering down his nape and coating his palms. 

 

She clearly held some information on Viktor, while he hadn't even known she'd existed. 

 

When he opened his mouth to refute the comment, the cushion on the end of his couch sank with a modest plop . 

 

He turned, and his unease stuttered to a freeze. 

 

A gray-striped cat sat on its haunches, its large blue eyes locked onto Viktor. A white splotch covered its snout, a marking that trickled down its neck, and resulted in another splash in its chest before the dark fur took over again. 

 

Viktor’s tension dissolved. 

 

The second marking resembled a bowtie.

 

Viktor's mouth softened into a smile, his tone gently melting. “Well, aren't you a fine gentleman?” 

 

The cat tilted its head, observing him with an intensity Viktor knew better than to return. He dipped his gaze, and the creature stalked toward him. 

 

“Don't. Move,” Babette warned under her breath. 

 

But Viktor was accustomed to stray cats and their wayward approaches. 

 

A pink nose twitched against his sleeve, body tightly wired and ready to bolt at any second. Slowly, Viktor lifted his forefinger in offering, and the animal wasted no time in sniffing that instead. 

 

Purring ensued. 

 

The cat nudged his digit against its snout, tail relaxedly curling as it loudly climbed onto Viktor’s lap. It sought his touch, so Viktor allowed himself to glance at the beautiful animal rubbing itself against his torso. 

 

The purring deepened, vibrating through Viktor’s ribs as he softly scratched behind its ears.

 

When he finally looked up, Babette was gaping at him. 

 

“She– she hates people,” Babette confessed in a daze, staring at her pet as if she were a stranger. 

 

Viktor chuckled. “That's quite alright.” He bent down slightly and whispered in shared secrecy, “You and I, both.”

 

The cat, as if understanding his meaning, pushed against his palm to demand further caresses, soft sounds accompanying the movement.

 

So Viktor obliged, any anxiety from before melting away in the face of the heartwarming encounter. “Does she have a name?” 

 

Babette’s expression had mellowed, coated in a novel emotion as she flickered her attention back to Viktor. “Rio.”

 

“Such a pretty name,” he told the cat with a tenderness he couldn't reel in. “I'm going to move my hand now, Rio. Don't be scared.” 

 

Unbothered, Rio's white socked paws strolled in a circle over Viktor's thighs as he eased into his pocket and retrieved Meni's letter. By the time he passed it to Babette, the cat had lain down and nestled against his stomach. 

 

Babette unfurled the letter carefully, a question drawn in her peer. 

 

Viktor waited in silence, letting the rhythm of Rio's purring fill the room. The low thrum against Viktor's skin anchored him, so he continued to gently dig his fingers into fur, and lovingly scrunched his nose at the beast whenever her eyes drifted toward him. 

 

When Babette finally looked up, her tone was heavy and quiet. “I see.” Leaving the letter on the table, Viktor noted how there was no distrust in her regard anymore– mere sadness. “How much would you like to know?” 

 

“Anything you'd be comfortable sharing.”

 

She reclined into her armchair, settling in as she pulled from her memories. 

 

“The first day I noticed him,” she started. “I didn't think much of it. It was just a boy, sitting on the floor of the downstairs corridor, probably waiting for a friend, or someone with a key to the apartment to come meet him. Went on my merry way.” 

 

Viktor's brows inched toward each other. Am I meant to know what she's talking about?

 

She took a sip from her tea and left it on the table again. 

 

“Except when I came down two days later, he was still there. Curled up on his side. Lying in the filth by your door.” Babette dipped her gaze to the coffee table. “I remember thinking, isn't that the apartment that was recently vacated? And, isn't he freezing?"

 

The vulnerable edge to her voice caused Viktor's moving fingers to pause. 

 

“I watched for a while. Waited for him to realise that no one was coming and leave. But there was no movement, no sound– just a stillness that rubbed me the wrong way. Eventually, curiosity got the best of me, and I called out to him– asked if he was alright. The boy said nothing. For a moment, I thought we might have a corpse in the middle of the hallway.” 

 

Viktor was thankful Rio had decided to make a bed out of his lap, because otherwise he wouldn't have known what to do with his hands. How to act. How to begin to unpack that last sentence that had caused his chest to squeeze. 

 

“When I found the courage to get closer, I was praying the whole way that I wouldn't be proving myself right,” Babette continued, a soft alarm to her widened eyes. “Thank Janna, his side was moving. But I tell you, boy, alive or not–” She let out a breath. “His eyes were empty. Staring into nothing. I asked him questions up close, to engage him somehow, but not a single word came out of him. When he started blinking in weird patterns, I thought he might be… demented.” She gesticulated with her hands to clarify. “You know, wrong in the head. So I left him there.” 

 

Oh, God.

 

Viktor's throat bobbed.

 

Babette stared at her scarlet-painted nails. “But it didn't sit right. I couldn't stop thinking about him. I started coming down several times a day, just to see if he'd finally gone. But every time, I found him in the exact same spot. Hugging himself.”

 

“I left him food and water, but he didn't touch ‘em. I even tried to leverage some leftover birthday cake. But he said nothing, did nothing, didn't even look at me.”

 

Viktor’s voice came out with a strain. “He was outside my apartment that whole time?” 

 

She nodded. “Wouldn't leave. Face pressed against the welcome mat, dirty clothes– it was like staring at the outer shell of a human being, without anything inside to fill it. I’d never witnessed or encountered a person like that. Or since.” 

 

Christ. 

 

You left me. 

 

The tear that had followed had been just as devastating.

 

Viktor felt the sudden urge to leave, to run, to hide, to not hear another word. To not be made further aware of this sequence of events.

 

Despite his past need for vindication, at this moment, his chest was swarmed with grief. Viktor was utterly lost as to how to process any of the words coming out of her mouth.

 

“By the fourth day, I could not bear it,” Babette added with a shaky exhale. “Someone had to be looking for him, right? He was a young boy, someone's young boy. So I went down to his level. The second I touched his hair, the kid just… fell apart. Started sobbing and sobbing, unlike anything I've ever seen. Kept saying he's gone, he's gone, over and over again.” 

 

Her voice faltered. “I didn't know what to do, or who he was talking about, so I… I held him. Let him wail in my arms. It was violent, and it broke my heart.” 

 

Viktor’s own heart was aching. 

 

Four days.

 

Four. Days. 

 

Ninety-six hours.

 

Five thousand, seven hundred and sixty minutes.

 

He shouldn't feel sympathy for that man, and still, here he was, eyes burning with the thought of a young Jayce, holding on by a thread in the hopes of conversing with someone who'd been long gone. 

 

It's his fucking fault, a voice inside Viktor said. 

 

Yes, he replied. But nobody deserves to suffer like that.

 

What about what we've suffered?

 

Viktor pressed his lips together. One does not negate the other.

 

He… Would never have imagined such a thing. Viktor’s ironclad belief in Jayce's care had evaporated from existence the moment he had seen his former partner on TV. 

 

A sharp pain sliced his mind, threatening with the headache that was becoming fairly recognisable.

 

None of it made any sense. 

 

Instead of helping Viktor form a more concrete image of the man, the story had only splintered the unruly fragments into further pieces that refused to align with one another.

 

Unavoidably, his eyes drifted back to the mantle.

 

Babette followed his line of sight. 

 

”They're birthday gifts, you see,” she whispered tenderly after a brief pause, a soft curve adorning her mouth. 

 

Ah. 

 

Jayce had crafted a new flower each year to thank her– for seeing the broken boy and helping him rise. 

 

Which meant…

 

Not only did Jayce revisit this building every year. 

 

But, in one way or another, he had a particular date on which he relived Viktor's departure.

 

That… Didn't seem insignificant. 

 

Despite Jayce having turned it into an actual celebration. From a day filled with, what seemed to be, anguish, he'd flipped it into a day of devotion toward the person who'd seen him through it.

 

That vexingly loyal, distrusting, selfless, selfish, irritatingly profound, considerate asshole . 

 

“They're truly special,” Viktor rasped, letting the purring in his lap soothe the new crack on his heart.

 

“He's a rare gem,” Babette agreed, adoration twinkling in her expression as it lingered on her flowers. “Anyway, after that, I brought him up here,–” Babette released a laborious sigh as she rose and made her way toward the kitchen. “–called his mother, and the rest is history.” 

 

Despite the coldness seeping into the rest of his body, his hands were warm as he distractedly caressed the sleeping cat.

 

Four days.

 

Four days of waiting for Viktor to return, unable to leave his apartment. Rejecting the crushing truth by staying, and staying and staying.

 

No sustenance beyond his wishful thinking. 

 

Or his inescapable reality. 

 

But the question stood.

 

Could Jayce's past grief be rooted in things Viktor was yet to understand? Revoked privileges? Loss of access? Unexpected outcome?

 

It couldn't just be because Viktor had mattered to him. Right? Considering–

 

He hadn't shown any regret. Remorse, sure– but never regret . Who would do what he did to someone they cared about? Who would justify something so unequivocally monstrous? And yet, to this day, Jayce was still as stubborn about justifying his actions.

 

I am sorry. Maybe not in the way you'd like me to be but–, he'd once told Viktor.

 

That but had felt abominable.

 

Thank you for saving my life.

Which time? 

 

What are you itching to be called, V? 

 

I envy anyone who hasn't fucking met you. 

 

Logically, if Talis showed no clear signs of regret, why would Viktor assume these pieces of the past represented anything significant? 

 

He'd come here to avoid asking Jayce directly, certain that his word was not to be trusted. 

 

Everything he'd discovered today could somehow match the man he'd once known. But not the careless, self-serving person Viktor had experienced him to be, in the end.

 

So, either Jayce was a sociopath flickering between a dozen different skins depending on what was convenient (which no longer made much sense after witnessing his suffering firsthand and have it be confirmed by two external sources), or Viktor was still missing a large chunk of information that would allow him to tie together the inconcongruent figments he'd been collecting over the last few months.

 

And while he adored puzzles, this one was particularly distressing. 

 

If Jayce had cared, why had he broken his promise and violated Viktor’s choice?

 

If Jayce hadn't cared, why had he been so profoundly affected by Viktor’s departure? 

 

Which one was it?

 

Did Viktor even want to find out? At this point, Viktor feared he would no longer be indifferent to the answer, regardless of which direction it would trail.

 

It was becoming obvious that separating the man from the scientist would be a lost battle, when what made him such a phenomenal scientist to begin with was–seemingly–the man.

 

The sound of a page ripping echoed around the apartment, and when Babette returned, there was a piece of paper between her fingers. 

 

After softly moving Rio onto the sofa, Viktor pushed himself to his feet, secured Meni’s letter, and only then approached the elderly woman awaiting him.

 

“There's an address here,” she told him. “Don't go until you're ready.” 

 

Viktor blinked. “What is it?” 

 

Babette smiled. “Another piece of him he won't tell you for himself.” 

 

With slight hesitation, Viktor accepted the paper and tucked it into his pocket, as well. 

 

Viktor's attention drifted toward the metal flowers one last time. He sighed in an attempt to release the persistent pressure crushing his chest after their conversation,

 

After a moment, his focus dragged itself back to the lovely woman before him. “I see why he cares for you so deeply.” 

 

Why Viktor had felt inclined to share such a sentiment at all with a stranger utterly baffled him. But it was beyond obvious, and she deserved to hear the words outright. 

 

Babette kept her softness intact, eyes flickering to Rio and then, right back.

 

“You and I have in common, sweetheart.” 

/// 

Considering that whenever Viktor found himself falling down rabbit holes he could not make sense of made him feel dizzy and off balance, he decided to return his full attention toward what he could control: work.

 

By Sunday morning, he was back at the lab. 

 

There was so much to do in so little time– and if they were set on having Blitzcrank choose certain aspects of themselves, Viktor had to first bring that consciousness to life. 

 

Without it, they were at a stalemate. 

 

Consequently, Viktor dove into his programming and began prioritising the baseline of the first core aspect necessary to start constructing a functional mind: A perception sensor. 

 

Given that his original idea would have required the intelligence to analyse their host, measure their vitals and comprehend the safety of their surroundings, as well as measure any potential risks, Viktor was working from an already established baseline. 

 

Now, he just had to expand that preexisting concept, adjust the A.Is ability to receive and store data, as well as incorporate all other stimuli in its direct environment without any concrete purpose other than being alive. Even if they wouldn't be able to make sense of all of it, just yet. 

 

But the bare minimum was no longer enough. Viktor wanted the entity to be able to differentiate between colors, sensations, tones, textures, so on and so forth. 

 

Without perception, there would be nothing to react to. 

 

Viktor typed in his program for hours. Set up his camera. Didn't consciously stop to eat, or drink– he worked tirelessly in an attempt to make up for being so painfully behind everyone else.

 

He couldn't stomach thinking of anything else. 

 

Next thing he knew, there was a voice. 

 

It was a voice that soothed him with immediacy, a voice he recognised as the narrator of his dreams from a lifetime ago. Morpheus reincarnated, except now it didn't lull him further into the world of floating comfort. 

 

Now, its represented unsafety snapped him awake. 

 

Good morning , it said.

 

Viktor fluttered his lids, bringing the space around him into focus. 

 

The world was tilted sideways. He was in the lab. There was a man before him. His arms were crossed, and his brow was slightly raised. 

 

His presence wasn't menacing.

 

“You do remember you have pillows to sleep on, don't you?” 

 

Ah.

 

The man was Jayce Talis. 

 

Viktor straightened, yawning while rubbing his eyes. “Get off my ass,” he let out with a gruff voice. 

 

Jayce chuckled lightly. “I bought you some coffee from the cart outside.” 

 

Viktor opened his eyes and, indeed, there was a cup waiting for him beside Lola, alongside a muffin. His gratitude came out as a grunt as he reached for the drink.

 

His gaze darted toward Jayce as he took a sip, and Viktor watched as his features softened in real time. “If I'd known you were at work yesterday, I would have come.” 

 

The taste of coffee in his tongue began to sharpen his senses, and damn this man for continuously predicting Viktor’s needs before he was even awake.

 

“It's fine. There's not much you can do to help, right now.” 

 

“Still. Did you manage to get anywhere interesting?” 

 

“Basics for now. Come take a look.” 

 

Viktor shoved down Saturday's escapade, the memories of what he'd learned suddenly pressing on his consciousness with an unexpected desire for more context. 

 

Ignoring those thoughts had become second nature. 

 

As Jayce sidestepped the desk and came to stand behind him, Viktor’s fingers typed on his keyboard to prepare the program. 

 

Once done, he opened the camera, removed the lid from his drink, and tilted it toward the screen. 

 

After a moment, some lines of text began to appear. 

 

[OBJECT DETECTED]

[STATE OF MATTER: Liquid]

[COLOR:  #3F2C2E] 

[NAME: Unknown]

 

Jayce gasped, one hand gripping Viktor's backrest while the other braced widely on his desk. 

 

“It’s not much,” Viktor confessed. 

 

“It's awesome,” Jayce corrected.

 

When Viktor drifted his attention to his lab partner, there was an infectious twinkle in his eye. He was smiling softly, and for some reason, Viktor believed him. 

 

He typed, [NAME: Coffee]. 

 

[New term integrated: Coffee], it replied. 

 

“Do another,” Jayce requested with an underlying excitement. 

 

Viktor picked up a pen and held it in front of the camera.

 

[OBJECT DETECTED]

[STATE OF MATTER: Solid] 

[COLOR: #3c4146]

[NAME: Unknown]

 

[NAME: Pen]

 

[New term integrated: Pen] 

 

“This is mind-blowing to me,” Talis confessed with a murmur and a broadened smile. “It feels like magic.” 

 

Viktor offered him a groggy smirk. “We’re just getting started.” After another sip of his coffee, he added, “Try waving close to the lens.”  

 

Carefully, Jayce lifted his hand and moved it from side to side. 

 

[MOTION DETECTED] 

[MOVEMENT: Left to right. Right to left. Repeat] 

[OBJECT: Human hand]

 

A gleeful sound came out of Jayce. “It knows its a hand!” 

 

Viktor couldn't contain the tug in his lips. “I had already programmed it to recognise human anatomy.” 

 

He clacked on his keyboard, [SEQUENCE OF MOVEMENT: Wave] 

 

[New term integrated: Wave] 

 

“Are you going to have to introduce it to each thing, one by one?” Talis wondered, the slight concern lacing his tone. 

 

Viktor sighed. “For now. I’ll come up with something more efficient soon.”

 

Jayce hummed thoughtfully, staring at the screen. 

 

And only then was Viktor awake enough to realize how close they were to each other. Jayce’s profile was a palm and a half away from his own.

 

It wasn't as uncomfortable as it had once been, but–

 

Get away, get away, get away.

 

“Hello?” 

 

The perky voice sliced through the quiet. 

 

Viktor and Jayce gaped at each other for a beat before Jayce sprang into action. He scurried out of the nook while Viktor gathered his bearings. 

 

“Sir,” he greeted brightly from a distance. “Lovely to see you.” 

 

“Jayce! There you are!”

 

“To what do we owe this pleasure?” 

 

Viktor rounded the corner. “Dr. Heimerdinger,” he said with a polite inclination of his head as he approached the moustached man. 

 

“Ah, you're both here! Lucky me.” He stepped forward, his strides short and energetic. “I came to–” 

 

The curious furrowing of his brows interrupted his speech, and he tilted his body sideways to peruse the brimming boards at the other end of the lab. 

 

To Viktor's infinite surprise, Jayce took a smooth step sideways, positioning himself right in front of Heimer as if closing ranks. The length of his arm was pressed against Viktor's side, and it burned. That simple touch brought Viktor’s nervous system to attention. 

 

Heimer's gaze flicked up to meet Jayce's. “Could it be that my boys are working together again?” 

 

Jayce smiled. “Yes, Professor. But it is a work in progress, still. Wouldn't want to introduce you to a concept that is not yet worthy of your appraisal.” 

 

Viktor swallowed his startle at the endearing understanding that Jayce was still in the habit of calling Heimer by Professor. After all of these years, and the fact that such a title kept Jayce technically beneath him– he did it, anyway. 

 

And it was obvious that Dr. Heimerdinger revelled in it. Against all odds, his eyes had sparkled with further delight. 

 

Not to mention, Talis’s innate ability to steer the conversation effortlessly to his desired destination, while seemingly flattering whomever he was maneuvering.

 

He’d always been exceptional at that. And it had always worked on everyone.

 

Well, except Viktor. 

 

Nothing sounds more tedious than having impeccable presence in your company.

 

Viktor shook the unsolicited memory away from his psyche. 

 

An animated laughter was bubbling out of Heimer as he clasped his hands together. “How exciting!” 

 

His bulgy eyes flickered between them, and Viktor tilted his lips upward to acknowledge that incomprehensible elation.

 

“I assure you, the moment it's presentable, you'll be the first to know,” Jayce added with a friendly wink. 

 

Why was Viktor feeling reassured over the fact that Jayce was going out of his way to keep Blitzcrank a secret, for now? 

 

“No matter, no matter,” Heimer assured, waving his hand between them. “When your minds align, nothing is impossible! I am very much looking forward to seeing what you two come up with. I'm certain it won't be anything short of extraordinary.”

 

“Thank you, Professor,” Viktor tried stiffly.

 

Heimer had a sharp intake of breath before his warm smile grew, and his eyes misted. 

 

Viktor couldn't help but scowl at the incoherent swell of emotion.

 

“You have been missed, my dear boy,” Heimer said gently. “I am happy to see you in such stellar condition.” 

 

Viktor had no idea how to reply to such a statement.

 

It was almost as if he were speaking of an object that had been properly upkept throughout the years. 

 

Nausea churned in Viktor's gut as he remembered why his condition was so stellar .

 

“So, tell us,” Jayce interjected, conveniently coming to the rescue. He leaned in ever so slightly, once more inadvertently redirecting Heimer's attention back to himself. “What can we do for you today?” 

 

“I was coming to give you this.” He reached into his bag and pulled out a flier. “From here until the end of the competition, the Academy will be holding Galas to commemorate this upcoming achievement. Here are the dates and themes.” 

 

Viktor couldn't hold his grimace as he watched Jayce pluck it from Heimer’s offering grip. 

 

“Professor,” Jayce started with a solemn tone. “We have a lot of work to do. Is there any way–” 

 

Heimer had already turned to leave. “Mandatory for all participants, my boy! There will be photographers at the venues for the sake of prosperity– we can't have missing contestants. See you soon!” 

 

Both of them stood there frozen, side by side, staring at that damning piece of paper. 

 

“We're gonna have to make up for that loss of time,” Jayce murmured once he heard the door of the lab click shut. 

 

“Mhm,” Viktor agreed. “We'll come up with something.” 

 

Still, neither of them moved. 

 

“You are… Very good at that,” Viktor shared quietly. 

 

“At what?” 

 

“Taking the lead in conversation.” 

 

Jayce gave him a soft smile. “We each have our strengths.” He tilted the paper in Viktor's direction. “The first one is this Friday.”

 

“I suppose…” Viktor sighed, finally finding the motor control over his limbs to step away from that unnerving body heat wanting to slither against him. One he'd taught himself to recoil to. “I suppose that means we should get a new calendar.” 

 

Unavoidably, the suggestion unfurled Talis’s smile even further.

 

“I suppose it does.” 

/// 

While Viktor worked on his program, Jayce had taken to designing the electrical circuit for the suit. Sitting still was not an option, and even though they both were eager to allow Blitzcrank to choose their own dimensions and priorities, they were both painfully aware that the situation at hand was severely limited in time. 

 

Truth be told, Viktor was quite calm about the impending countdown. 

 

If he were doing this on his own, sure, he wouldn't have even considered it. 

 

But doing it with someone else allowed him to focus on what he was good at, while releasing any need to be on top of everything else. It was reposeful. 

 

Which was dissonant considering the other person he was leaning on for this to come together was, well. Him.

 

Several times a day, Jayce would pop by Viktor's work station to run by his latest ideas. 

 

It was not bothersome. It was almost natural. 

 

A vibrant exception, since Viktor wanted to know about them all. 

 

“Hey, I'm doing a list of materials we would need to get the circuit built. Can you take a look? Let me know if you'd like to add any, yourself.” Talis suggested one day. 

 

“Sure.” 

 

After a swift glance, Viktor grabbed a pen from his desk and jotted down a few additions, already thinking of the CPU he'd almost finished designing. 

 

He handed over the list, and without lifting his eyes from the computer screen, he added, “You should buy them in Zaun. They'll give you a better price.” 

 

“You know, I used to think so too,” he mused, perusing over Viktor's additions. “But last time I went, it was far more expensive than I'd anticipated.” 

 

Viktor seized his clacking and arched a brow in his direction. “Where did you go?” 

 

“Um. Do you remember that shop where you had the, uh– the chips created, for the app you made for me?” 

 

Viktor blinked. 

 

Don't feel, don't think, don't dwell, don't ask, don't, don't, don't, he demanded of himself. There's nothing for you in those memories.

 

“Yes?” He replied with forced nonchalance. 

 

Jayce pressed his lips. “Right. Well, across the street, there's a tech store.” 

 

“Aha, I know the one.” Viktor tilted his head. “What did you buy and for how much?” 

 

The moment Jayce shared his purchase, Viktor stared at him with a lethal deadpan. 

 

His lips began to twitch, to beg to turn upwards. 

 

To hide it from Jayce, he turned his features to his monitor. “Yeah, you were ripped off.” 

 

Jayce blinked. 

 

Then, his face fell. 

 

“What?!” 

 

Viktor was definitely–unavoidably–smiling now. “How could you think those three pieces could have that high a cost?!” 

 

“I don't know!” Jayce’s mouth had gone slack, but the mirth in his eyes upon seeing Viktor’s clear amusement was hard to miss. “I assumed people doing business would be honest!” 

 

Viktor snorted. “That's the most nonsensical thing I've ever heard you say.” 

 

A broad smile cracked through. “That's a tall order.”

 

“The tallest.” 

 

Jayce rested his knuckles on his hips, the perfect picture of stern complaint. “Well, excuse me for thinking the best of people. How's this on me!?”

 

“Cause’ you're the one bleeding money and getting swindled,” Viktor replied automatically, swift fingers tapping on keys. Then, he gave Talis a pointed look. “I'm not trusting you with any of my funds, by the way.” 

 

Jayce’s jaw dropped, and he placed a slow hand above his heart. “I'm wounded.” 

 

Viktor returned to his program. “Wounded or not, tell me the next time you go so I can save you from yourself.” 

 

Jayce scoffed, despite the mirth still curving his mouth. “You're babysitting me, now?” 

 

Viktor didn’t acknowledge him further after admitting in a monotonic tone, “Someone clearly has to.” 

 

There was no denying that the animosity between them had taken a backseat for the sake of their collaboration, and Viktor was no longer gripping it as a lifeline. 

 

These days, he was content to set it aside, given that efficiency was one of their top priorities. 

 

It unsettled him that the anger was nowhere to be found in the lab. In fact, he'd stopped feeling it during circumstances where he had never managed to avoid it– such as anytime he caught a glimpse of his upper chest in the mirror. 

 

He had grown accustomed to avoiding them for that very same reason. 

 

But that momentary truce prompted him to continue thinking of next steps for his coding, next processes– Viktor sought out any other aspects of Blitzcrank to occupy every crevice of his mind. 

 

And for now, that would do just fine.

/// 

 

 

Jayce was coming face to face with yet another new struggle.

 

Something unexpected was slowly filtering into his will whenever he was distracted enough to simply be himself. 

 

Which was apparently becoming the new normal. 

 

He wasn't entirely sure what happened inside his brain, for whenever he caught a glimpse of Viktor, all of the carefully designed layers hammered out to preserve his fragile self peeled away, leaving his beating heart out in the open for his lab partner to associate with as he pleased. 

 

Jayce was a fool. 

 

Of the stupidest kind, and that redundancy was not nearly cruel enough. 

 

And yet, he couldn't help it, either. Anything but felt intrinsically wrong. 

 

He'd been hoping that being all in could still include some modest tools of self-preservation. 

 

But it was growing clearer that, hand in hand with his chase of Viktor's friendship, came a reversion to much of his former self. Despite being unwelcome, as well as uninvited.

 

Yet, Jayce was becoming fatigued of pretending his devotion was not a pulsating being, of dressing it down in detailed camouflage for the profound shame of knowing it had always been there. 

 

The only reason Jayce even minimised it in front of Viktor at this point was to avoid causing any further damage.

 

And if its existence only served to fuel Viktor’s distaste for him, then, so be it. As long as he was present, Jayce was content. That's all he'd ever really wanted, anyway. That's all he needed to keep his promise and maintain himself accessible to dismount any bricks.

 

Them. 

 

In the same room. 

 

But of course, this came hand in hand with a new set of problems. See, the last time Jayce had felt his essence brimming with life and left his guard down around Viktor, he'd behaved fairly differently. 

 

And, it would seem, his mind was eager to pick up precisely where it had left off. 

 

The moment Jayce released any grip on his focus and allowed his mind to fall down the different scientific spirals posed by their conversations over their fascinating project, new impulses were panickingly snapping him back to attention. 

 

The need to place a hand on a lower back. The instinct to squeeze a shoulder or a knee. The desire to flick a nose or ruffle hair.

 

What. A. Nightmare . 

 

Resembling a child without any sense of composure or control, his body was naturally inclined to reach out to Viktor, as it once had. As if by discussing their ideas and sailing toward this new venture had painstakingly evoked in his subconscious a certainty saying, it's our friend, you see? Remember him? We like him. This is what comes naturally to us, around him. 

 

Except–

 

DON'T TOUCH ME. 

 

That brutal slap of Jayce's hand during their final encounter still rang to this day. 

 

Just because Jayce was coming to terms with what he could no longer avoid, did not equate to Viktor feeling any differently himself. 

 

After all, regardless of their eased interactions, that mountain of pain caused by Jayce hadn't vanished simply because they were talking. 

 

And Jayce’s top priority was Viktor's comfort.

 

Consequently, Jayce had taken to crossing his arms over his chest anytime the urge to touch him made an untimely appearance. The mere thought of disgust exuding from Viktor's features made Jayce inclined to cut his hands off entirely. 

 

A compulsion he'd had to harshly tear out of himself when he'd found Viktor asleep on his desk, Monday morning.  

 

Or one he was currently dampening as he rounded the corner of Viktor's nook with buzzing excitement. 

 

“I may have had a brilliantly terrible idea.” 

 

Viktor slid his eyes toward him, his body following to offer his full attention. 

 

“That sounds right up your alley. Do tell.” 

 

“Ha, ha,” Jayce chastised. “Okay, so you know how when people are doing CGI characters or animating videogames, they wear those body suits with sensors on them?” 

 

“I'm afraid you've immediately lost me,” Viktor admitted. 

 

“Urgh,” Jayce let out impatiently. He nodded curtly to Viktor's laptop. “Look it up.” 

 

Viktor got to it at once, and given his wonderful ability to multitask, Jayce continued with his explanation. “I was thinking– we could invest in one, if tying the input to Blitzcrank would be a possibility. Give me a headset so that I can talk directly to the program. Not only would that expedite their learning, but it would make it organic . They would internalise the strength needed for a grasp, how to move their muscles to walk, or run, or jump, or– you get my point. They could use my form of speech as a baseline and start understanding how to communicate naturally. That way, you don't have to go movement by movement, word for word– we can record all of that data at once and protect whatever teachings we want to assert. Which I’m assuming will be much harder if we just have Blitzcrank scour the internet for answers.” 

 

Viktor was staring into the distance, lost in concrete thought. “That's… Not a bad idea.” 

 

Jayce bit his tongue, considering his first urge for some stupid reason had been to swerve toward their newly bought mutual calendar and scribble, Viktor said J had a ‘not bad’ idea.  

 

And the existence of that impulse was profoundly bittersweet. 

 

“It could help them bond to us, too.” Viktor’s finger was tapping on the table. Then, his decided eyes fiercely landed on Jayce. “Buy it. Bring me the receipt.” 

 

Yes!  

 

Deep down, the most pressing reason behind this proposition was Jayce’s fervent desire to spend more time with Viktor. To have an excuse to work together , and not each on their own endeavor. To help him while hopefully adding some fun to the tedious process. 

 

“What size should I get?” 

 

A tiny smirk blossomed in Viktor’s mouth. “Yours.” He turned his screen with a creak, showing a neon green body suit that covered its host from head to toe. “I'd like to see you with this on.”

 

Jayce snorted. “If I hadn't suggested it, I'd say that's borderline cruel.” 

 

“Why?” Viktor asked unaffected. His elegant finger pointed toward the screen. “It matches your punitive hat.”  

 

Jayce rolled his eyes and shook his head disapprovingly, but his smile widened. He turned to leave and muttered over his shoulder, "You're obsessed.” 

///

Jayce was mid-conversation with Reveck and two glasses of wine into the soiree when something caught his eye. 

 

Well, rather someone. 

 

He did a double-take, his attention ensnared by a flash of translucent skin, winking at him from across the room. 

 

They were wearing a cherry red satin shirt, one that mutedly reflected the warm lights bathing the grand room. Effortlessly elegant, the garment draped over pointed shoulder pads, flowing loosely over arms, and nestling an absurdly narrow torso. A lace hugged the person's throat and comfortably circled their nape.

 

Below was nothing.

 

The alluring shirt opened just beneath such a collar, fabric falling into an oval window that gave way to the graceful arch of a bare back. 

 

That's when they smiled over their shoulder, tilting their head to greet the new person joining their conversation. 

 

Jayce's mouth went dry. 

 

Fuck me sideways, Jayce groaned into his own mind, exasperation mercilessly surging to the surface. Of all people, why him?

 

Jayce had already made peace with being met with distaste for his steadfast resolve, why did Viktor have to jumble the mess in his head by being eye-catching, too? 

 

Viktor's mane was pinned up, the line of his neck emerging from the roots of his hair– a style that only elongated his physique. Two wavy strands cupped his complexion, which had softened as he nodded to whatever the newcomer was saying.

 

Jayce darted his eyes away at once, eager to avoid being caught oggling– as Jinx had once suggested.

 

But the voices around him muffled, and all Jayce could perceive was his heart, thum-thum-thumping inside his ribcage in warning. And, yes, fine, also, maybe, some forbidden curiosity stirring within.

 

Coworkers could find other coworkers attractive and still mean nothing by it. Right?

 

Besides, what did that human being expect?! To miraculously bring Jayce’s inner self back to life and then demand he not notice their raw beauty? Especially when they dressed like that!? 

 

Jayce was but one man.

 

His brows knitted together, eyes pinned to the wine he was currently too busy swirling in his glass. Yet, the only image that looped was that delicate curvature of an indented spine, teasing him to return.

 

As Jayce lifted his glass to his lips, his gaze inevitably flickered back across the room.

 

Belt cinching a slim waist. Black slacks. Elongated fingers circling a wine glass. Sharp jawline. High cheekbones. Black wooden cane.

 

Each detail was seared into Jayce's brain.

 

Everybody else in the room became fuzzy, and all Jayce could see was that patch of translucent incitement. 

 

The fact that Viktor was here at all also prompted his chest to flutter. Jayce couldn't remember the last time he'd come to one of these events and hadn't felt–concealed underneath the layered depths of his public persona–utterly alone. 

 

And even though they were still getting the hang of the natural flow of their interactions, even though Jayce couldn't affirm them to be anything but begrudging colleagues–

 

For a brief moment, he was overwhelmed with profound gratitude. 

 

Because even if Viktor hated him for eternity, to Jayce… To Jayce, he was a promise of home. A home of himself, within himself– regardless of where Jayce was or who he was surrounded by.

 

Which was a strange concept to have unknowingly associated with another human being. One that didn't particularly care whether Jayce breathed or not, as long as he got his side of the job done. 

 

But that was quite alright. Jayce didn't need anything, didn't want anything– as long as Viktor breathed (preferably, in his vicinity), that was the extent of his wishes.

 

Still, the unsolicited thought popped by unannounced. 

 

Does he have moles back there, too? 

 

Jayce hummed to himself. 

 

I could… go check.

 

No! Jayce rattled his head, breaking the contact. Stop being weird, fuck. 

 

Unfortunately, his greedy eyes tiptoed their way back to that beautifully cruel display of skin.

 

I can't tell from here. 

 

Jayce began to chew on his lower lip.

 

This is not primordial information to befriend him , he reminded himself.

 

He cocked his head.

 

What if they find a body one day, and the only way to identify it is through its back? He negotiated. It could be pertinent, then. Responsible, even.

 

Jayce shuddered, shaking off the horrendous spiraling logic infesting his head. 

 

What is wrong with me?

 

Then again, his mind had never been one to listen. It was already off its leash.

 

I could just stand to the side and take a peek while he's occupied. 

 

God, I sound like a predator. 

 

I'm definitely staying put.

 

Before that thought concluded, Jayce zeroed in on a wayward hand, fingers circling Viktor's forearm and squeezing with an easy formality. The other man threw his head back and laughed, delighted over Viktor's probable remark.

 

A wave of heat travelled down Jayce’s nape, tightening the grip on his wineglass.

 

What's so funny? 

 

Jayce was well aware of how clever Viktor was, of how his wit could spark an enticing conversation, but he… He was unaccustomed to seeing others appreciate it, too. 

 

A very ugly feeling coiled inside Jayce's stomach because, in that moment, he was profoundly envious of that stranger. For being allowed to touch Viktor. For being allowed to laugh next to him. For having no history to atone for before getting to know him. 

 

Viktor hadn't even acknowledged Jayce's presence or glanced once in his miserable direction.

 

And somehow, that stung the worst. 

 

“Mr. Man of Progress,” a male voice greeted. “Have you been introduced to Torman Horkel?” 

 

Jayce blinked himself back into the present. Reflexively, he smiled, hiding the cringe he still experienced upon hearing that title, and extended his hand. “I haven't had the pleasure, hello.” 

 

And so the night continued.

///

This whole event was an incarnated nightmare. 

 

The fact that tonight's theme was Piltovian Colours was not helping, either.

 

It was as if Viktor were surrounded by piranhas and he either pretended to be one of them, or found himself getting eaten alive. 

 

He was attempting the former. 

 

But little by little, he could feel his energy draining out of his body, sucked out after every minimal interaction he was forced to participate in. The fatigue was creeping in, which only worsened the chronic pains along his body. 

 

Minutes dragged by, pictures were taken, and the buzz of the alcohol coursing in his veins was urging him to retire. 

 

Viktor had had a momentary lapse at one point, where he'd wondered where his lab partner was, and why he hadn't approached to say hello. 

 

At least with Talis, he'd have something interesting to talk about. Perhaps he could suggest they stay together during these Galas so they could discuss their project further and continue to work without detection. 

 

But Viktor swiftly decided the distance was in his best interest.

 

Everything was confusing enough as it was. 

 

I see why he cares for you so deeply.

You and I have that in common, sweetheart.

 

Indeed, it was best not to take any chances.

 

At some point during the night, Viktor caught on to a flash of platinum blonde. 

 

And for some incomprehensible reason, his heart startled into a sprint and pressed up against his throat. 

 

In a knee-jerk reaction, Viktor ducked.

 

Shit, shit, shit–

 

He hadn't prepared for this interaction. God, how could he have been so stupid as not to expect it? So distracted as to be unprepared?

 

Where else would he find the devil if not in fucking hell?

 

The reassuring confidence he'd always leaned on fizzled out in a second, and instead, Viktor was transported back to a mentality resembling that of a child.

 

Which was something that didn't use to happen. Before.

 

So painfully unlike him, and yet irritatingly out of his control. 

 

Smoothly, he crossed the room to an opening in the wall. He parted the curtains draping its entrance and slithered inside, a shadow slipping by undetected.

 

On the other side, he found an empty bar, abandoned stools neatly organised in a row. To his right was a wooden table pressing against the closest wall. He neared the darkness and the solace it promised, moved past the furniture, and plastered himself against the wall. 

 

The chill surface spread across his bare back, grounding him through the fastened rise and fall of his chest. His system was responding as if he'd caught a sight of a ravenous vulture amidst his peers.

 

Just the thought of talking to that vile man again churned his stomach to the point of vertigo.

 

“Viktor, are you in hiding?” A conspicuous voice whispered into the secluded space. “And if so, can I join?” 

 

Viktor couldn't explain it– he couldn't even understand it himself. But his lungs were aching with effort, and even though his hand was firmly splayed between them, it was not helping in the slightest. 

 

Soft steps approached until an imposing silhouette softly settled between Viktor and the table. 

 

“What's wrong?” Jayce inquired, his voice threaded with that wretched tenderness Viktor had been irritatingly trained to soothe himself upon perceiving. 

 

Viktor steered his alarm toward him.

 

Jayce truly towered over him. Leaning his shoulder against the wall, his arms casually folded over his chest. His brows were pinched atop a discernible concern that darted all over Viktor’s features. It searched for an answer that he was clearly in no position to offer. 

 

I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. 

 

I don't understand why it's affecting me. 

 

“Dr. Talis?” A clipped voice echoed. It resembled the one Viktor had slipped out of sight to avoid.

 

Viktor's eyes went wide as he recognised it, rushed by flashbacks of a time he clearly hadn't managed to dismiss. 

 

He was trapped. 

 

A feral animal, cornered and with no way out. 

 

His hand pressed harder against his chest, as if that could shrink him.

 

It was pathetic. Viktor was tempted to be enraged over his lack of composure. 

 

Whether Jayce caught on to Viktor’s subsequent reaction was unknown, but he acted instantly. In a swift movement, he swirled in place, turning his back to Viktor and facing the entryway. 

 

“Mr. Salo,” Jayce greeted calmly. 

 

He couldn't see anything over Jayce's broad shoulders, but Viktor's body stilled, his breath was taken hostage in his throat, and his brain went completely blank. 

 

“Here you are,” Salo said. There was a heavy pause. “Have you taken to isolating to converse with yourself amidst a party?” A cold laughter broke out, ringing through the air. “Oh, how the mighty have fallen.” 

 

“I quite enjoy my own company,” Jayce replied lightly. “It’s a shame not everyone can say the same. How can I help you?” 

 

Another silent beat. 

 

“I was looking for your partner when I saw you come in here. Have you seen him?” 

 

Jayce hummed. “I think the last time I caught a glimpse of him, he was heading toward the balcony.” 

 

Oh, my God.

 

Jayce was… Shielding him!?

 

A soft chuckle. “Good. I would have words with him.” 

 

Partner.

 

It had been so long since Viktor had heard that word, let alone have it be associated with the massive man standing next to him.

 

The polite smile in Jayce’s mouth was noticeable by tone alone. “Best of luck, in that case.”

 

There was no response but a tense silence. 

 

“I see you've let yourself go,” Salo added, his venom casual. “An ape would have a better comb than you, at this point.” 

 

“I'll be sure to ask for grooming tips whenever I cross one.” Another palpable beat. “So– do you have any tips?”

 

And despite Viktor’s unrecognisable stupor, something within was inclined to break into laughter. 

 

“You're my greatest disappointment,” Salo hissed, the sharp voice finally matching his persona. “I gave you everything on a silver platter; you could have had success for the rest of your life. A face people would have forever associated with progress. I gave you a job, a title, notoriety. I invested in you, and what did you do with that golden ticket? You squandered it. For what? To look like a vagrant? To publish nothing?” A scoff filled with disgust pierced the quiet. “You're not one tenth of the man I thought I saw in you.” 

 

Is… Is this the kind of treatment Jayce had had to endure for all those years? 

 

Oh, Jayce. 

 

“I'm flattered to occupy so much space in your busy mind, Salo. I, for one, have no thoughts of you at all,” Jayce responded without missing a beat. “Now, if you'll excuse me– you're intruding in my conversation with myself.” 

 

“Stupid boy,” Salo spat under his breath. 

 

Then, resolved steps faded away. 

 

Jayce slowly pivoted to face Viktor anew. “Sorry about that.” Worried hazel scanned his eyes. “Are you okay?” 

 

Viktor stared into him, surprise, gratefulness, and alarm, all concocted together in a single stare. 

 

He couldn't allow himself to voice the vulnerability, so instead , Viktor gently sunk his shaky finger in the middle of Jayce's chest, ensuring his cadence was clear. Those vigorous curves swallowed much of his digit before Viktor found bone.

 

Jayce’s eyes dropped to Viktor's hand, breath catching in surprise.

 

Viktor quickly pulled back to finish signing, ‘Are you okay?’

 

Jayce's features softened further, mouth curving faintly. “I'm fine,” he murmured. 

 

They held each other's gaze, Viktor’s head tilted up to measure any hidden truths tucked behind Jayce’s soothed expression. 

 

He found nothing but a calm resolution.

 

It was impossible to decipher. The stranger. The friend. His betrayer. His protector. All of it tangling into a massive incognito with the shape of an infuriating man.

 

After so many naked discussions, the stranger was thinning, and yet simultaneously intact. 

 

“I need to get out of here,” Viktor whispered with a self-permissioned edge. 

 

Out of this room, out of Salo’s vicinity, out of being inches apart from the man who'd, once again, used his body to keep Viktor safe. 

 

“Unseen.” 

 

A smirk ticked in Jayce's lips. “I got it covered. Wait for the distraction to sneak out.”

 

Viktor shook his head lightly. “Distraction? What dis– Jayce!” 

 

But the man was already vanishing through the curtains. 

 

Viktor stood mortified, sharpening his listening skills while in a reluctantly expectant paralysis. 

 

Around three minutes after the fact, a glass clunked in the distance. 

 

“Good evening! Hello, if I could have your attention, please.” 

 

Oh, Christ help me.

 

“I am profoundly honored today to be surrounded by such extraordinary minds. To be in this room, among peers leading the search to revolutionise tomorrow, is nothing short of an immeasurable compliment. As you know, I worked with Chancellor for over three years, and I'm proud to announce that its fierce leader is among us here today!” 

 

The room erupted into applause, and Viktor peeked through the drapes. Every back in the room was facing him as the guests redirected their attention to Jayce. 

 

This was his chance.

 

“We are all profoundly grateful to every investor gracing these walls. We appreciate your dedication to protecting our future and to ensuring the Academy continues to lead in technological advancements. I know Mr. Salo has prepared a speech for us that reflects those very ideals, so allow me to welcome him to share his wisdom and give us a proper send-off to the final months ahead.” 

 

Crouched, Viktor slunk out of the sala through a side door, swiftly sneaking out before anyone could raise a brow. 

 

Once outside, he pressed himself against the degree of separation, deeply amused by Jayce’s idea of a distraction.

 

More applause followed, until a weary voice wafted from beyond. 

 

“Ah, yes. Thank you, Dr. Talis,” he acknowledged. “I am… Happy… To be here. There's much talent in this room!” 

 

There was a delicious, awkward pause after his overenthusiastic remark. 

 

“From… Physicists, to… Builders… And mathematicians, of course! You're a whole lot,” he chuckled nervously. 

 

In that moment, Jayce slipped through the cracked door and into the hall, as well. His eyes widened when they came into contact with Viktor, who’d been patiently waiting for Jayce to join him.

 

Viktor was already smiling at him. He lifted his index finger and pressed it against his lips, which lit a gleam of mischief in Jayce's eyes. 

 

Jayce settled next to him, softly leaning over Viktor's shoulder to come closer to the slit on the door.

 

“I am! Personally, of course, looking forward to. Enthusiastically. To see what each of you comes up with. Innovation awaits!” 

 

And just when Viktor thought it was over, his overzealous tongue continued.

 

“As my father used to say, life… Is a lemon. You, ah– you make what you can squeeze out of it.” His unsure, snobby chuckle echoed in the quiet room.

 

Viktor rotated his head slowly, meeting Jayce's goggled eyes. Viktor pressed his palm against his smiling mouth in a show of shocked horror. Jayce's brows had shot up to his hairline, and he was pressing his upturned lips so tightly they were turning white. 

 

“Lemonade. Who doesn't like lemonade, ey? Go make some!” A lone cough in the distance. “If… you're so inclined, of course. Hopefully, nobody here is allergic.” 

 

Jayce failed to hold in his snort, and Viktor's hand instinctively flew to cover his mouth instead. Jayce jolted slightly, but immediately kept himself perfectly still, the twinkle in his gaze deepening. 

 

“Anyway, I'm sure you will make us all very proud. Plow away, I say.”

 

The acclamation was slightly reluctant, tepid at best, which was exquisite on its own. 

 

Slowly, Viktor lowered his hand from Jayce’s mouth with a slight tremble, only to uncover a smile of utter disbelief. 

 

One Viktor was uncontrollably mirroring. 

 

Their eyes were agape, locked into one another, gleaming with a recognition that sparked an irrepressible feeling.

 

Viktor was the first to break. 

 

His shoulder bumped against Jayce's arm as his feet urged him down the hallway, the overflowing delight spilling out of him in breathless huffs.

 

Jayce’s footsteps were close behind, and by the time they rounded the corner, he'd caught up. 

 

Upon hearing Viktor's muffled laughter, his smile widened and widened, splitting his face into the biggest grin Viktor had seen to date. 

 

“That was,” Viktor managed between breaths, ”the best–kind of trainwreck–I could have hoped for.” 

 

And those words seemed to trigger something in Jayce as well, because whatever mirth he'd been forcibly caging inside himself suddenly burst into the open.

 

It was full, abundant, and unbelieving. 

 

“I knew,” his voice cracked, “I knew he was a bad improviser, but nothing–could have prepared me–”

 

Boundless, Viktor was bent over his already aching stomach. “Are you–are you allergic to lemonade?” 

 

Jayce barked out a laugh so hard it rumbled through the corridor, which only fed into Viktor's jubilation.

 

“He's gonna wake up–in the middle of the night–in cold sweats–thinking–about that.” 

 

Viktor threw his head back and guffawed because there was no denying that truth. “You are fucking evil.” 

 

Their pitches rose and broke over their mutual hysterics.

 

“Place–your bets. Will it,” Viktor's laughter burst out of him, rudely interrupting. “Will it–replay in his head? Or will he–forget every single–disastrous word–that just came out–of his mouth?” 

 

Jayce stumbled, effortfully zig-zagging down the empty hall, limb clutching his abdomen as he laughed and laughed and laughed. “Innovation awaits!” he mockingly imitated, index finger pointed upward as tears streaked down his face. 

 

Viktor’s eyes burned with effort, while his shoulders shook mercilessly. 

 

“I am! Enthusiastically,” Viktor’s last word was unintelligible, given the uncontrollable wheezing that ensued. 

 

Jayce's brows shot up at the sound coming out of Viktor's throat, his smiling mouth opening in shocked surprise before an exploding cackle came out of it. Viktor wasn't sure when it had happened, but he was clutching Jayce's forearm for support, given his blurry vision and dizziness.

 

They were tumbling in circles, the slapping of body parts accompanying the scrunching aches of their organs, bending at the waist in unison as their joy mingled– entwining into a living, fiercely independent organism.

 

Viktor commanded his hand to wipe his own cheeks. 

 

Gasping for air, Jayce loosened his red tie and popped open the top of his shirt. “Cadence, his mortal nemesis.” 

 

“Don't worry,” Viktor heaved once they began to move toward the exit anew. “He's surrounded by physicists and builders–” 

 

But there was no finishing any sentence. The euphoria surged back to life unannounced and robbed both of them of any sense.

 

“Please,” Viktor croaked as they finally burst into the open air. “Please tell me something came out of that shit I did before I left.” 

 

And even though they were no longer saying anything particularly amusing in the moment, Viktor recognised that a part of their brain had been activated where everything had become uncontrollably hilarious. 

 

Viktor blamed the wine.

 

Jayce was breathing heavily, hands firmly planted on his knees as he attempted to reel in his dying laughter. “W-what shit?” 

 

Viktor paused as he wiped his fingers under his eyes, waiting for Jayce to feel ready to walk again. 

 

“I may or may not,–” A chortle erupted and Viktor ran that hand down his face. “I may or may not have installed a bunch of malware into Salo's computer and,” Viktor huffed, glee bubbling out of him despite the burning in his lungs. Jayce’s eyes were darting over Viktor’s exultation and chuckling alongside it, even though it was clear he was not fully following. “–and had it traced back to a horrific pornsite,” he finished with an untamable high pitch.

 

Jayce's brows pinched upward upon hearing Viktor's strained tone, incredulous joy stuttering out a whistled laughter. His shaky voice aligned with his trembling shoulders. “Y-You d-id w-ha-at?” 

 

And then, utterly unexpectedly, he snapped into his full height with an enormously loud, incriminatingly prolonged intake of breath. 

 

“THAT WAS YOU?” 

 

Viktor was nodding, palm covering his mouth in suffocated vindication. 

 

At that, Jayce officially, blindly, wholeheartedly– lost it. 

 

He howled.  

 

People strolling through the Academy grounds glanced in their direction, poignantly perplexed about what could possibly be so funny. 

 

But they wouldn't understand. The moment had taken a life of its own. 

 

“You collapsed–the entire company," Jayce said while effortfully drawing breath. He schooled his features into a massive grin, joyful eyes dancing toward Viktor as if he couldn’t believe his ears. “I worked overtime for weeks to help them restore their image, you sadistic fuck!” 

 

And, of course, that only heightened Viktor’s hysteria, coming back with a vengeance and a barking laughter. 

 

He couldn't remember the last time he'd heard such a sound come out of him. It was like remeeting a stranger. 

 

“I–was feeling–petty,” he huffed. 

 

The laughter slowly died down as they strolled in tandem toward the faraway street, gathering their bearings through a side path of the Academy gardens. 

 

“God, every time he thought he'd fixed it, his system would break again,” Jayce snickered, removing his tie entirely as he fanned himself. “And don't even get me started on how many clients jumped ship after those emails. Oh, my God. Until the day I left, we still referred to that disaster as The Month of Doom. It was forbidden to mention around Salo; he lost his absolute shit every time.”

 

Viktor inhaled shakily through his mouth, his widened smile still in place. “If you're expecting me to regret it, I'd say best to wait while seated.” 

 

“Regret it?” Jayce asked incredulously, mirth still drenching his tone. “You're my fucking hero, man.” 

 

Instinctively, Viktor looked up at Jayce.

 

His eyes were glistening, life lines birthing canals away from his eyes. That infamous grin, warmly welcoming him. 

 

Yet what lurked beneath that acknowledgement speared Viktor right through the chest. 

 

The uninhibited genuineness shaping it caused Viktor's lips to slacken slowly, his heart confusedly thumping with a melody he'd heard before.

 

That hazel was filled with something unnameable, beautifully innocent while profoundly intense.  

 

Viktor dropped his focus on his moving shoes. 

 

He'd forgotten. 

 

Forgotten this wasn't his Jayce.

 

Forgotten he was meant to be furious. 

 

Forgotten he wasn't supposed to find humor in Jayce working for that man as a result of his duplicity. Of his treason.

 

Worse still, Viktor was in no position to analyse that look. Perceiving it alone threatened a new cataclysm that was already bursting at the seams. 

 

“I think it's time to go home,” Viktor finally announced, an interlaced edge in his tone that hadn't been there before.

 

He didn't dare shift his attention to Jayce, but his voice sobered when he softly replied, “I'd drive you, but I shouldn’t get behind the wheel just yet. Let me get you a cab.” 

 

Viktor could perfectly find a ride on his own. Still, he said nothing.

 

As they strolled together toward the road, Viktor caught Jayce opening and closing his mouth a fair number of times. 

 

Which was one more confusing reality to add to the pile. 

 

When he'd been young and insecure, it'd been comprehensible. But at this age? It just gave Viktor the impression that he was swifting through a wide variety of skins to pick the one most suitable to wear around Viktor.

 

Which caused a malaise to crawl under his skin.

 

“Why do you do that?” Viktor asked abruptly, letting the last of his buzz drive the words. 

 

Jayce glanced his way. “Do what?” 

 

They stopped at the edge of the curb, the side street to the Academy heavenly quiet. 

 

Viktor tilted his head, eyes now curiously scrutinising him.

 

“Filter yourself.” 

 

Jayce's lips parted in surprise. His palm rose to the back of his neck as that expression in his mouth melted into a wary grimace. 

 

“I've noticed that, I– I push you away sometimes when I say the first thing that comes to mind.” He briefly chewed on his lower lip. “I hate it.” 

 

Oh?

 

Jayce sighed, head bowing faintly. “It's becoming clearer that I've– I've hurt you and I’m trying… I'm trying not to deepen that wound.” 

 

It's becoming clearer?

 

Had it not been obvious? 

 

Hurt couldn't even begin to measure.

 

But the rawness in his tone drenched Viktor in blissful calm.

 

I'm trying.

 

The conversation he'd exchanged with Babette came to mind.

 

Viktor hummed under his breath. 

 

“Because… You care?”

 

Jayce blinked. Shifted his feet. When his gaze returned, it radiated with a magnitude too difficult to pick apart. 

 

He merely nodded. 

 

Viktor’s brows furrowed as he studied him. 

 

“You're being earnest.” 

 

It wasn't posed as a question, even if Viktor felt it as such from within. 

 

Jayce pursed his lips and affirmed with his head once more. 

 

Viktor let out a harsh exhale tinged with exasperation. “Why? We are nothing to each other.” 

 

Jayce winced. 

 

The unforeseen reaction prompted the crease between Viktor’s eyebrows to deepen.

 

Jayce visibly swallowed, eyes shot and downcast. 

 

“You were never nothing,” he murmured with dejection. “Not to me.”

 

Viktor kept his focus pinned on the man, his stomach coiling with unease. “What was I, then? Besides the unwilling sacrifice to your fucked-up decisions .” 

 

Hazel snapped up to meet him, and Viktor almost took a step back at the disarray of emotions exuding within. 

 

Still, he stubbornly stood his ground. 

 

“Viktor,” Jayce rasped. “You were my favorite person.” 

 

A bewildered scoff escaped him. “How can I believe you?” Viktor spat out, gaze hardening. “I don't even know you.” 

 

Jayce’s throat bobbed. “Of course you know me, Viktor,” he offered tenderly. “Better than anyone, you know me.” 

 

His voice was low and sorrowful, and Viktor's chest tightened with an invisible plea.

 

“But you don't have to believe me.”

 

Slowly, his hand reached into his pocket, and he pulled out his wallet. Flipping it open, Jayce dug his thick fingers into the side compartment. He stared at the piece of paper he'd retrieved for a brief moment, eyes softening.

 

Then, he reversed it. “You can see for yourself.” 

 

The image was worn off, old, and wrinkled. The colors in it, dulled. 

 

In it, Jayce had his arm draped around Viktor’s shoulders, and both were smiling while staring at each other. Viktor recognised it to be the cut-out picture from the magazine detailing their win at the innovators competition. 

 

Despite the washed-out material, the adoration between them poured out of it and gripped Viktor by the neck.

 

It was tender, transparent, faultless. Just two friends, grateful for each other in a moment of unthinkable success. Forgetting the world around them in preference of perceiving each other. 

 

Viktor didn't miss how gaunt he looked. How, despite the hollow cheeks, the pale skin, the weary lids, the harshly distinct purples under his eyes– underneath, they sparkled still. 

 

The clutch in his throat tightened.

 

Swiftly, Viktor directed his attention toward the young version of Jayce. Unmovingly, he traced the gentle curve of his mouth, the quietly joyful crinkles, the excited, yet tender warmth that poured out of him as he gazed into Viktor’s past self. 

 

The emotion seeped out of the photograph, and it stabbed Viktor right in the gut.

 

It seemed… so obvious, to the naked eye. Their unbridled, mutual affection back then. 

 

It reminded Viktor of a feeling he'd long banished. One that had tried to return when he'd watched the ‘proof’ video before he'd proficiently disintegrated it.

 

A recalling of a pure friendship that asked for nothing in return. Of a connection that elevated them both without having to try . A bond that, for the briefest of time, had taught him what it truly felt like to feel safe, and joyously content, and grateful to be alive. Especially during a section of his life where he'd fervently wished he was not.

 

“You've kept that in there?” Viktor wondered, his voice hoarse and shaky. “This whole time?” 

 

Jayce turned the photograph toward himself, the faint curve to his mouth delicately tender. 

 

“It was one of the best days of my life,” he confessed quietly. “It was too painful to look at, you know– after. But knowing it was there… It comforted me, I guess.” 

 

Something colossal was creeping up Viktor's chest, insistent for release.

 

It terrified him.

 

That's when he spotted a flicker of yellow in his peripheral vision and automatically leaned from the curb with an outstretched arm.

 

Jayce slipped the photograph back into his wallet, peeping at the approaching taxi, and tucked his hands into his pant pockets.

 

Viktor clicked open the car door. Took a step. Found himself lingering. 

 

“Jayce?” 

 

His tired gaze lifted from the ground. 

 

Viktor sent him a stern look. “No more filtering.”

 

His mouth tilted upward, except its shape only emanated sadness. 

 

“What if I hurt you by mistake?” He whispered.

 

Viktor's chest clenched. 

 

In an internal hurry, he slid into the back seat, set his cane aside, and shut the door. “One moment,” he told the driver. 

 

Pressing the button to open his window, the breeze filtered through as the shape of an awaiting man demanded his notice. 

 

Viktor shifted his head in his general direction, truth spilling out of his tongue. “I have no interest in any version of you constructed to commodify.” His focus flicked to those shades of green. “I want truth.”

 

Jayce stepped closer, bracing his forearms on the roof of the car.

 

An earthy scent curled through the open window, mixing with the smoky, leathery fragrance of his cologne.

 

“And you'll tell me if I cross a line?” 

 

Viktor stared at him for a beat. “Have I ever not?” 

 

Jayce's eyes flickered to the running meter. The driver was happily occupied on his phone, so Viktor waited for Jayce to find the words to express what he was so clearly itching to say.

 

After a moment, his cautious regard returned, and his tone lowered so only the two of them could hear.

 

“Nothing I have to say is more important than–” He signaled between them. “Our working together. I don't want to make it harder for you, at least not more than it already is.” 

 

Viktor’s shoulders relaxed, which was curious because he hadn't even been aware they'd been tense.

 

“I can take care of myself,” Viktor murmured back. “Just… Don’t minimize yourself around me. It's not… right." 

 

And I also want to know who you really are. Conclusively.

 

“Can we make it a mutual agreement, then?” He lifted a challenging brow. “Don't think I don't notice it, too.” 

 

The corners of Viktor’s lips tugged upward. “Fair enough.” 

 

“In that case,” Jayce leaned toward the front, rasped the glass with his knuckle, and shared Viktor’s address through the cracked window.

 

Then, he braced his right forearm on Viktor’s aperture and gave a curt nod. “That shirt looks spectacular on you.”  

 

Before Viktor could respond, Jayce withdrew and slapped the roof of the taxi twice. 

 

The car peeled off the curb, and Viktor's mind became swarmed by static noise. 

 

If he could have transcribed it, it would have sounded like an excruciatingly drawn-out, monotonic uh. It harmonised with the sound of the engine rumbling in the background. 

 

As they rounded a corner, Viktor glanced out his window and watched as Jayce stood still on that sidewalk, eyes pinned on the vehicle pulling away.

 

Then, he shifted and began to amble back toward the Academy. 

 

There was a modest limp in his step. 

 

Which, for some reason, filled Viktor with unshakable anger.

 

Jayce had purposefully hidden him from Salo. 

 

Taken the brunt of that interaction. 

 

Caused a distraction to help Viktor to safety. 

 

Prompted Viktor to laugh and then joined with abandon as if nothing horrific had occurred between them. A type of unleashed joy Viktor hadn't experienced in eons.

 

Looked at him like– like that. Like Viktor was indeed someone important to him. 

 

Told Viktor, time and time again, that he cared. Now, literally.

 

Showed Viktor proof of it, not only in his actions, but in pieces of them he kept tucked away fucking everywhere. 

 

You were my favorite person . 

 

That son of a bitch. Why was he so adamant about making Viktor remember? Making him feel things other than pure hatred or blessed indifference?

 

To add salt to the wound, that familiar stranger had the sheer audacity to compliment him.

 

One unforeseen sentence, making Viktor once more recognise someone underneath the vast unknown that was that human being. 

 

Which only caused his mind to ruthlessly split in two. Agonisingly, in fact. 

 

Only to then catch him walking away with the residues of an injury inflicted by prioritising Viktor's well-being. 

 

A well-being that Talis had enforced on him. Subjected him to. 

 

He'd lunged for Viktor as if he'd mattered. Sacrificed his body, as if it were insignificant in comparison. Said–

 

Stay with me, stay with me.

 

Begged it, almost. Viktor had barely been conscious, but he'd heard it. 

 

And a part of him knew his body had willingly succumbed to that swallowing darkness because he'd been with him. Because, buried underneath all of that eviscerating hatred, there'd been no doubt that Jayce would take him to safety. 

 

And now, he was limping.

 

Worst of all, a contrasting, revolting thought was starting to curl inside Viktor's brain. 

 

It would seem Jayce had a white knight fantasy and kept using Viktor as his damsel in distress. 

 

Rage wasn't even close to what was bubbling to the surface. 

 

It was calamity. 

 

“Stop the car,” Viktor snapped, far more harshly than he'd intended. 

 

“Sir?” 

 

“Stop. The. Car.” 

 

Viktor took a bill from his wallet, overpaid for the short ride, and braced himself on his cane to lunge out of the vehicle. 

 

Slamming the door shut, Viktor stomped back toward that building with a storm ready to be unleashed, regardless of the restless pains prickling up his leg because of his fervor.

 

Enough was enough.

 

If it was no filter Jayce wanted, then that's exactly what he'd fucking get. 

Notes:

TW: retelling of a breakdown, bullying, casual drinking

///

SOME SHITS ABOUT TO GO DOWWWWWWWWWWWN THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE UNTIL NOOOOOOOOW!!!!!!!

Music for this chapter: lost on you by LP, and for some reason i had the "let me think about it" radio mix by Ida Cor &Freddie Le Grande when writing j watching v in that shirt (dont judge me)

WHICH ALSO REMINDS ME i was inspired for that garment due to this amazing jayvik fanart i stumbled across on tumblr.

Meni and Babette, teaming up to ship jayvik

Rio appearance :D! Love that when j went to visit, she skiddaddled but cuddles up with v :D

the green suit is because I, myself, had no fucking idea how to GET THESE TWO IN THE SAME ROOM WORKING ON THE SAME THING

calendar mention ;)

j is trying very very hard to keep his mind as platonic as he can atp HAHA (he is failing)

fuck salo

and yay for laughing like idiots ;) had so much fun writing that. and salos terrible speech.

j leaning on the car roof would give me cold sweats, i think.

I love that v is the one saying enough is enough but my dude YOU WERE THE ONE WHO DIDNT WANNA TALK. But yay for his snapping!!! and wanting to find the answers for himself!!!!

I hope you have an amazing (however long until we see each other). Take care!!

As always, any feedback and/or overall opinion is not only welcome, but deeply motivating and appreciated <3 truly

tooodalooooo!

Chapter 34: How could an angel ever be a burden?

Notes:

TW IN ENDNOTES

EVERYBODY STAY FKIN CALM (me to myself)

Songs:
- let down by mack loren
- ambiance song : on the nature of daylight by max richer, Louis fuller et Co.

brace yourselves, this one was made purposefully draining

(ps special thanks to chanonce for taking me with them on their read by unexpectedly commenting on most chapters, it was massive motivation boost, thank you <3 as always, appreciation only)

happy (????) jayvik!

Viktor burst through the door of the lab.

 

Fed-up demand drove every storming step, harmonising with the orchestra thundering inside his chest. 

 

A tempest that would not settle, would not soothe– not until it witnessed the swell of a promised grand finale. One that had been building up for months.

 

Viktor did not care for what would follow. Did not care for the ruin left in its wake. 

 

He wanted this cleaving migraine gone , and he was willing to pay whatever the cost.

 

With his sanity breaking apart, what else was there to preserve by keeping away?

 

The sea he’d been hurled into swirled with currents composed of both genuineness and deception, swishing freely between each other to evade any proper distinction. It didn't matter which was inundating his lungs and suffocating whatever soundness of mind he'd managed to preserve– it all tasted like salt water to him.

 

And if Viktor was being forcibly bound to a state of splintering confusion amidst those twisting currents, then he would wrap his shackles around the culprit’s throat and drag him right down with him. 

 

If Viktor was to drown– this time, he wouldn't do so alone. 

 

Viktor glared at Jayce's desk, poisedly taunting him with its vacancy. 

 

“Viktor?” A voice stuttered from his right. He lashed his attention toward it, brows furrowing in fury. 

 

Jayce had removed his white suit-jacket and settled it on the back of a chair. He’d rolled up the sleeves of the black satiny shirt, crimson tie nowhere to be found. The buttons at the top were still unmade.

 

Slowly, Jayce lowered the hand still gripping chalk. 

 

_ _ _ 

Eyes agape, Jayce shifted from the blackboard to face Viktor, who seemed to call upon figments of hell under each purposeful stride toward him. 

 

“D-did you forget some–”

 

Viktor’s finger stabbed in his direction, efficiently silencing him. 

 

Jayce didn't miss the fact that the gesture used to be his.

 

“You sophist, twisted, balatronic, sick son of a bitch.” 

 

Jayce blinked at every spat insult coming out of an enraged Viktor. 

 

What could have possibly happened in the last fifteen minutes?! How had Jayce detonated a bomb without ever being aware of setting it in the first place? 

 

“What did I do?” He wondered in a small voice.

 

“You think you can just go around complimenting people!?”

 

Jayce kept his gape. “...Yes?” And despite Viktor’s harsh tone, he couldn't help the twitch in his lips. “Balatronic? Really?” 

 

He must have missed the memo that they'd returned to the eighteen hundreds.

 

Given the frustrated grumble coming out of Viktor, joking about it in the moment seemed ill-advised. 

 

Jayce was so taken aback, he couldn't make sense of whether this was a bit or not. 

 

“Should I not have…?"

 

“I was your favorite person?!” Viktor sliced over him, his bafflement striking with bloodthirst. “Me?" 

 

Ah.

 

Jayce jiggled his head slightly. “...Yes?” 

 

Viktor scoffed, absolutely bewildered. “Where the fuck do you get off?” 

 

Usually, the shower, Jayce replied confusedly in his mind. 

 

But Viktor wasn't done.

 

“What in the living fuck do you do to your enemies, then?” Viktor gestured curtly with his head, demanding a response. “Sledge them with your hammer until you cave their fucking skulls in?” 

 

Fury radiated from every labored breath, but what Viktor was hypothesising seemed so preposterously absurd, Jayce couldn't help but shield his fright behind a layer of humor.

 

“I mean… I wouldn't be opposed…” 

 

“Can you not hear–” Viktor interrupted once more, their complexion thrice as slicing than usual due to the gala's make-up being intact on their features. “–how fucked-up it is for you to tell me that, if true?!” 

 

Jayce's heartbeat picked up, an uncomfortable warmth coursing under his tightening skin. 

 

Okay, so not a humorous interaction. 

 

“Fucked-up?” He murmured. 

 

“And now you're limping,” Viktor cut off accusingly, as if Jayce weren't even there. A cold, mirthless sound bubbled out of him, sprouting goosebumps over Jayce's forearm. “You're fucking limping and it’s driving me insane.” 

 

Oh, Jayce thought upon hearing such words.  He might be breaking apart.

 

“Viktor,” Jayce soothed, taking a step forward. “Calm down, we can–”

 

“Don’t–” He enunciated with a venomous threat. “–tell me to calm down. I have been calm, Jayce, more than I–" The amber in his eyes flashed. "And you keep taking the piss.” 

 

Jayce’s throat bobbed. 

 

He had been on the receiving end of Viktor's anger before. 

 

This was different, somehow.

 

In the span of a second, he efficiently crafted a mental list: 

 

First priority: attempt not to make this situation worse.

 

Equal priority: make an effort not to push Viktor further away or override his comfort. 

 

Second priority: welcome his feelings as he had done with Jayce’s. As Jayce had promised he would, too. 

 

Things to keep in mind: not to take it personally. Viktor expressing his anger was a good thing, and Jayce would willingly lie on the sacrificial table if it meant it would somehow help.

 

Try to keep it together.

 

“Okay, you're right,” Jayce spoke softly, addressing those blazing, honeyed eyes piercing his soul. “What would you have me do, instead?” 

 

“How about you call a specialist and set a fucking appointment, for one?” Viktor's nostrils flared. "I have no doubt that your super-insurance will cover pretty much anything, will it not?"

 

Jayce felt a force punch his gut, only to then follow up by striking both of his lungs. 

 

“My, uh–” His breath stammered out of him. “My super- insurance?” 

 

The silent glower Viktor was giving him was charged with a havoc eight years in the making. 

 

Jayce found himself slightly fearful to be on the receiving end of it, for once.

 

A frigid curve ticked over Viktor's lips, the faintness of it just as deadly. 

 

“Come on, now,” Viktor drawled with a taunt.

 

Jayce was still composing all of the fragments that Viktor had flung his way to try to form a coherent picture when he continued.

 

“There was a television in my room after the surgery,” Viktor illustrated, matter-of-factly. “It's the first and only time that's ever happened. Let's not play stupid games, shall we?”

 

A bead of sweat slithered down Jayce's spine.

 

“That enters a topic you've not wanted to visit before,” Jayce warned carefully. “If I tell you–”

 

Jayce was interrupted by Viktor pulling out the chair from their common desk, still thankfully acting as a barrier between them. He plopped down onto the seat, leaned his cane against the furniture, crossed his braced leg, and interlaced his fingers over his knee. 

 

The perfect semblance of expectant exasperation.

 

Jayce let out a long exhale, pinching the bridge of his nose to ease the tension prickling underneath his fingertips. 

 

“Do you promise to say the word if you start feeling unsafe or have any desire for me to stop?” 

 

Viktor's brows scrunched. “Mr. Stiff?” 

 

Jayce affirmed with his head, steeled and certain in his priorities. 

 

Golden hues softened for a fraction of a second before they ruthlessly hardened anew. 

 

“Fine. You have my word.” His jaw ticked. “Now, speak.” 

 

Jayce lingered for a moment to confirm his decisiveness. “Alright.”

 

The height difference constituted an abrupt wrongness that Jayce felt urged to amend. Consequently, he neared Viktor’s nook and rolled out his own seat.

 

Jayce settled by the side of their table, elbows braced on his knees. He watched how his digits entwined in the partition between his thighs, disguising the irrepressible clamminess now coating them and dismissing the pain trickling down from his tense nape. 

 

“Would you like the short version or the long one?” He finally asked, his slowness a contrast to Viktor's acidity.  

 

“You know exactly what I want.” 

 

Right. 

 

Filterless truth.

 

Forty minutes ago, they'd been laughing as if eight years of putrid silence hadn't carved a vast divide between them. 

 

And Jayce was about to break it. 

 

For the first time since Viktor's return, Jayce was hesitant to speak on the matter. Their roles had reversed out of the blue, and Jayce was secretly mortified that by opening his mouth, those bricks that had been fleetingly set to the side would mount up a brand new, taller wall between them. One that might dry and solidify, moving forward. 

 

At least, in the silence, there had been a whisper of possibility. 

 

By handing Viktor the full picture, he might reach a conclusion that there could be no going back from. Regardless of Jayce's enthusiastic presence on the other side of that bulwark, patiently waiting to tear it back down–

 

That wait could go forever unanswered. 

 

But Jayce owed it to him. The refusal to let his friend down, regardless of how he might feel toward Jayce in the aftermath, is what drove him to take a step.

 

“Do you–” Jayce gulped. “Do you remember when you collapsed after the competition? When I ended up taking you to the hospital, and they said you had contracted pneumonia?” 

 

“Do I… remember?” He wagged his head, muddled. “Jayce– of course I remember.” 

 

After so many years of convincing himself that Viktor had–most likely–forgotten their time together, it still surprised Jayce when that past certainty was refuted. 

 

Just as it had been when Jayce had brought up the chips Viktor had gifted him for the app, without needing to refresh any memories.

 

“Right.” Jayce rearranged his thoughts, pulling from events that had taken place in what felt like another timeline. “After they took you in, there was a nurse at the front desk. Shauna. She called me over and ended up telling me that, um–” 

 

Nervously, he rotated the band designed to alert him in his sleep, shifting it around his wrist.

 

Here goes nothing.

 

“She disclosed that your insurance wouldn't be covering your bills or your stay. Something about there being a cap?” Jayce huffed disappointingly. “I don't remember exactly, but it basically meant that you'd been left stranded while you were fighting for your life.” 

 

Jayce massaged his hands, eyes pinned to them.

 

The thought of seeing any form of distaste in Viktor's eyes was provoking a coil in his stomach. Especially because Jayce was sure he would find a lot of it by the time he finished speaking. 

 

“So, I lied to you.” 

 

Jayce's weighted gaze flickered up to Viktor's, the inescapable sorrow of his mistakes shaping his words.

 

Viktor’s eyes widened slightly, his mouth pursing instantly as if locking up his soul behind closed doors.

 

“Meaning?” Viktor muttered.

 

Jayce reclined on his chair with a heavy breath. “There was no insurance.”

 

Viktor's brows furrowed slowly. 

 

“What do you mean, there was no insurance?” 

 

Jayce pressed his lips in apology. 

 

“It never existed.” 

 

A fearful confusion took over as Viktor's head jerked in a self-soothing rejection. “That makes no sense. I didn't pay a single dime since that hospital stay, what–” 

 

Jayce witnessed how something clicked behind Viktor's regard, his entire frame softly pausing with a skeptical conclusion. His shoulders slackened ever-so-slightly, and his focus darted from one of Jayce's eyes to the other, as if they would voice the confirmation he did not want to have affirmed. 

 

There was nothing but peaceful concession returning his attention.

 

Viktor slumped into his seat, verbally struck. 

 

“You didn't,” he whispered. 

 

Jayce nodded. “I did.”

 

He let Viktor study his calm, giving him whatever time he needed to process the deceit.

 

“That's why you asked me not to speak to Meni about it,” he deduced after a palpable beat.

 

Jayce solemnly agreed once more. 

 

Viktor was far too intelligent to have missed the confusion his mother would have expressed before she’d caught on to Jayce’s train of thought. He hadn't wanted to risk unveiling his choice amidst the already chaotic circumstances of that time.

 

Especially when she would have followed the news by getting further involved in a situation that was far beyond Jayce’s control, or asked questions he would have had a tremendously difficult time answering.  

 

The silence between them stretched, feeding into Jayce’s anxiety. His good leg was itching to bounce in place as he rubbed his palms over each other. 

 

“You were paying out of pocket?” Viktor finally uttered, an edged vulnerability lacing his words. 

 

Jayce gave another confirmation.

 

What was he to have done? Leave his best friend to suffer? Or without critical support? 

 

It'd been the easiest choice of his life. 

 

“Why… didn't you say something?

 

“I don't know,” Jayce let out in a rush, springing to his feet to avoid the nervous tick crawling up his limb. Needing to release some energy, he took to pacing beside their work station. “You already had so much on your plate, and I–I didn't want you to worry about any of that shit. You were owed the liberty of focusing every effort into feeling better.” 

 

Except now that he'd begun speaking, the words spewed out of his throat without any real filter. 

 

“Next thing I knew, I was sitting at the bank office every other week, signing papers I couldn't even begin to understand. Personal loans, credit extensions– honestly, anything they would offer me.” The truth poured out of Jayce as if it would no longer be contained. “I wasn't prepared for how expensive staying alive could be. And I was already deeply embarrassed that I didn't have enough to take you out to the shitty garden, or afford giving you more than a single, miserable blanket.” 

 

His strides turned more urgent, his gestures spasmodic. “Since no other insurance agreed to take in a client who was actively dying, I stopped checking the numbers because– what did it matter? If it kept you cared for, I would be signing.”

 

Nausea was twisting his gut as he recalled those days. “The debt piled up to the point where it got completely out of hand. I was spending more money than I'd ever seen before, money I didn't have just to keep you in hospital . ” He laced his fingers through his hair, pulling the strands slightly. The sharp pain felt soothing, for some reason. “And the worst part is that it didn't solve anything.” 

 

A profound concern now radiated from the faint pinch in Viktor’s brows and the slight tightening of his lips. 

 

“You went into debt… because of me?” 

 

“Because of you?” Jayce asked, dumbfounded, the reins on his composure slipping. “Viktor, no. It was my decision. You were struggling to breathe. The last thing I wanted was for you to have to worry over bureaucratic nonsense and outrageous medical bills that you shouldn't have had to pay in the first place.” 

 

Jayce paused for a moment, eyes locked onto his feet as his chest echoed with the gallop of an injustice he'd never managed to come to terms with.

 

“You deserved help. Not to be further punished for the misfortune of being sick.” 

 

Before Viktor could think to jump in, Jayce allowed himself to continue spilling out a part of his past he'd never shared with anyone outside his ma. “I really thought I could figure it out. Even if it took me years to pay it off– I would not abandon you with it.” 

 

Jayce shifted to face Viktor, who was painstakingly following his every move.

 

His cadence dropped and melted into a loaded quiet. “But then, you fell into a coma.”

 

His wobbly limbs took a step forward, his voice trembling due to the unease rattling his core. “I tried to wait for you, Viktor. I promise you, I held on for as long as I could. But by the seventh day, they were threatening to disconnect your life support if I couldn't keep up with the payments and I… I was already drowning. The bank refused me. You weren't waking and I–” Jayce let out a sharp breath. “I didn't know what to do.” 

 

His palms radiated with damp heat, and before he was allowed enough time to consider how to continue, Viktor reached for his cane and pushed himself to his feet. 

 

Fury returned, flaring amber eyes locked onto Jayce, cautioning him of a challenge he was silently dreading. 

 

Jayce was predominantly scared that he might not be able to soothe the ire radiating from the features he’d spent eight years meeting in his dreams. 

 

“And you thought the best course of action–” Viktor seethed. “–was to sell my legacy?”  

 

Jayce’s eyes widened at the words launched in his direction, utterly unexpected and landing like a brutish slap across his cheek. 

 

He staggered back.

 

“Your legacy?” 

 

“Blowie,” Viktor spelled out, his frame taut, every muscle wired to the point where the veins in his neck were popping out. Jayce didn’t miss the balled fist at his side, or the way his knuckles were glowing bone-white around his cane. “That's what you did, no? To resolve your crisis?” 

 

He jiggled his head. “You thought that was your legacy? ” 

 

“That was my legacy, you cock!” Viktor snapped, anger bursting from his throat. “The one you promised to protect– remember that!?” 

 

Jayce blinked, brain recalculating, swiftly integrating this brand new information into the equation and rebooting his mind to reprocess the discussion at hand. 

 

Of course, Viktor had a point– Jayce had sworn to keep their invention free of ownership. He could understand the pain behind an act that harbored the shape of betrayal.

 

But legacy!? 

 

Jayce almost felt insulted for him.

 

“I promised you truth, and truth is what I will give you,” Jayce said at last, voice solemnly reverent. “My debts were insignificant next to the main reasons why I decided to sell Blowie. But I would also be lying if I said that there wasn't a minuscule part of me that sought to solve this issue through that deal, as well. When Salo presented me with a new offer, I saw an opportunity to pay for the surgery, keep you alive, erase the medical debt, as well as finance the rest of your recovery. Of course I did, it meant one less thing to worry about.” 

 

Viktor's breathing was starting to pick up speed, and Jayce was becoming familiar with what that meant. 

 

And still, he needed to get this out. Jayce was desperate to rip out the bandage in full, despite the jitters inside him that taunted with whispers that he was too much of a coward to go through with all of it. 

 

“But Viktor,” Jayce firmly continued, eyes pinned with unflinching conviction. “I didn’t give a flying shit about the money. With you by my side, why would I?” He flung his arms out, discernibly indignant. “We would come up with a thousand trinkets convenient enough to market and sell them all, for all we cared about! I didn't see it as dismissing a ‘legacy’, I just thought I was sacrificing an invention in exchange for your life.” 

 

Jayce brought his attention to his upturned palms, easing his heavy breaths. 

 

Then, he added with a lowered voice, “I would commit to sacrificing whatever came out of my hands for the rest of mine for that miraculous reassurance.” 

 

His gaze hardened and lifted to find Viktor's again, whose brows were plunging toward one another as he continued, “Let alone a single invention we'd have rebuilt ten times over by the time we were satisfied with it. Have you met us?!” Jayce insisted with transparent incredulity. “Blowie was the first prototype of something far greater, so why would I prioritise it? All I cared about was you. Getting better.”  

 

Viktor flinched, before a bitter, vicious laugh broke out of him. “'Cause I'm much better off, am I?” His eyes dropped to the floor. “All of it– for nothing.”

 

A flood of tension sent every nerve ending within Jayce into a spasm. 

 

“For nothing?” Jayce's voice fractured with astonishment, his shoulders locking in self-defense.

 

He strode to his desk without waiting for another word. He scrimmaged over his belongings, tearing through documents until he yanked out his notebook. Flipping it to the last pages, he stabbed his trembling finger at the information there awaiting him. 

 

“You cough eighty-seven point six percent less than before you left,” Jayce fired off, his voice unyielding. He gave Viktor a loaded look. “And it's never as brutal.” 

 

He riffled through pages faster. “You get winded forty-six point three percent less. Before the explosion, I had not seen you use a crutch, not even once. That's a seventy-two point nine decrease. I estimated you stand around twenty-two percent longer, too–” 

 

Jayce swirled the notebook toward Viktor, jabbing at the marks in his tiny calendar, the dates, the counted seconds. Then, he tossed it on the table with a sharp thud. He enumerated with his digits. “You can climb steps without feeling faint. Attend Galas without impediment. I've seen zero collapses since you've been back. And you say it was for nothing?”

 

Viktor's eyes were popping out of their sockets, his skin paling by the second. His jaw had slackened.

 

“Y-you’ve been watching me?” He croaked out, his pitch rising. “Counting my coughs ? 

 

Jayce froze.

 

Shit.

 

“That's– besides the point.” 

 

“No, that is the point!” Viktor slammed his cane into the floor, leaning into it as his rage flared. “Everything you’ve noted down was for your starving ego. Proof to absolve your guilt. Justify your actions. Just like the sale– it wasn't about me. Or to help me. It was about preserving your future and your accomplishments.” 

 

Jayce winced, the words thrown at him stabbing his abdomen with a dozen needles. “How can you say that?” He rasped. “It was your future I was trying to preserve, Viktor. I wanted–” 

 

“BUT I DIDN'T WANT!” 

 

Viktor's shout cracked through the already buzzing space between them, sucking out the air in Jayce's lungs as his truth lashed out of him like a merciless whip.

 

“Open your fucking eyes! I told you I didn't want to be Frankensteined, and you violated my choice!” 

 

Jayce’s body slowly petrified as he gaped.

 

“You dismissed my say, and my body, because you saw a future without a partner propping you up!” His words were frantic now. “You superseded your needs to what I wanted to do with the rest of my life.” Viktor chortled, utterly manic. “And of course, pay your debts. Lest we forget.” 

 

Jayce’s eyes watered, voice trembling as he held together the wayward pieces of a soul he'd barely managed to keep together over the years. “How can you possibly be right, yet so simultaneously wrong?” 

 

He ran another hand through his hair, fighting for the right words. 

 

Jayce swallowed hard. “You’re right that you were the last person to be asked how you wanted to proceed. You were shoved to the side and forced to deal with the consequences of an aftermath that was imposed on you. I– I can’t imagine how violent that must have been for you. For that… For that, I will be sorry until the day I die.” 

 

Viktor was glaring at him, his disgust nestled over the curl in his upper lip. Jayce's voice hardened. “But you’re wrong about why I did it. I didn't care about my future, Viktor. What I cared about–”

 

“Enough,” Viktor cut in, ferociously slicing through Jayce’s explanation. “I don't want your hand-picked, half-assed apologies. I want you to regret it– all of it. To be truly sorry. I want you to drown in guilt, and I want to be the one to hold you under. I want the shame to flood your lungs and rob you of every breath. I want you clutching your throat and begging for the consideration you didn't have for me.” 

 

Jayce's heartbeat pulsed waves of heat up his neck, his rushing blood roaring in his ears.

 

“I–” His throat tightened to the point of pain. “I can't.”

 

A pained, rough rumble scraped out of Viktor's throat. “Why not?!” 

 

“BECAUSE YOU'RE HERE,” Jayce yelled, his emotions breaking through his control. “You're here and you're breathing! And you want me to be sorry for it?!” 

 

Jayce pressed his fingers into his eyes, rubbing them to find his calm once more. 

 

Top priority, top priority, remember your top priority.

 

He softened his voice. “My deepest remorse is ever causing you hurt.” 

 

Jayce dropped himself into his abandoned seat, his exhaustion forming a pact with gravity to pull him down. 

 

His stomach kept churning and churning, reminding how Jayce had been the culprit of taking Viktor's say hostage. Of how much pain that had caused him, regardless of the results.

 

Glancing up at his friend, Jayce repented in earnest over the choke clutching his throat, “I'm profoundly sorry my actions caused you turmoil. That they made you choiceless, especially during a time where your choice was most of what you had left to call your own. I will apologise for eternity over that.” 

 

But you weren't there. You couldn't choose. 

 

You were unconscious. 

 

Jayce took a deep breath, allowing the quiet to reshape his clarification.

 

“Even when your health tore you apart,” he continued gently. “You dusted yourself off and kept living. Not just enduring– living. It was infectious and astounding and so very you.” Jayce didn't conceal the admiration threading his tone as he stared tenderly at his friend. “Aliveness holds the shape of your silhouette, Viktor. I've seen it painted in every curve of your smile, in every hidden shake of your laughter, in every mischievous twinkle in your eyes. Life clings to you like a needy fledgling, and you nurse it when you think nobody's watching.”

 

Sitting while Viktor was glowering at him did not feel right, either. Jayce stood once more, his knee throbbing in protest. 

 

“So, be mad at me. Hate me. Slit my throat and leave me gagging in the pool of my own blood– I won't fight it. Move countries and never think of my face again. Leave me, dammit, but do so alive. Don't you understand? The patterns repeat themselves, and I am their servant.” 

 

An ache accompanied every breath, rippling with a vulnerability he shouldn't be disclosing. 

 

“Because if I had to choose again, I would still choose you.”

 

Jayce's voice tore over the last word. Still, he leashed the cry inside him with mortal strictness.

 

Viktor kept himself in place, immobile in this moment in time that was heartbreakingly unending. Even in his hatred, even in his rejecting, unmoving poise– he was enlivened.

 

And that was its own gift, for Jayce.

 

“And as I look at you now, standing before me an impossible eight years later–” Jayce pressed his lips as he beheld his dearest friend, who kept observing him like he was the embodiment of all that was evil in this world. “How can I possibly regret it?”

 

Jayce took a tentative step forward, unable to remain still over the anguish radiating from a honey he'd been programmed to nurture.

 

Viktor brutally shoved him away.

 

“Because it wasn't your choice to make!” Viktor's voice broke as desperation tore through his anger. “Did it ever cross your fucking mind that I didn't want to stay alive? That every second was torture, and you condemned me to a longer sentence? I didn't want to be here!” His glare was blazing. “By saving my life, you murdered me.” 

 

Jayce’s jaw dropped.

 

His mind went silent. The way quiet embraces nature before it's savagely ripped apart.

 

On a random Friday night, in the middle of the Academy lab, Jayce's world tumbled and crashed in its entirety.

 

Upon hearing those words, every argument he'd treasured shattered into a billion, meaningless pieces inside him. They sliced through his entrails– a death by a thousand cuts that represented one, single strike.

 

The concept of reality flipped on itself, and the automatic rewiring of conducts in his brain was both instant and profoundly devastating.

 

What Viktor was saying went against everything Jayce had thought to know, and it tore open a new perspective Jayce had never been astute enough to ever consider. 

 

“Y–you didn't want to live?” He stammered out. 

 

He'd thought that'd been a common dream. He'd thought Viktor had succumbed to an acceptance imposed by his doctors. He'd thought he would have chosen differently for himself if the opportunity were within reach.

 

He’d thought Viktor wanted to avoid further pain, not avoid staying alive.

 

And yet, another affliction was mounting the one currently unraveling. 

 

“I was ready,” Viktor croaked. “I was at peace. I was desperate for it to be over.”

 

Jayce gulped down the sob that wanted to erupt from him. His body shook, and his knees buckled.

 

How could Jayce not have known? 

 

Viktor had been his closest friend, his partner, and yet there had been a crucial piece of information about him that Jayce had never been privy to. 

 

Jayce mourned for young Viktor. For his invisible agony. His tucked-in despair. For how lonely it must have felt, to have accepted such a thing in a world that didn't have the time nor the care to pause to grieve over such a monumental, self-acclaimed surrender.

 

One that led to an outcome Jayce had never allowed himself to consider.

 

For the mountains of distress he must have been in to seek permanent release, and still had kept to himself. 

 

But–

 

Jayce thought of their late-night conversations in the lab. Of Viktor's humour, ringing out whenever he succeeded in ridiculing Jayce. Of the competition, of Viktor's foot tapping and head bobbing along to the music. Of their swaying. Of their sprint down a hospital corridor. Of Viktor's recognisable eyes in that garden, buried underneath an unrecognisable frame. Of Blowie, and not only the buzzing journey, but its euphoric culmination. Of holding Viktor flush against Jayce’s chest as he laughed and laughed– to this day, it moved Jayce just to remember it. How flushed and beautiful Viktor was when he permitted himself to embrace any form of liberation.

 

Only to now discover he'd actively been seeking to die through all of it. 

 

That all that joy had belonged to a person making tremendous efforts while lying in wait.

 

Efforts meant to convey a permanent goodbye.

 

“And you trapped me here,” he spitefully condemned, his tone hushed yet brutal.

 

But that whisper filled Jayce's mind like an echo-chamber, swelling into every crevice that now bled with gut-wrenching understanding.

 

Jayce's waterlines brimmed, his throat constricted as if he'd been sucker-punched right in the middle of it. Every word failed him– every single one.

 

“I don't feel you did it for me. You did it to me. What will it take for you to see that, once and for all?”

 

Jayce couldn't move. Couldn't speak. Couldn't begin to make sense of it all.

 

But he was starting to.

 

If Viktor had been at peace… and Jayce–

 

The horror of what Jayce had put him through finally clicked into place. 

 

Viktor's ardent hatred suddenly became the most reasonable response on earth. 

 

His leaving, the most logical conclusion.

 

And at long last, Jayce realized what ‘making it about himself’ truly meant. He hadn’t really known any reality outside his own.  

 

The thought that Viktor hadn’t wanted to stay alive had never crossed his fucking mind, because it hadn’t had any space to exist in his consciousness.

 

You trapped me here.

 

After the effort of welcoming Jayce into his personal life, into his medical difficulties, after trusting him with his power of attorney–

 

In Viktor's story, Jayce had brutalised his autonomy. His say. His body. He'd done the opposite of what Viktor had wished to do for himself. 

 

His limbs wobbled, and this time, he didn’t do anything to stop it.

 

Jayce’s knees crashed onto the floor. 

 

His swollen joint screamed in anguish, but it was nothing compared to the one currently splitting his chest in two.

 

Viktor’s widened eyes followed his descent, and he stumbled back.

 

Jayce fell into the balls of his feet and covered his face with his palms.

 

Oh, God.

 

What did I do?

 

And now it made sense why Viktor had referred to Blowie as his legacy.

 

It hadn't been resignation...

 

It'd been an exit by design.

 

And Jayce had, he had–

 

God, oh God, why? 

 

The rupture inside him was bleeding into the open, and in this moment, Jayce was certain it would never close.

 

Viktor had been waiting to die.

 

The more he repeated that novel fact, the more flashbacks assaulted his mind, punishing him with a new perspective that demanded he relive every move that was now an obvious, senseless act of war to Viktor.

 

Jayce had sold Viktor’s only work on earth– not only broken his promise, but accursed it when Viktor hadn't wanted to create anything else . He'd given it to a person who’d trashed it, just like Viktor had predicted they would. 

 

Jayce lowered his hands, gaze drifting upward to meet burning honey.

 

“I– I didn't know.” Jayce’s lower lip quivered, but he sank his fingernails into his emotions and clutched them in a death grip. “Viktor, I didn't know. I am so, so sorry. I stupidly assumed– that you wanted to stay. I let my perception– and– what I did. I see it now. It's–" 

 

Jayce couldn't fall apart, not when he wasn't the victim. 

 

And just as bad, he now realized he wasn't worthy of making amends. 

 

That crushing numbness came to the forefront in a blink, taking over every inch of his self with efficient force. A nonproclaimed state of emergency occurred inside his mind and body, and Jayce returned with ease to the shell he'd once been. One he'd made a home out of for many years. 

 

Every feeling, dimmed. Every thought, quieted. Every response, dulled. 

 

Even his identity was in jeopardy if he were to process any of it. And this wasn't about him.

 

It had never been as clear as in this moment. 

 

“You took everything from me," Viktor whispered, frame overtaken by tremors as he stared down at him. “And to what end? I’m still ill. You must have known this would only extend that suffering– how could you do that to me if you cared?”

 

If you cared.

 

As if it were a hypothetical. As if the person before him hadn't been one of his greatest sources of joy and connection. As if Jayce wouldn't have swapped places with him, given the chance.

 

The wrongness of it forced Jayce to stand, his body moving in a recognisable daze that enveloped him anytime Jayce found himself hollowed-out.

 

His endless wait was about to come to an end. 

 

“I didn't want to extend your suffering" Jayce murmured, his voice empty and rasped. It belonged to someone who'd only now managed to take a step back and fully understand the barbaric consequences of his actions.

 

Actions that had been meant to service and culminated in atrocity.

 

Despite feeling as if his body weighed far more than he was currently capable of carrying, Jayce still dragged himself to the cabinet tucked beside his desk. 

 

With reticent fingers, he found the right key to unlock it. 

 

After a sigh, Jayce pulled out the detestable, towering stack of files and documents he’d kept hidden from sight, cradling them in his arms as if they were a stillborn baby. 

 

Despite the shame prickling in his stomach, reminding him of what he would rather avoid, Jayce pretended to steel himself and carried them back to the best friend he'd once been fortunate enough to call his own.

 

With cautious hesitation, he gently settled them on their desk before taking a wide step back, offering Viktor some necessary breadth.

 

"I was looking to cure it." 

 

_ _ _ 

As Viktor's gaze was locked onto the mountain of folders, the sizzling under his skin continued growing and melting any neighboring tissue. It was equally scorching his mind and turning the habitat in his body unbearable and unrecognisable.

 

His deafening heartbeat throbbed on the side of his neck, each beat pulsing in his vision.

 

And all the while, the disorienting jumble of emotions was preemptively mixing into an improvised Molotov cocktail, eagerly chipping away at the traitorous, fracturing control he'd been holding together by the skin of his teeth.

 

A control he’d always relied on, and now wanted to jump ship in his greatest hour of need.

 

With excruciating slowness, Viktor lowered himself onto his chair. From his peripheral vision, he noticed how Jayce slumped into his seat, as well. 

 

Something was off. 

 

Viktor's eyes slid toward him, but Jayce wasn't really there anymore. His features had slackened, and his expression was utterly vacant. 

 

It was crushing.

 

It was righteous and deserving.

 

It was wrong.

 

“What’s all this?” Viktor murmured, coaxing Jayce to return to him despite knowing better for himself. 

 

That emptiness glanced up, startled that the shell guarding it was still being addressed. 

 

The attention was fleeting.

 

“It's incomplete,” he said, voice barely audible. 

 

As if that offered any clarification at all. 

 

Jayce’s gaze seemed to be avoiding his, which prompted Viktor to softly search those defeated features for further clues.

 

There was only an apparent void. 

 

The pandemonium inside his chest mercilessly clawed for release, louder than it ever had before. Viktor wasn't even entirely aware of what lurked underneath that lid he'd nailed shut. Of what he would find if he were to heed that banging and peel it open.

 

But, unlike for the last eight years, tampering its beckons was becoming an arduous affair. 

 

Instead, Viktor commanded himself to turn to the gigantic stack of documents before him. 

 

His hands vibrated as they rose to thumb the cover. With a silent intake of breath, Viktor tentatively lifted it, half-waiting for something to pounce on him from beneath.

 

V'S THINGY

 

The fact that Jayce hadn't come up with a proper name for whatever it was was concerning on its own. 

 

He flipped the first, otherwise blank, page.  

 

What he found caused his stomach to violently drop.

 

Before him was a blueprint.

 

Of a mechanical lung. 

 

It was simple, smooth, and stunningly designed. Each line traced with meticulous, conscious consideration– in a way that only one human being on this forsaken earth could accomplish. 

 

“I didn't want you to suffer at all,” Jayce said under his breath with a fragile melancholy. “And I didn't want you to survive, or get by. You deserved to live. ” Jayce sniffled. “Unburdened by pain.” 

 

And that's when it hit Viktor. 

 

Like a bullet wound the size of a dinner plate shot at close range, vacuuming his flesh and leaving the remnants in twisted pieces.

 

You deserved to live.

 

For the first time ever, hearing that sentence actually meant something to him.

 

Not a clear sign of being misunderstood, not a selfish demand, but–

 

Viktor's eyes burned disloyally, an ache of almost a decade in the making surging to the forefront with an unexpected, ruthless tug. 

 

He skimmed through the pages below and found articles, studies– hundreds upon hundreds of them, meticulously compiled, showcasing exhaustive research of Viktor's lung disease. 

 

“I was going to wait until I could bring you something concrete,” Jayce went on in a low tone, his voice bereft of any light. “But then you…” With a tight exhale, Jayce moved to massage his temples. “I was hoping the surgery could buy us enough time to figure it out.” He shook his head, and his changed demeanor was squeezing Viktor's heart. “I see now how thoughtless that was.” 

 

Thoughtless? 

 

He didn't understand. He couldn't understand. And Viktor was terrified that if he were to open his mouth and try to explain, he'd lose himself entirely.

 

And he'd fought way too hard for his stability to have it crumble after so long.

 

Viktor couldn't look up from the texts before him. His eyes devoured each title, flipping page after page as if he were running out of time to internalise it all. 

 

“Us?” He asked, strangled. 

 

The research was obsessive. Far beyond anything Viktor had ever stumbled across or pursued for his work.

 

It was so thorough that there were even studies detailing pieces of his disorder that Viktor didn't even know himself.

 

“This was to be our next project,” Jayce's fingers brushed over his bracelet. “Back then.” A dismissive gesture of his head. “It's profoundly stupid to think about now, considering where your wishes lie.” 

 

Viktor could not stop, could not drag his eyes away from those files. One after the other, speeding up as he tore through the stack, wholly unbelieving.

 

There was even a lone sketch of a back brace, which Viktor passed over swiftly. It only fueled the cold sweats dripping under his clothes.

 

But there were many for the lung. Amidst the chaos, a new blueprint would appear. Then another, and another, each one less concrete than the last. 

 

They had notes scribbled on the margins, with a handwriting he could snipe in his sleep.

 

Viktor's focus was snared by each recognisable scribble.

 

Must fix filter. V would kill me if he saw how rudimentary I made it. 

 

Nozzle is too thick. Might permeate airways. 

 

How to connect tissue seamlessly?

 

Weight? Can his chest cavity handle it? Reduce it.

 

If he's part metal– can he pass airport security? Stupid question. Find answer anyway

 

Talk to professionals who work with transplants (surgeons, engineers, success story patients)– make list of questions 

 

Emergency oxygen absorbent? What if the lung stops working abruptly? 

 

This design sucks. 

 

I convinced Dr. Hanne to help me. She can't give me patient files, but considering she knows me from V's appointments– loopholes. 

 

How to make it last? We don't want to have to replace it–

 

Corrosion? Poisonous long-term?

 

This design is ugly. 

 

Dr. Hanne talked about airflow mechanics today. Gave me an idea for the design. I think V would like it. 

 

Filter + pump + ?? 

 

How to remove waste from filter?? 

 

Viktor's grip tightened on the pages, wrinkling them under the force of his grasp. As he continued to dig through, he hunted for the dates on the corners. 

 

The most recent was from three months ago. 

 

Viktor’s stomach clenched, and his breath hitched. 

 

Frantically, he dove to find the bottom of the colossal pile, setting the different folders to the side in a logical order.

 

Finally, he reached the end. The beginning. 

 

It dated back to eight and a half years ago. 

 

“Is–” His mouth had dried, and every word grated against his tongue. Viktor shot his eyes upward, unable to keep ignoring the man before him. “Is this why you haven't published any research?” 

 

Thump–thump–thump.  

 

The corners of Jayce’s lips curved faintly, but they only conveyed bone-chilling sorrow. 

 

"As it turns out, building reliable prosthetic organs is not as easy as one would think." 

 

Viktor snorted through his spiking panic. "You don't say?"

 

Breathe, breathe, breathe, you can breathe.

 

“You've been working on this,” Viktor rasped, the bitterness coating his tongue from the pent-up emotions pressing up from the back of his mouth. “–while I was away?”  

 

Softened hues of green caressed Viktor’s attention. “I had a promise to keep,” Jayce whispered. 

 

Jayce must have noticed the unspoken question drawn in Viktor’s features. 

 

“When you fell unconscious,” he explained slowly. “I vowed I'd find a way to fix it.” His gaze fell, once more. “I'm sorry I failed you there, as well.” 

 

Failed him? 

 

This man had dedicated every free second of the past eight years to Viktor. To researching his degenerative chronic illness and carve out a way to stop its inescapable conclusion.

 

While Viktor had forgotten about Jayce’s existence, mindlessly erased him from memory, he’d relentlessly, stubbornly, incomprehensibly, continued grinding to invent a solution to stop Viktor from actively dying.  

 

Viktor’s eyes blurred. He ducked his head, fleeing the combustion threatening to burst inside him to stare at the oldest document, now posing mockingly before him.

 

Applicants: Viktor Jedlitzka & Jayce Talis 

Inventors: Viktor Jedlitzka & Jayce Talis  

 

“Jayce,” Viktor breathed, staring at the incomplete patent shaking in his hand.

 

“I only added my name in case I had to publish without you. This was always for you,” Jayce said gently. “And yours.” 

 

A scalding iron was pressing against the insides of Viktor's throat. 

 

“No,” he ground out, refusing to blink so the tear threatening to spill wouldn't fall. “I won't appropriate your work.” 

 

"You’re not,” Jayce assured quietly, rubbing circles around his temples. “I've worked on it as much as I could. But if anyone can bring it home...” Jayce lowered his hand, the genuineness behind his regard causing Viktor's chest to clench. “You could help people. And yourself."

 

"Jayce, are you out of your mind?" Viktor snapped, the agitated terror harshening his tone.

 

"I don't want it," he confessed after a pause, mutedly distraught. "Working on that... has been... agony, to say the least. Every day, a reminder of what I lost and yet with no real ability to stop or let it go.” 

 

God, what is happening, what ishappeningwhatishappening

 

“You were there for every step,” Jayce admitted with laced tenderness. “For every idea, every blueprint, every trial and error, every meeting. Every red light.” His voice cracked. But the information continued to spill out of him. “You were excruciatingly there for all of it, Viktor. And if anyone can fix what I’m missing, if anyone knows how to shape this to be the most helpful it can be for other patients, it's you. So, please, I beg you, take it. Just take it–” 

 

Jayce's voice broke entirely over his plea.

 

He lifted his fingers to press against his closed lids and forced himself to take deep breaths.

 

At the pain radiating from his speech, Viktor's soul crumbled and caved into itself. 

 

For a moment, it hadn't felt like Jayce was gifting Viktor a life-saving implant– 

 

It was as if Jayce were gifting his whole heart. Beating, as it had once been, in the cuff of his sleeve.

 

Unbidden, memories of their last months together pummeled over Viktor, battering one over the other and leaving him breathless.

 

Bringing Viktor hideous crocs so he'd be comfortable. Gifting him Lola. Letting Viktor sleep in his bed. Signing his rights to inventions away without a second thought. Storing Viktor's part of the money. Respecting his space. Taking care of him during the explosion. Covering Viktor with blankets in the lab. Laughing to the point of pain across Academy corridors. Jayce's diligence in keeping Viktor's leg elevated and resting over pillows. Coming into the bathroom for a rescue with no pants on. Being so achingly tender when Viktor had had his panic attack. Protecting him from Salo–

 

It won't be me forcing the truth upon you, I promise you. It'll be your choice.

 

You were never nothing. Not to me. 

 

I encourage you to come disembowel me at a closer distance.

 

I am here for you. You deserve to share what's in your soul and know that you'll be heard, without judgment. 

 

Viktor, you do have a normal body.

 

I push you away when I say the first thing that comes to mind. I hate it.

 

Stay with me, stay with me. 

 

I'm not going anywhere.

 

YOU LEFT ME. 

 

I can wait.

 

It was one of the best days of my life. Knowing it was there… It comforted me, I guess.

 

For what it's worth, I would like to. See you. 

 

I've hurt you. I'm trying not to deepen that wound.

 

Viktor, you're more than all of those things combined. 

 

Punch me.

 

They weren't mine to burn.

 

I would commit to sacrificing whatever came out of my hands for the rest of mine for that miraculous reassurance.

 

Of course you know me, Viktor. Better than anyone, you know me.

 

Look at me. Go ahead– lie to me, Viktor.

 

We're just done.

I refuse to believe that.

 

You haven't let me try.

 

I'm here, I'm here. I know it feels like you're dying, but you are not.

 

It's about time we gave your old friend a voice of their own, don't you think?

 

You need only ask.

 

Viktor has changed too, ma! He looks more like himself, if you can believe it. 

 

You were my favorite person.

 

If I had to choose again, I would still choose you.

 

I didn't give a flying shit about the money! The only thing I cared about was you.

 

I want to witness you create the impossible.

 

I'm willing to put my version aside to make room for yours.

 

Just trust me.

 

That person is standing right in front of you.

 

I remember many things. Don't you?

 

Aliveness holds the shape of your silhouette, Viktor.

 

What if I hurt you by mistake?

 

Leave me, dammit, but do so alive. Don't you understand? The patterns repeat themselves and I am their servant.

 

Don't you think we could benefit from one last conversation?

 

I'll be where I've always been. Waiting for you.

 

Because I care.

 

Because I see you.

 

Because it's you. 

 

And then, Viktor had yet another disorienting flashback of something Jayce had described during the Christmas they'd spent together all those years ago. 

 

He loved her until the moment he died. A love so profound that regardless of her absence, his adoration remained. His heart pumped her name with every breath, his mind held her treasured memory intact with every passing year without her. Even though she chose differently, he still stood loyal to his perceived soulmate! Come on!

 

Viktor's breathing caught in his throat. 

 

Oh, my Christ.

 

Jayce was quietly observing him between his moving fingers and furrowed brows when Viktor jolted away, tripping over his chair as he jumped to his feet with a yank of his cane.

 

“Viktor?” 

 

Jayce’s concern sounded as if he were underwater.

 

Pains prickled all the way from the sole of his foot, but they were rather insignificant in comparison with the splintering reality ripping to life inside his sternum, or the piercing terror ricocheting in his mind.

 

Viktor's glassy gaze was pinned to the patent, still perched in his grasp, as he rushed to find himself in the midst of it all.

 

Something monumental was rising to the surface. The lack of control coerced Viktor to claw at his armor, desperately setting it back in place before it was too late. 

 

Viktor stared and stared into that document, his breath leveling as he dictated his heart to oblige his say.

 

However, the one thing that armor was proficient at was keeping Viktor rooted in place as it compelled others to scurry away. 

 

It was what he'd been doing for his whole life. 

 

In a knee-jerk reaction, a frigid, bitter laugh broke out of Viktor's throat as his cruel gaze flickered to Jayce. 

 

"Jayce," he mocked, a venomous smile curling on his lip as Viktor twisted his profound shock into an eviscerating blade. "Do you want to kiss me?"

_ _ _ 

Do I want to what, now? 

 

His lids expanded as he gazed up at Viktor, who'd clumsily risen to his feet, yet had instantly composed himself. 

 

Had Jayce heard him correctly? 

 

Surely, Viktor hadn't just–

 

Jayce rewinded the conversation in his brain. 

 

He might have.

 

“Hm?” Was all that came out of his stupid mouth.

 

Viktor's smirk deepened. “I think you heard me.” 

 

Jayce couldn't distinguish the words properly over the loud pounding originating in his chest. 

 

After all of the conscious effort to keep his intentions pure, now he was being confronted for doing a shit job at it. Pushed against the wall for an answer he hadn't been allowed to consider, for himself.

 

And in the worst of circumstances.

 

Worst still was Viktor’s hurtful intonation. The blatant ridicule.

 

As if Jayce had to be pitied for having had feelings for this person, once.

 

In truth, any feeling was currently out of reach.

 

But the only rejection Jayce found within himself over the question was its tone.

 

As if his undying devotion were something to latch on to a post and laugh at until it rotted from the inside out.

 

Poor little Jayce Talis. Couldn't keep himself from falling for his out-of-his-league lab-partner. Love unrequited, at its finest.

 

Isn't it fucking pathetic? 

 

Jayce clenched his jaw, the past wound returning to nuzzle up to the void seeping into his soul.

 

But after what he'd discovered today, anger was beyond him.

 

“That's–” His eyes slid to the documents before returning to Viktor. “–rather irrelevant.” 

 

Viktor snorted, gesturing to the page with the latest blueprint still in his hand and drifting his eyes to properly scan it.

 

That gelid curve to his lips remained unmoving.

 

He shrugged lightly.  “I'd say it's pretty relevant.” 

 

Slowly, Jayce leaned forward and took the piece of paper from Viktor's grasp. It slipped without resistance, and Jayce reverted to analyse it for himself. 

 

He hummed. “I’m not sure I see what you see,” he confessed tiredly. He snapped his gaze to Viktor's. “That should be good news to you, considering how specific you are about who's allowed access to your mouth.” 

 

Viktor blinked, clearly taken aback by Jayce's calm. 

 

Got you, fucker.

 

He'd probably expected Jayce to jump into a fumbled panic. 

 

But Jayce wasn't a twenty-four-year-old child anymore. 

 

He set the page atop its designated pile, shoulders slumping with the heavy recollection of all he'd learned this evening. 

 

Jayce couldn't have the space to think about anything else, even if he'd tried. 

 

Less so if he was going to be further humiliated over a sentiment he'd been hopeless to foster. To have his intentions sullened by twisting them into something ugly. He would not be made to feel shame over his cherishment. 

 

He had more than enough to be ashamed about. 

 

All Jayce found inside himself was black.

 

Consequently, the best course of action was to remove himself from this situation entirely. 

 

“I will leave you be, for now on,” he vowed solemnly. “I will contribute to my end of the project, but I will no longer… pester you. I can't imagine how painful that must have been for you these last months. I'm sorry. For pushing you, for hurting you, for misunderstanding you, for assuming I had a say in this. For everything, Viktor– I really am. You were worthy of so much better.”  

 

With a heavy exhale, Jayce braced his hands against his knees and stood. He avoided looking at his former friend in terror of what he might find. 

 

“Don't ever hesitate to reach out to me. I'll always answer,” he reminded Viktor. He signaled to the files on the desk. “Keep it, throw it– it's yours.” 

 

With that and a parting nod, Jayce removed his suit jacket from the back of Viktor's chair, flung it over his shoulder, and walked away. 

 

It's what Viktor deserved.

 

To be believed in his pain. To be respected in his choice, at last. To be granted his wish to be left alone. 

 

That bulwark had been constructed to protect Viktor from Jayce. Specifically. 

 

As much as Jayce wanted to help deconstruct it, who was he to offer any kind of support when he was the one to blame for it coming into existence, to begin with? 

 

Maybe what was best for Viktor was for Jayce to desist altogether. 

 

It was the only thing he had left to give.

 

One more step, one more step, and he would round the corner leading to the exit. 

 

And for Viktor's well-being, Jayce would shed his persistence the moment he crossed the threshold. 

 

That's how committed he was to his affection for his dear friend– even if Viktor found it to be laughable. 

 

“Jayce.” 

 

His body stilled at the low softness cushioning his name. 

 

At the distantly familiar, rich, velvet tone curling around each vowel.

 

Following the tug pulling from his core, Jayce shifted and clashed with shimmering gold across the lab, anticipating his attention. 

 

But Jayce was utterly unprepared for what awaited him. 

 

The smirk was gone. The casual heartlessness vanished under frightened consideration. 

 

The look in Viktor’s eyes brought Jayce right back to that hospital stay, eight years ago. 

 

It was… fragile. Impossibly vulnerable. His lids had widened, and his eyes darted rapidly over Jayce's features. 

 

What Jayce recognised staring back was a look he'd never seen Viktor wear before, let alone let anyone witness. 

 

It was that of a lost child. 

 

It caused Jayce’s stomach to vigorously clench. 

 

Viktor lifted his trembling hand, stretching it slowly over his chest– an unsure, self-soothing caress. 

 

Please, he signed. 

 

A muffled, suffocated breath left Jayce's throat.

 

Powerless, he completed his pivot to face his lab partner fully. 

 

They stared into one another from a distance, the deafening silence thrumming between them, holding its breath in expectation of what would follow.

 

Viktor tried to continue, but his trembling hand hovered aimlessly mid-air. 

 

But Jayce was not in a hurry. He could take all night to say what he needed– Jayce would wait.

 

If he was proficient in anything, it would be that.

 

With a stuttering inhale, Viktor finished signing.

 

Don’t go.

 

And every single thought Jayce could have had about leaving disintegrated at once. 

 

His numbness ruptured down the middle to sprout a brand new ache, uncontrollably springing to life.

 

Viktor never asked for anything. Jayce was certain that he could find himself bleeding on a pavement somewhere and still get to his feet and find his way home.

 

The last time Viktor had asked Jayce to stay, he'd been too weak to fucking stand . 

 

Jayce's heart had bolted into a gallop. 

 

If this moment equated to that in any way, shape, or form, and Viktor wanted him to be here–

 

They would have to pry Jayce's corpse from his side.

_ _ _ 

Upon perceiving the conclusiveness of Jayce's decision to grant Viktor the solitude he'd been demanding, a novel despair had taken hold. 

 

Viktor's wants had shifted without warning.

 

That dangerous vault Viktor had hidden inside himself rose to the surface, and the nails that had brutally bolted it shut turned into ruthless projectiles inside himself. They found their mark in Viktor's collapsing armor.

 

The lid had cracked open, and as Jayce took tentative steps toward him, a vast number of things occurred all at once. 

 

Buried emotions untouched by time and safeguarded by survival surged to the front, unbridled and powered by uncontrollable factors.

 

Viktor had been so consumed by the first betrayal that he hadn't really allowed himself to dwell on the second.

 

The fact that Jayce had so effortlessly evaporated the craft he'd dreamt of leaving behind. 

 

How he had agreed to something, and done another one entirely. 

 

He had taken Viktor’s values, his hopes, his preference, and thrown them in the mud. Then, stomped them down until they were completely unrecognisable and engulfed by muck.

 

Viktor’s invention had ended up exactly where he'd feared: In the hands of the wealthy and shackled to a gradual fade from existence.

 

And that past pain was suddenly piercing. A type of pain he'd never experienced before, considering who was to blame. 

 

And Viktor had experienced pain to spare during his lifetime. 

 

Even if he'd managed to find a new purpose, worked overtime to compile further research to help others in need in the world–

 

Blowie had been special. 

 

Blowie had been a love letter to his younger self. 

 

And it had been twice as beautiful because he'd done it with Jayce. In fact, it had only ever become possible because of Jayce and his brilliant mind, even if Jayce himself was oblivious to just how much. 

 

He had helped Viktor feel excited about leaving an unmistakable print in the sand. Viktor had embraced Blowie as his life's mission, and he'd been unbelievably proud. 

 

That single invention would have been enough. 

 

Only to have it snatched while he was asleep. 

 

Only to have it tainted by using the remnants of its cadaver to pay for an operation Viktor hadn't consented to. 

 

His body, mutilated. His soul, shattered beyond repair.

 

Viktor had made amends with the reaper, only for his face to turn into Jayce’s. 

 

He'd robbed Viktor of his autonomy.

 

Of his name. Of his pride. Of his trust. Of his death. 

 

Of his love. 

 

But after what he'd been shown, Jayce was no longer the stranger Viktor had convinced himself to be.

 

New, rupturing feelings were bursting to the forefront, and Viktor’s entire body shook from the force of their abrupt presence.

 

Two realities were brawling to coalesce, orbiting each other at the speed of light in an attempt to find a mutual destination.

 

Perhaps Jayce had simply been desperate to help Viktor, and hadn't really considered a parallel existence he hadn't been fully invited to.

 

One he'd been actively alienated from.

 

The only thing Viktor had ever wanted from him was a valid reason.  

 

One that wouldn't just signify that Viktor had been coerced to stay on this earth only to have to endure the brutal consequences of his disease all over again, but at a later time. 

 

And Viktor had been certain that such a reason couldn't exist– not with a degenerative condition. 

 

All paths converged to one and the same, over time. Regardless of Jayce's intentions, that conclusion had been unthinkable to challenge.

 

Until now.

 

Jayce paused two steps away from him, a worried focus fluttering over Viktor's features. The shape of his brows, the mole under his eye, the tip of his nose, his cheeks, the mole above his upper lip, his mouth, his chin. 

 

There was something unbearable about the gentleness behind his inspection, which only sharpened the acute gashes caused by an agony attempting to claw itself out of Viktor's chest. 

 

Then, careful hazel darted back to him.

 

Viktor felt exposed, stripped bare in the raw sensations slicing his organs and robbing him of breath.

 

"Where else would I go, anyway?" Jayce whispered wetly, the fragility behind his words and the pained look in his eyes a reckoning of its own.

 

The memory slapped Viktor awake, and something inconceivable happened. 

 

In that instant, the two images Viktor had created in his head of Jayce–the one from his youth and one from the aftermath–rapidly flickered in and out of each other, battling over Jayce's bi-fragmentation.

 

The man standing in front of him wasn't the saint Viktor had once placed on a curated shrine.

 

Yet, he wasn't the monster Viktor had convinced himself to believe, either. 

 

Jayce hadn't just forced the surgery on Viktor for the sole, selfish reason of wanting him to live– even if there was some underlying truth there. 

 

He had accounted for the fact that survival would not have been enough for Viktor to have agreed to go through with it. 

 

Instead, Jayce had sought to buy enough time to present a permanent solution. One that intended to remove Viktor's strife, altogether.

 

And that distinction made Viktor’s younger self feel… seen. That version of himself that would have denied through tooth and nail that Jayce could betray him in such a way was being unforeseenly validated.

 

The treason remained, but it had considerably thinned.

 

No, Jayce would not have condemned Viktor to more unending suffering without a backup plan. 

 

And the moment that truth settled, Viktor's younger self burst out from that grave he’d been dumped in. Alive and gasping for air, expanding beneath Viktor’s skin and overtaking him entirely. 

 

Where else would I go, anyway?

 

Those polar images clashed, entwined, interwove–

 

And, at long last, they converged into one. 

 

Indeed, Viktor knew this person. He could spot him in a room filled with people while utterly blind.

 

He was his long-lost friend.

 

A stuttering breath fled Viktor's lips, lower lids flooding with a shattering recognition he hadn't allowed himself to fall into until this very moment. 

 

His vision blurred in its entirety as he glared at the wonderful man who had deceived him. At the terrible man who had cared enough to want to invent an extended lifeline– just for Viktor.

 

“I-have-so-much-anger-for you,” Viktor panted through his clenched teeth.

 

Unfortunately, his shredded voice did not come out loathing. 

 

It came out  pleading.

 

Jayce's eyes welled as well, holding Viktor's glower with nothing but unraveling softness.  

 

He stepped closer. 

 

“That’s okay, Viktor,” Jayce murmured with devastating acceptance. “You’re allowed– you're so allowed." 

 

Viktor shoved him away, clinging to the last fraying thread of his once dependable self-assurance. 

 

But, surprisingly, Jayce took another step forward. 

 

“You know what word to use if you want me to stop.”

 

Tears began to spill down Viktor’s cheeks, his chest rising and falling in a ragged tempest as Viktor furiously attempted to reel himself back in.

 

It was no use. 

 

He'd never felt as much as he was feeling now. Not even after their fallout had Viktor been this adrift as to what was tearing through him. And that was equally as terrifying as the slip in his poise.

 

Cautiously, Jayce neared with another step.

 

That vault was shaking violently within, and at this point, there was nothing Viktor could do to prevent what was coming. 

 

But his tattered armor had sunk its claws into Viktor and fused into his bones. He was lost as to how to exist without it. 

 

“Didn't you say you didn't want to be touched by me?” A savage grunt scratched Viktor’s throat as he brutishly shoved Jayce away from him. “Keep your fucking word!”

 

Jayce stumbled back. Steadied himself. “And you said my word meant nothing.”  

 

Took yet another small step toward Viktor.

 

How Jayce remembered figments of their fight all those years ago was beyond him.

 

All Viktor could attest to is that he wouldn't relent.

 

And deep down, beneath every self-protective layer that had been sown into Viktor’s skin to help him endure and live on– he was mindlessly begging that Jayce wouldn't.

 

It was why he couldn't say the safe word.

 

Viktor couldn't even remember what being held felt like.

 

And, in this unthinkable moment, there was nothing he wanted more than to be wrapped in someone’s comfort. A need that hadn't existed before he'd met the man tenaciously standing before him. 

 

Viktor had never even allowed himself to crave it. Not touch. Not care. Not protection. 

 

Not ever. 

 

But now… It was a force too blinding to deny. 

 

Jayce Talis had always been his exception.

 

That persisting narcotic had contaminated his bloodstream and was currently ruling over Viktor entirely.

 

And still, Viktor tried to fight back.

 

Another step, bringing Jayce to stand a small step away from him. His palms were upturned, as if he were waiting to catch Viktor from collapsing at any given second. 

 

And that only angered him more.

 

Fury at the wheel, Viktor rose his balled fist and struck Jayce's chest. A muffled whimper escaped him the second the impact occurred.

 

Jayce didn't move an inch. He didn't stagger, he didn't flinch or walk away. 

 

He stood unyielding.

 

The side of Viktor's trembling first rested on that expansive flesh as jagged pants fled out of him, rasping his stinging throat. 

 

The throb in his chest demanded vindication, like a wildfire that would not be put out until all that was left behind was scorched destruction.

 

Yet, Viktor was currently unclear as to who to demand it of. 

 

Unexpectedly, Jayce whispered with a thick voice,  “Go ahead.” 

 

Because of course he did, because he was kind and he was caring and he was Jayce.

 

And that was all it took.

 

The forbidden vault burst wide open. 

 

Anguish struck, deep and vile and obliterating. It shattered across his chest and swallowed him whole with a barbaric torment he’d put off for too long.

 

A cracked sob broke loose.

 

Viktor brought his fist down again, the horrid thud echoing between them while the force of the slam reverberated up Viktor's burning limb. 

 

His vision hazed, and tears gushed out of him without proper consent.

 

Viktor punched Jayce's chest, over and over and over– not with his full strength, not intending to harm, but purposeful enough to allow for release.

 

Jayce let him.

 

“You promised,” Viktor cried out. 

 

“I know,” Jayce replied, sniffling from above. 

 

"You were my friend!" He reminded with another blow. "And you lied to me!" 

 

Jayce didn't mutter a single protest.

 

“I trusted you and you, and you–"

 

“I know,” Jayce snivelled again, the gentleness in his tone crushing.

 

“No,” Viktor sobbed harshly as he brought down his miserable fist upon flesh. “No, you don't.”

 

But despite Viktor's wavering strength, the gnawing pain within only deepened, contorting his entrails with unbridled agony. 

 

“IT WAS MY BODY,” Viktor wailed, untethered as he drowned in his own snot and tears. “MINE!” 

 

Jayce was quietly crying, his broad chest consumed by accompanying tremors. “Your body was dying, my love.” 

 

“You should have let me die!” Viktor's grief grated through his throat and came out in desolated tatters. “I was supposed to die!”

 

Gut-wrenching, grief-stricken release converged on the fist slamming down again, calling for nonexistent answers.

 

Through his whimpering blubber, Viktor’s head tilted to demand of Jayce’s blood-shot eyes, “Why didn't you let me die?”

 

His pinkish face was streaked with unending tears, cheeks glistening as the dampness carved downward paths that slithered into his scruff. His gaze was swollen and reddish and devastatingly lucid. 

 

“I feared that if you died, I'd go with you,” he let out with an irrepressible, high-pitched whine. 

 

The raw pain in Jayce's voice splintered Viktor anew.

 

Another piercing cry erupted as he bawled harder, the woeful sounds coming out of his mouth eviscerating under Jayce's indisputable honesty. Sounds Viktor had never heard come out of himself, hadn't even known existed inside him.

 

What was this anguish twinging every cell in his body? How could anyone survive it?

 

At last, Jayce lifted his hands. 

 

Slowly, calloused fingers grazed tender skin until thick palms cupped the sides of his throat, softly brushing him with a warmth so familiar, it ached.  

 

He gazed into him as if Viktor were the most precious thing he'd ever held.

 

Yet, Viktor kept his clenched fist between them.

 

“I couldn't conceive a world without you in it,” he confessed, voice utterly broken and undone. Viktor was suffocating in the gentleness pouring out of that distraught gaze. “And if there was room to fight, then I would fight.”

 

Viktor's face crumbled as he wept like a scorned child, “But you chose to fight without me.”

 

“And I'll regret it for the rest of my life.” Jayce sniffled, grazing his thumbs over Viktor's cheeks to wipe away his hurt. “I should have had that conversation with you, and not in between jokes. I should never have authorized something that you didn't want for yourself. I'm so sorry you had to pay the price of my ignorance.” 

 

Exhaustion came without warning. Each strike had drained Viktor to the point where he could barely hold himself upright.

 

Viktor's forehead dropped against Jayce's chest, cushioned as his heartbreak continued to pour out in waves.

 

On instinct, Jayce simply wrapped his arms around his shoulders and tucked him into the welcoming safety of his embrace. 

 

Which only fueled his unending sobs.

 

When Viktor's arm finally slid down Jayce's torso and circled his lower back, it wasn't his permission he gave, but his surrender. 

 

The body that Viktor had attempted to forget and inebriatedly replace–only to never wholly manage to–now clutched him tightly. It selflessly sustained him as Viktor's reality tumbled down around him.

 

Upon feeling that recognisable heat stretch to envelop him, one he'd never thought he would ever sense again, another feral cry crawled out from his gut. It was like lightning, striking every organ on the way out of his mouth. It reverberated in every hollow crevice and echoed back to feed the eruption. 

 

It felt like a hand was desperately clawing out of Viktor’s throat in search of anybody to hold it. In search of another palm to clasp it and pull, as if a different self were reemerging from beneath an unknowing mask he'd worn for too long. A self that had been suffocating beneath it, barely surviving the years spent buried alive.

 

There was a clank in the background as Viktor helplessly clasped his other arm around that familiar frame. But whatever was occurring around him didn’t matter. Viktor’s incessant weeping had overtaken every inch of his perception, even if the piercing pains were slowly dimming. 

 

“I’ve got you,” Jayce murmured. “Don't worry. I’ve got you.” 

 

A large hand tangled through his hair, softly loosening his bun as it made its way to cradle Viktor’s head. Another limb secured him by the waist, taking in Viktor’s weight as he was held flush against that warmth that had once upon a time felt like home. 

 

Home.

 

When Viktor's knees faltered, Jayce went with him and cautiously lowered them both. The towering man slumped against the sturdy leg of their desk and nestled Viktor over his chest, enclosing him between his parted knees. 

 

Viktor's brace sunk into his skin, and his joints and hip protested– but he was in too deep to prevent it. He was being washed away by too strong a current and Viktor was nothing but it's grieving passenger.

 

One of Jayce's hands remained interlaced in Viktor's hair, fingertips tracing soft, soothing circles, drawing his cries deeper into comfy flesh. That tender invitation turned the black shirt into an impromptu handkerchief, absorbing every single tear sliding down Viktor's face.

 

The second wide palm attempted to drape over Viktor's shoulder. It fumbled through fabric. After a short breath, it slid through the gap in Viktor's shirt and delicately wrapped around his bare side. 

 

The graze over his skin wasn't scorching or overwhelming, as Viktor was accustomed to. It was unthinkably nourishing.

 

Which only shattered Viktor harder. 

 

Why did this only occur with him?

 

Especially because, through the prolonged collapse, Jayce remained painfully gentle. Even after Viktor had been purposeful in his dismissal of him for years.

 

“Why didn't you tell me?” 

 

Jayce's question was uttered so quietly that Viktor knew he was speaking to himself. 

 

And still, he let out between hiccuped breaths, “It-was-a-burden.”

 

The heavy sorrow clogged his throat and forbade him from saying any further. There was much more to elaborate, but that was as much of a summary as he could muster.

 

“A burden?” Jayce murmured, tucking Viktor's convulsing head deeper into himself. “Viktor… you’re nothing but a privilege.” 

 

Another sob crumpled over Jayce’s elegant shirt.

 

Viktor’s insides were emptying, and still, the reins of any show of control had been snipped and remained painfully out of reach.

 

To think that he'd been dragging his soon-to-be-corpse around, waiting for it to finally succumb to its unescapable culmination, only for someone to say something like that. A perception Viktor wasn't entirely sure he could even believe. 

 

Not a burden.

 

A privilege? 

 

After so many hospital stays? After so many hours in waiting rooms? After so many vegetative days? After the humiliating helplessness? After so much pain and suffering and inability to offer normalcy? 

 

Viktor couldn't make sense of any of it. Couldn't even understand if this moment was real. 

 

“I don't b-believe y-ou.”

 

Jayce held him tighter as he muttered into his hair, “How could an angel ever be a burden?” 

 

There was no processing any of the words coming out of his mouth. 

 

The crown of his head grew damp over Jayce’s tears. 

 

“But you don't have to believe me,” Jayce whispered with a stifled breath. “And you most definitely don't have to explain yourself. Just let it out. Let it all out. Give it to me.”

 

And the fact that Jayce wasn't balking from his incomprehensible hysteria, but inviting it, cradling it between his palms as if it were something to be protected–

 

Well, it just ruptured a brand new wave of devastation.

 

Unleashed, Viktor sobbed. 

 

He sobbed for Jayce's relentless kindness. 

 

For an injustice he'd had to live with against his will.

 

For the favorite version of himself he'd assassinated. 

 

For the guttural desolation he'd never been strong enough to allow himself to feel. 

 

Sobbed to mourn a version of himself that had been ripped away from him without his choice. 

 

For the empty replacement he'd constructed to be able to persist. 

 

For his past friend, who'd stood loyal despite Viktor's abandonment. A friend who'd lain by the door of his apartment for four days, waiting . 

 

For feeling unworthy of being called an angel. Let alone a privilege.

 

For a horrific betrayal served by the last person on earth he would have expected it from.

 

For having believed a lie, for misunderstanding Jayce’s intentions. 

 

For what could have been if Jayce had asked. If he would have shared his research before Viktor had been half-way gone. 

 

Sobbed because, despite it all, he was still angry. 

 

Soft kisses were being pressed atop his tear-soaked head. Jayce’s chest shook.

 

“I'm sorry,” he brokenly whispered again and again, following each splintering sound still pouring out of Viktor. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.” 

 

Viktor could not stop crying.

 

With each wail, blackness was being spewed from his soul and out of his mouth. A blackness he hadn't fully realised had made a home out of him. One that had been corroding him from the inside out, killing every part of him that had been born to feel. 

 

It had reshaped the entire world around him without any conscious decision, and inadvertently polluted every single one of his breaths.

 

The accumulated despair he'd repressed for over eight years was bleeding out of him in the span of a single evening. 

 

“I-don't-think- I can- forgive you,” Viktor wavered as his chest squeezed over the desperation still coming out of his mouth.

 

“You don't have to,” Jayce quietly assured with a cracked murmur, caresses unwavering. “You don't have to.” Despite feeling that Viktor's frame was composed of sharp razor blades, Jayce was enfolding him in his arms with nothing but endless compassion. “And I don't expect you to.”

 

A deep, trembling intake of breath flooded Viktor's lungs, strangely settling. He exhaled it, physically feeling more of that rot escaping with it.

 

Jayce faintly kissed his dewed hair, causing Viktor to shiver. 

 

Immediately, his inner thighs closed around Viktor's sides. New heat flooded his aching body, soothing the prickles in his lower back. It mellowed the rigidness that had been pulling Viktor’s muscles taut.

 

Underneath Viktor's ear, Jayce's heartbeat thudded fixedly. His fingers continued to coax the tightness out of his scalp, and it reminded Viktor of that time in his apartment. Of how Jayce had washed his hair and expected nothing in return. 

 

Of how safe Viktor had felt. How grateful.

 

Jayce’s body was so softly solid and firmly comforting under him. His scent wafted into Viktor’s lungs, that leathery fragrance mixing with an earthy trace that belonged to him, and him alone. 

 

Viktor's breaths slowed as he closed his eyes, letting the aftermath of this calamity settle. 

 

Another brush of lips on his head. Another thumb, grazing the side of his ribs. Gentle fingers, carefully entwined through hair.

 

Minuted passed. Neither moved. 

 

Viktor inevitably dozed off, utterly drained– but remained conscious. 

 

And as time ticked on, the realization of what had just occurred brought a new sobering reality.

 

He was lying on top of Jayce. His arms were still wrapped around Viktor's frame, as if nothing.

 

Viktor had broken apart in front of him. Completely. 

 

He’d allowed Jayce to comfort him. 

 

And it had helped.

 

Again.

 

Unavoidably, the profound embarrassment of the disclosure of a past vulnerability (especially of that caliber), as much as an unforeseen current intimacy, caused a grainy awkwardness to scrape under his skin. 

 

When he could bear it no longer, Viktor stirred, trying to catch a glimpse of Jayce's demeanor. 

 

He'd lulled the back of his head against the edge of the desk. His puffy eyes were closed, his cheeks dry. 

 

Upon perceiving the slight movement, one of his eyes lazily cracked open. 

 

Viktor felt like a deer in headlights under that piercing attention. 

 

For a moment, Viktor related to those people in the movies who blacked out after a night out and found themselves waking next to a stranger. 

 

What was the procedure to follow here? 

 

His body was utterly spent, his mind groggy, his heart skittish and profoundly confused. 

 

“Okay?” Jayce murmured. 

 

Viktor sat up slowly. “Eh–.” Jayce's head followed his movement, limbs slowly loosening their hold. “Yes.” 

 

As Viktor pulled away, Jayce's hand retreated from his hair, and his other palm slid out of his shirt. 

 

Christ.

 

“You?” 

 

Jayce's hands brushed over the fabric of his pants until his forearms braced against his folded knees. His mouth offered a modest curve. “Yes.” 

 

Viktor dropped his gaze to the floor of the lab, noticing that his cane was abandoned and mildly out of reach. 

 

“Home?” Jayce wondered in a low tone. 

 

Viktor didn't conceal the exhaustion coating the word. “Yes.” 

 

“I can drive you,” Jayce offered, clearly uncertain as well.

 

“No,” Viktor rushed to say. “I need–” He swallowed, feeling that unwavering gaze burn a hole in the side of his face. “I need time.” 

 

Quiet as a mouse, Jayce got to his feet. He bent over to reach for Viktor's cane and then returned.

 

He extended an inviting palm. “Take as long as you need.” 

 

Viktor's regard flickered to that awaiting hand, studying it from where he sat. Then, his attention rose to Jayce's. 

 

Nothing but calm understanding stared back. 

 

Viktor clasped his wide palm, allowing Jayce to cautiously haul him to his feet. Once up, he passed Viktor his cane. 

 

“But–” Viktor added, unprompted. He pressed down the new wrinkles in his shirt. “I think– I would like to… keep working.” 

 

Jayce's lips twitched. “You got it.” 

 

“And perhaps–” God, where was his off button? What in the fuck had taken over Viktor? “–we could keep talking as we progress?” 

 

Jayce gave him a nod. “I'll follow your lead.” 

 

That's when Viktor noticed the cream splashes smeared over Jayce’s black shirt. 

 

He grimaced. “My apologies. I think most of my face has passed onto your clothes.” 

 

Jayce peeked down at his torso and snorted. “It seems it has.” 

 

Viktor raised a brow. “Does that mean I look a mess?"

 

Cocking his head, Jayce focused his scrutiny on Viktor’s face. “I'd say you look like a watered-down painting.” 

 

Viktor pressed his lips to minimize their uncontrollable tug.  “What a convoluted way to say yes.” 

 

Jayce flung his jacket over his shoulder and shrugged. “No more than usual.” 

 

Viktor’s lips parted at the sheer audacity of this man.

 

“What?” He smiled. “You can't expect your comebacks not to rub off on me, too.” 

 

“Of course I can." They headed toward the exit in tandem. "Mine are based in fact. Yours, in identity theft.” 

 

Jayce gasped tiredly. “You know, I have half a mind to be insulted over that.” 

 

He held the lab door open. 

 

“Half a mind is exactly right,” Viktor shot back with a faint smirk, crossing to the Academy hall. 

 

Jayce snickered. “What about me?” He turned his face for Viktor to inspect as they ambled toward the way out.  “Anything to report?” 

 

Viktor hummed, intensely analysing Jayce’s countenance. “I think we’d need to consult the DSM-V to be certain.” 

 

Jayce chortled, shoving Viktor’s shoulder lightly. “Very funny.”

 

They strolled in silence, and despite the parking lot being right outside the Academy, Jayce still accompanied Viktor to the street.

 

When a cab finally appeared, Viktor fidgeted behind the car door. 

 

He wasn't sure what he wanted to say.

 

Thanks for being there during my mental breakdown. 

 

I still hate you, I think. 

 

I appreciate your apologies, as well as your efforts to understand.

 

Even if I don't forgive you. 

 

Thanks for the 'thingy' that could eventually remove a massive source of drainage and pain from my life. Hypothetically. 

 

Even if I do end up further Frankensteined, and that makes me furious.

 

Thanks for holding me. I usually hate every second of it but surprisingly, it wasn't completely horrid this time around, I suppose.

 

Let's not touch again.

 

A hand settled on his shoulder, causing Viktor to jump. 

 

Jayce’s eyes glimmered under the warm light of the street lamp above them, swiftly retracting his palm.

 

“I know,” he murmured, a soft tilt to his lips. “Rest.” 

 

Viktor returned the gesture. “You too.”  

///

As Jayce drove home, he didn't have the mental capacity to analyse any of the events that had transpired that evening.

 

But a sense of peace had settled over him. 

 

As if he’d finally been able to put down a weight he’d been sinking under for over eight years. 

 

As if he'd finally seen his friend, translucent, unmistakable, real.  

 

He smiled tenderly at the road ahead. 

 

Nevertheless, there was one thing Jayce could affirm with absolute certainty–

 

Viktor’s back was flecked with beautiful moles. 

 

So, yes. 

 

Today had been a good day. 

 

Notes:

TW: trauma related difficult conversations, calitalistic nightmare scenario, traumatic invalidation, longing for death (passive suicidal ideation), heavy emotional breakdown, fictional proposition of "cure" for (chronic) degenerative disease, hitting (physical punching but not necessarily violent), internalised ableism, V mischarecterisation (cruelty driven my emotional pain)

///

jayvik nation. how we feelin D:

A while ago, some of you commented asking what it would have taken for V to have wanted to stay (in the flashbacks), and, well, there you have it. Love wasn't enough because what v wanted, more than anything, was to escape the inescapable deterioration of his body and the constant (worse by the day) suffering brought by his disease(s) (in his case, by heavily longing for death). By j doing what he did, he basically condemned him to the opposite. It didn't feel like love to v, because it he'd truly 'loved' him (in vs eyes), he would have let him go. Unless there was going to be a different outcome, it was unforgivable.

except, well-- js quite the stubborn man, inn he? he really said "but why not have cake and eat it too? D:" and worked to defy the entire conclusion expected of a degenerative condition

wonder how j will feel about that slip in nicknaming viktor during a vulnerable moment HAHAHA to be fair, i call all my friends my love, my babies, my darlings, etc etc so i can excuse it

WE GOT HIM TO HAVE A BREAKDOWN AND ACCEPT SUPPORT LES GOOOOOOOOOOOO

"it was the last thing he had to offer" that hurt me to write :)

"Aliveness holds the shape of your silhouette" as he was dying hurt me to write :)

"I feared that if you died, I'd go with you" also hurt me :) and he kinda did 😭

I wrote the lung scene after reading coming home! Also one of the first scenes of this fic 🤝 so very heavily inspired by that story

Sneaky hand sliding inside the sinful shirt BUT IT HAD TO BE DONE

So many feelings. So contradicting all the time. Urgh 😭😭

But yay for physical touch I think?

I also picture v handpicking English words no one ever uses just because they scratch an itch in his brain 😂😂😂

Ps when I said it was purposefully draining, I think it's because I was curious for the reader to feel the exhaustion the character feels going through that. Just experimenting with writing I think. But felt like it needed a warning cause it's, indeed, heavy

I hope you have an amazing (however long until we see each other). Take care!!

As always, any feedback and/or overall opinion is not only welcome, but deeply motivating and appreciated <3 truly

tooodalooooo!

Chapter 35: Show yourself.

Notes:

//

I'm slightly uninspired guys so it might take a bit to figure out what comes next. But I'm working on it 🫶🫶

//

TW IN ENDNOTES

Hi beautiful monarchs! Hope everyone is thriving.

The first third of the end has been concluded! Welcome to the next phase. Two thirds of the end to go!

Officially would like to say that the two songs that inspired this fic in feels, waaaay before I started writing it (was merely imagining scenes), are
- Francesca - Hozier (obviously)
- Unknown/Nth - Hozier (obviously), especially that bridge god DAMN it rips me apart everytime, don’t shalala me when I’m weeping man (the INJURY of finally knowing you– bra)
I could write a dissertation on these two songs for these two characters D;

But honestly, so much of Hozier’s music applies to them in my head. I will add more tracks in the future.

Also thanks for the 600 kudos!

Bit of a silly chapter because I desperately needed a palette cleanser. Enjoy!

Happy jayvik

Jayce's eyes were shut for sleep. 

 

But his brain was wired awake. 

 

His body was heavy and pleading for a shutdown. 

 

Yet, despite the optimism he'd been swarmed by when he'd left the Academy, his mind was now being assaulted with running thoughts that would not be quieted. 

 

Viktor's obliterating, guttural cries of emotional pain were looping in endless punishment. 

 

Every second was torture, and you condemned me to a longer sentence.

 

I didn't want to be here! I was desperate for it to be over. 

 

I don't feel you did it for me. You did it to me. 

 

Jayce was reliving their time together all those years ago, day by agonising day. Replaying whatever recollections were accessible to him, hunting for the moment where he'd missed it. The moment where he'd been too distracted to properly catch on to Viktor’s plans, or the conversation where Viktor’s active death wish had been implied and flown over his head. 

 

Jayce’s self-trust had fractured right down the middle. 

 

He'd always been able to read people, to some degree. It's what made social encounters so easy to navigate. Everyone wanted the same thing: to feel important, to feel they mattered, to be heard, to be validated, to be treated with respect. And while it was true that each of those desires manifested in different needs depending on the individual, the varied behavioural responses tended to cluster in comprehensible patterns.

 

If someone was loud and talkative, they usually responded better to an enthusiastic engagement. 

 

If someone was nervous and monosyllabic, they were usually eased into comfort with moderate questions on topics they could rely on in a one-on-one interaction. Jayce usually followed with attentive feedback and casual praise. 

 

If someone avoided eye contact, Jayce would look elsewhere as he spoke of a common interest– it usually resulted in them tip-toeing their gaze back to him. 

 

If someone clammed up while being asked questions, Jayce would either test being silent, drop in casual compliments, or attempt a humorous comment that didn't revolve around the individual.

 

For every pattern, he had a subsequent reaction. 

 

There was only one major misunderstanding he could account for, and it had resulted in horror. 

 

If Jayce couldn't rely on picking up on queues, on his obsessive understanding of human interaction, how could he ever avoid causing harm again? 

 

You were my friend!

 

Jayce's quickened heart squeezed painfully in his chest, eyes watering under his lids. 

 

There was no getting those devastating sounds out of his head. Especially since Jayce was the culprit of their existence.

 

This whole time, even though Jayce had been aware that open surgery was not within Viktor's preferences, he'd assumed it had been the right course of action. It had been the only course of action.

 

Being a main witness to Viktor's sense of aliveness had convinced Jayce that, regardless of anything else and without a shadow of a doubt, Viktor's desire to live had been relentless and indisputable.

 

Everything about him screamed enlightenment. The way he saw the world, his self-expression, his peculiar and effortless yield to personal preference, even if it went against what the majority would consider to be natural. 

 

Viktor had always defied any expectations of the being. He'd been unapologetic about thoroughly honoring whatever felt right to him, and what could possibly be a better representation of being alive than that? 

 

Besides, Jayce's father had taught him to assume that the desire to persevere was ardently engraved in human nature. 

 

Even if he'd wavered on that supposed fact himself, he'd presumed it true for everyone else.

 

How could Viktor have preferred any different when the alternative had been death?

 

The medical procedure hadn't been intended as damnation. 

 

For Jayce, it'd been a Hail Mary. 

 

So, yes, while Jayce had wondered throughout the years, at the end of the day, he'd removed Viktor's pain and found a way to keep him around. And then worked tirelessly to take it one step further and eradicate the major source of his pain altogether. 

 

He'd never considered that Viktor's conscious choice would have been the unthinkable. 

 

How could Jayce have been so misguided in his beliefs?

 

He'd justified himself. Fabricated a narrative, allowed it to feed a confabulation, and then sworn by it.

 

Jayce couldn't bear inhabiting his body at present. It lurched and spasmed, as if it were perceiving his past thinking process as an infested parasite it was actively fighting to expel.

 

I trusted you.

 

The fright etched into Viktor's defensive posture when he'd perceived Jayce getting a little too close to comfort now seemed stupidly sensible. 

 

How could Viktor not be afraid when he'd lowered his guard once before, believing Jayce would respect his wants, only to have gone against every single one of them while he'd been at his most vulnerable? 

 

How could Viktor ever allow himself to ease his vigilance when the last time he’d made the effort had ended in trauma? 

 

And it was Jayce’s fault. That hurt the most.

 

Those eviscerating wails only existed as a result of Jayce’s meddling attempts to better an impossible situation. Despite the fierce devotion behind every single one of his choices, Jayce's actions had broken something in Viktor.

 

That was undeniable.

 

But there was no devotion worth a dime in this wretched plane that could justify such an outcome. 

 

That twisting understanding was coiling a nausea that threatened to end in vomit.

 

The fiercest individual Jayce had ever met, collapsed under the weight of his care. Of a poisonous affection, of a blinding arrogance convincing Jayce he knew better. 

 

While he'd been brought to life in Viktor's presence, his partner had been further buried in an unwanted tomb in return.

 

Guilt had taken over. 

 

Guilt for not having listened. Guilt for not understanding him. Guilt for having told Viktor he could see him, when in reality, Jayce hadn't seen shit. Guilt for Blowie. Guilt for selfishly insisting on the restoration of their connection, despite Viktor's comprehensive and steady refusal.

 

Every single aspect was a sharp knife, twisting open a new cut where no one could bear witness.

 

And yet–

 

Please. 

 

Don't go.

 

Those words falling out of anyone else's mouth might have turned into an unsought obligation.

 

But from him? 

 

They'd registered as the most precious of gifts.

 

On top of unpardonable realisations, Jayce felt like the luckiest man alive. 

 

Viktor had needed something and permitted himself to vocalise it. 

 

The man who needed nothing from no one, who would rather saw his arm off before searching for help, had asked Jayce to stay. 

 

That single conception had instantly forged a rescue out of that all-consuming, paralysing numbness. Nobody had ever managed to rip Jayce out of that state so efficiently before. He hadn't even been aware it could be done. 

 

Unconceivably, Viktor only needed two words. 

 

Which further proved that he was… unique, to Jayce. Beyond unique. Miraculous. 

 

An angel, still.

 

And in addition to that, his dear friend had allowed him to see. To taste the splintering heartache he’d turned away from for so many years.

 

The moment Jayce had crossed the lab and analysed his gutted expression, he'd found no traces of a calculating jab. No pretense, no planned rejection, or signs of a cat in the midst of playing with his meal.

 

Jayce hadn't realised until that very moment that Viktor had had a particular way of regarding him, back when they’d been close. A naked perception that pierced right through him with detailed recognition and undeniable transparency. 

 

It was only when Jayce had been gazing into it, after eight years without it, that he'd remembered. Seeing it come to life in real time had been like a punch to the groin.

 

Which also brought into focus the months since Viktor's return, and how even though Jayce had assumed they'd been getting closer, an invisible barrier had remained between them, in addition to the ones he'd already perceived. 

 

Viktor might have shared, engaged in conversation, laughed, even.

 

But he hadn't considered Jayce worthy of his true self. 

 

Not until that very instance, when those ambered eyes screamed what he couldn't voice. Where the distrust has been set aside to finally unleash the actuality he'd caged within and would not condone being shackled any longer. 

 

Where Viktor had eventually accepted his embrace, and then returned it. 

 

Where Jayce had, at long last, recognised his friend fully reincarnated in the flesh.

 

Not because he’d resentfully resigned to Jayce’s touch, not at all. 

 

But because he’d been honest. Fulfilled his side of the bargain and unfilteredly spoken his mind– the way he always used to do. 

 

That's where Viktor’s essence had always lain. In his truth. Not hidden, or blood-thirsty, put down or fiercely ignored– but out in the open for others to interact with as they saw fit.

 

Of course, Jayce understood why Viktor hadn't wanted it released from the corner he'd meticulously concealed it in. Above anything, Jayce wished he could suck that excruciating agony–one that should have never come to exist in the first place–into himself so Viktor could be freed from it. 

 

Even so, the fact that his partner had allowed Jayce to be near him, to offer contact, to accept refuge in his embrace…

 

That moment had intrinsically, irrevocably, remade Jayce. 

 

That angular, yet soft frame clicking into his. The innate coolness seeping through their clothes and into Jayce's molten core. That unmistakable body, trembling against his in search of something to hold onto as a violent storm ruthlessly upended it. 

 

Despite knowing Viktor did not want his touch, and even though Jayce would continue to respect the physical distance between them as Viktor had requested all those years ago by slapping his hand away, in that moment–

 

Jayce had been utterly useless to stop himself. 

 

Not when Viktor had been rupturing. 

 

If the only thing he'd been met with had been anger, Jayce would have obeyed and remained five steps away. 

 

But that hadn't been the case.

 

Over that sharpened fury, there'd been another feeling as something ungovernable unravelled. One that left no chance to pause or mercy to find a steady breath. 

 

Terror. Pure terror.

 

In that single beat, it'd been plain as day.

 

It's not that Viktor hadn't cared. 

 

It's that he'd cared too much to survive processing any of it. 

 

Upon being face-to-face with that realisation, how could Jayce possibly keep himself from reaching?

 

Every time Viktor shoved him away, Jayce’s limbs drew closer without command. Without any clear map, strategy, or knowledge of what would follow.

 

A mere instinct, forged in blood. 

 

An unrivaled pull, as ancient as gravity, sucking him into a feral vortex that would not be quelled until skin grazed skin in desperate nurture.

 

Jayce hadn't been able to stop seeking Viktor in the same way he couldn't prevent the universe from its infinite expansion. The urge to serve as an anchor, the primal need to comfort, the parched compulsion to feel the fragile proof of Viktor's presence beneath his shaky palms, was as indomitable as the vibration of atoms, naturally causing fluctuations in force fields and leading to an inborn ramification to preserve a structure. 

 

It was above necessity, above unavoidability, or desire.

 

It was existence. 

 

The very marrow of what Jayce was made of, ruling over every breath, every intention, and every heartbeat that, in that moment, only called for his name. 

 

He'd cushioned Viktor’s pain and welcomed it to the best of his ability. 

 

And now he had no idea where they stood.

 

With an exasperated breath, Jayce rolled onto his back as he pressed his fingers into his eye sockets. 

 

My love.

 

It had slipped out without any prior presence. Not even in the private confinement of his mind had Jayce ever addressed Viktor as such. 

 

In fact, Jayce hadn't called anyone by that term of endearment. Not his friends, not his past partners, not anyone at all.  

 

But he didn't mean– 

 

Jayce didn't mean it, like–

 

A loud groan burst out of his throat. 

 

Truth was, he didn't know what he'd meant. 

 

All he could discern was the feeling in that instant. As if that infamous, undying affection had swollen into every inch of his body, overfilled every pore, and spilled out of his mouth.

 

Every raw truth that had never been invited into the light, spoken aloud between them for the first time.

 

It’d been a moment unlike any other. There had been no barriers, no filters or twisted explanations, no overthinking– Jayce's past self had melted into the present, and upon bearing witness to Viktor’s horrendous suffering, fragile honesty had spewed out of his throat to meet Viktor's while his uncontrollable nature burst out of unknown confinement.

 

An innate nature called upon to mend. To cradle every piercing woe shooting out of his lab partner and kiss it into subsiding. If it were to be the last thing he’d do, he would do it wholeheartedly.

 

Jayce flipped onto his side, fussing to find a comfortable position to sleep in.

 

The defeating reality of it all was… 

 

There was no kissing this situation any better, was there? 

 

What was done was done, and all that remained were shreds, further torn by inescapable regret. 

 

Without conscious design, Jayce's burning eyes crawled out of darkness and locked onto the row of pillows lined up on his mattress, softly lit by the moonlight spilling from the window at his back.

 

Jayce hadn't had the heart to remove them. 

 

They were proof that Viktor had been there. That he'd trusted Jayce enough to lie beside him and actually rest.

 

That those moments had been real, and not mere figments of some far-away dream– despite the memories being stubborn in their attempts to convince Jayce that that had been, in fact, the case. 

 

That sight was now equally gut-wrenching.

 

With another grunt, Jayce thrashed the bedsheets off his frame and jumped out of bed. 

 

Within half an hour, and after a quick stop by a convenience store, he was knocking on a friendly door. 

 

Laughing echoed from the other side, which had not been the expected reception. Jayce shifted uncomfortably, patient in his wait.

 

“Who is it?” 

 

“Me.” He lifted the six-pack to the peephole with one hand. “I brought sustenance.” The other hand followed, showcasing folded pink fabric stamped with kitties. “And my own pj's.” 

 

The harsh sound of bolts sliding out of their locks vibrated through the empty hallway until the door swung open. The noise from inside the apartment swelled, and Jayce was met with recognisable features, gently surprised by his presence.

 

“I've been meaning to check on you.” 

 

Jayce let out a breath when her arms circled his shoulders. With a chuckle, he pressed his forearms awkwardly to her sides, careful not to stab her with the beer case. “Hey, Sprout.” 

 

Cait pulled away, brows knitting under her inescapable scrutiny. “You look like shit.” 

 

“Yeah,” he huffed uncomfortably, lips melting into a frown. “I know it's late. I just…” His voice trailed off. 

 

In all honesty, he simply couldn't be alone tonight. Not unless he wanted to agonizingly replay a big portion of his life and crush himself under the weight of a decade's worth of inescapable memories. 

 

Cait squeezed his arm, expression softening. “Come on.” 

 

After being on duty for so many years, with countless attempts to keep Jayce from isolating for longer periods of time, he wouldn't have blamed her for sending him away. Especially considering the early hours in the morning at which he'd decided to pop by, unannounced.

 

Instead, she made room for him without needing a single explanation. The gesture made his heart squeeze.

 

Yet, as she stepped aside, her studious gaze travelled down the empty corridor. 

 

Jayce frowned, unmoving. “Waiting for someone?” 

 

Her lips pursed in effortful neutrality. 

 

“Vi’s dad said he'd be stopping by,” she murmured. 

 

Jayce was taken aback. “At this ungodly hour?” 

 

She scoffed. “Family,” Cait explained, her modest smile speaking for itself.

 

Right. 

 

He was doing the exact same thing. 

 

“A-are you having a party?” Jayce glanced into the room beyond, feet glued to the floor. “I don't mean to intrude.” 

 

Lips parted for speech when a toned arm interrupted, slinging over Cait's shoulder while accompanied by a wicked smile. “We’re having girls' night.” 

 

Jayce blinked. “Oh.” 

 

Well, it was clear then.

 

His lips tilted up lightly. “I'll leave you be, then.” 

 

“Dude,” Vi laughed while Cait scowled at him. “What makes you think you're not one of the girls? I'll be taking that.” Gripping his beers, she swaggered back into the apartment. “LOOK WHAT I FOUND.”

 

Laughter swelled over the bright music. 

 

Jayce folded his hands behind his back. “I should probably go get more, for everyone– no?” 

 

“Why are you being so weird? And polite?” Cait wagged her head, brows furrowed. “Are you coming in or not?” 

 

The threat under her tone dragged a huff out of him, and the elephant sitting on his chest finally eased.

 

Yes, this is exactly what he needed. To be reminded of who he was before he tunneled down a spiral and inconveniently forgot. 

 

“Bossy,” he teased, flicking her forehead as she jerked away.

 

Stepping into the unnecessarily extensive living room, Jayce waved and was pleasantly startled when everyone smiled broadly in response to his uninvited attendance.

 

Sevika was sitting on the edge of one of the couches, legs sprawled and elbows braced on the back. Her thigh had been turned into a make-shift pillow for Mel, who was lying down and facing the ceiling. She wore white linen pajamas and a silk bonnet.

 

Nestled against her chest was a woman Jayce had never seen before, her body tucked in the tight space between Mel and the backrest. She was slim, dressed with a red robe threaded with violet swirls and a scarf elegantly wrapped around her head.

 

Mel's smile brightened when she caught his glance. “This is Lest,” Mel introduced. “My girlfriend.” 

 

“Ah!” Jayce lit up. “It's so nice to finally meet you!” 

 

Lest’s mouth curved modestly, her fingers pausing their tracing over Mel's stomach to silently twirl in greeting. Jayce thought there was something undeniably feline about her. Sharp yet languid, somehow.

 

Jayce excused himself to change and returned in his pajamas to settle on the floor.

 

“Want to talk about it?” Cait asked, voice muffled under the blare of music and enthusiastic chatter.

 

“No,” Jayce admitted. “Not really.”

 

Before Cait could respond, Vi slammed a shot glass on the wooden coffee table, the mischief in her gaze accompanied by a daring smirk. “Time to catch up.” 

 

Leaving his mind blissfully blank, Jayce shrugged and threw it back.

 

Vi wasted no time refilling it.

 

Jayce let her.

///

“So when can we go visit your exhibition?” Jayce moaned childishly. 

 

Mel snickered. “Grand opening’s Monday. The more the merrier.” 

 

Jayce gasped, hands flying up to loudly clasp in front of him. “Yes! Text me the details and count me in.” 

 

Not only did alcohol loosen his tongue, but it stripped away any tedious restraints. 

 

Which was profoundly liberating, not to have to concern himself with his appearance, or some brittle idea of masculinity, in order to be taken seriously. 

 

He raised a shot glass in the air. “To Mel, and finally getting her new collection out into the world!” 

 

"To Mel!" Vi echoed.

 

Everyone cheered, glasses clunked, and fiery liquid burned its way down every throat in one go. 

 

Mel chuckled, but her cheeks flushed, and the sight sent a genuine flicker of happiness through Jayce. 

 

Which, considering he hadn't been sure he could ever feel again a mere hour ago, was spectacular news. 

 

“Okay, my turn.” Vi leaned forward with a wicked smile. “I say… Everyone shares something the rest of us don't know.” 

 

Sevila groaned, letting her head lull back. Cait rolled her eyes. Jayce smiled, observing as if he were watching an episode of his favorite TV show unfurl in real time. 

 

“You first, then,” challenged Cait.

 

“Sure,” Vi accepted smugly. “I once got so hammered that I passed out in the middle of the street. There was a blurb there that I thought was a gargoyle, so I started talking to it to keep myself entertained while I waited to throw up. Turns out– not a gargoyle. Another very–very–drunk guy, who mistook me for the Cheshire cat.” Everyone was chuckling, shaking their heads. “Needless to say, we have been best friends ever since.” 

 

Cait was scowling. “Who the hell are you talking about?”

 

“Goyle!” When Cait didn't catch on, Vi clarified, “Loris?"

 

“Oh, my God!” Cait face-palmed. “He told me you met in a bar.” 

 

Vi snickered. “He was trying to protect my image, since I might've had a crush on you.” Vi winked and then nudged Cait. “What about you, cupcake? What don't we know about you?” 

 

Cait hesitated for a brief moment before she let out in a monotonic voice, “Sometimes, when I say I'm visiting a friend, I am actually going to the gun range.” 

 

Vi gasped, jaw agape. “YOU WHAT?” 

 

“They've been letting me borrow a rifle.” Her lids fluttered closed in pure ecstasy. “Pressing that trigger feels so good, Vi.” 

 

Vi's eyes were sparkling.

 

“I need to see you in action.” Flumping onto the cushions, she raised a hand to her chest and pressed it against her heart, mesmerised. “That's gonna be a whole new type of foreplay.”

 

Jayce glanced between them, rather perplexed about their dynamic, or how these could be things they didn't know about each other, and yet, were utterly indifferent to the fact.

 

But, in truth, both were quite private and slippery people. They trusted one another blindly without needing detailed information, which was unique in its own way.

 

And inevitably led to wholesome moments like this, where Vi was gazing at Cait as if she'd fallen in love with her all over again. 

 

When the laughter and chatter dimmed, Jayce couldn't help asking, “You're being careful?” 

 

Cait reprimanded him with a single stare. “You know I am.” 

 

“Good,” he grinned. “'Cause it suits the hell out of you.”

 

A modest smirk winked into her mouth. “To be a gun junkie?” 

 

“Please," Jayce scoffed. "You were shooting me with foam bullets at six years old.” He gave her a look. “I was the unwilling victim to your deadly aim. So, if anything, your childhood target dummy can attest to your talent. Between gritted teeth.”

 

Despite the grumpy tone, Jayce was smiling.

 

Cait laughed, and then her features cracked into a panic. “Oh, my God. Please don't tell mom.” 

 

Mischief curled inside Jayce as he wiggled his brows. “Sounds to me like I have a get-out-of-jail free card.” 

 

But she knew he was leveraging nothing because, with a deadpan in place, she flipped him off. Jayce chuckled and blew her a kiss. The immediate disgust on her face was a heavenly sight.

 

“Mel?” Invited Vi. 

 

“I was this close,–” her fingers pinched, basically grazing, “–to pursuing a career in politics.”

 

“You were?” Wondered Sevika with intrigue, sitting up to meet her gaze. 

 

Mel chuckled to herself. “Thank God I didn't.” 

 

Lest was lazily smiling at her. 

 

“You would have been phenomenal,” Sevika said earnestly. 

 

Jayce nodded, surprisingly unsurprised. “Agreed.” 

 

She waved a hand dismissively. “Too much hassle.” Her eyes met Jayce. “You go.” 

 

And Jayce, far too drunk for any filters, drawled, “Viktor asked me if I wanted to kiss him.” 

 

His intonation was that of a question, wondering if this information qualified for a game such as this.

 

The room was enveloped by silence before chaos ensued. 

 

Everyone started screaming, asking questions, sitting up, and leaning in to demand further details.

 

The sudden attention caused him to laugh, but the discomfort crawling under his skin led him to refill his shot glass. 

 

“What do you mean?!” 

 

Jayce gulped down the burning alcohol and poured another one.

 

“Well–”

 

A random sequence of knocks rattled against the front door. 

 

Vi leapt up, but stabbed a finger in his direction. “ Don't spill this without me. That's for all of you. Do not ask him any questions. I want to be here for this.” She slapped Cait’s arm with a wide grin. “You owe me twenty bucks.” 

 

“Not yet,” she smirked, but Vi was already heading toward the entrance.

 

Jayce arched a brow. “Are you guys… betting on this?” 

 

Cait shrugged, but her lips remained sealed.

 

Which, of course, pushed Jayce to down the second shot he'd just poured. 

 

Great.

 

“Psssst.” 

 

Jayce shifted toward the hiss and found Vi leaning against the door handle, her head motioning for him to follow. 

 

Confused, he scrummaged to his feet and met her in the corridor.

 

There was a massive man there waiting. 

 

By massive, Jayce meant… Massive.

 

The man was easily over two meters tall, wide as a bull. Every rippled inch screamed strength and power, and Jayce felt himself shrink in his presence. 

 

Which was a first.

 

This was Vi's dad? 

 

His brown hair was combed back, grazing the full length of his nape. A full beard framed his wide jaw. 

 

Everything about him was thick: neck, hair, lips, thicker nose, eyebrows, arms, torso, thighs. All of him was thick except his pale blue eyes– those were petite in size, and startingly soft. Three scars plummeted down the side of his neck, as if a wild beast had sunken its claws into him and left its permanent mark.

 

Jayce couldn't really decide whether he was perturbedly attracted to the fact that this man could snap him in half, or profoundly terrified. 

 

Instinctively, he straightened his spine and folded his hands behind his back. 

 

He was beyond drunk, but he still could… manage conversation.

 

He hoped.

 

For some inexplicable reason, he wished Viktor were here. 

 

He'd feel more grounded if Viktor were here.

 

“My dad saw you when I opened the door and wanted a word,” Vi explained nonchalantly. 

 

“Oh. Hello,” Jayce said with a faint smile, relying on his social nature to do his bidding. 

 

“Hello,” the man returned. He honed the deepest voice Jayce had ever heard– it rumbled through his entire nervous system. “Forgive my bluntness, but would you happen to be the Man of Progress?”

 

Jayce swallowed hard. 

 

Especially because, despite his colossal build and terrifying appearance, the man was also…

 

“Handsome,” he murmured. 

 

The guy tilted his head. “What was that?”

 

Oh, my God. Did I say that out loud?

 

Oh, no, that's not what I meant.

 

I'm very, very drunk.

 

“What?” Jayce echoed, trying not to glance at Vi, who was staring at him like he'd grown a second head.

 

A breath of air shot through the man's nose. “I asked if you happen to be the chap whom they address as the Man of Progress." 

 

“I, uh–” He cleared his throat. “I don't go by that title anymore, sir.”

 

The man hummed, his wise eyes deeply studious of Jayce’s. “There's only one of you, correct?”

 

“As far as I'm aware.”

 

Another silent analysis. 

 

Seemingly satisfied, he extended a hand. 

 

“Thank you.” 

 

Jayce tentatively clasped it, his palm swallowed whole. “What for?” 

 

The man's lips ticked up. “I'm happy to learn you're the kind of friend my daughter keeps in close company.” 

 

The words caused Jayce to stumble internally. The sentiment was kind, yet this entire interaction was… deeply confusing.

 

Most distracting was his face… There was something unquestionably familiar about it that Jayce couldn't put his finger on.

 

Or his accent.

 

Vi bumped her shoulder against her father's, rolling her eyes. ”Don't be a hen.”  

 

Retracting his hand, the giant's eyes instantly melted into warm affection as their caressing focus landed on Vi. “I can't help it. No matter how much you grow, you're always going to be my little rascal.” 

 

“Urgh,” she groaned. But beneath that feigned rejection, there was a secret tilt to her lips. With a swift side-step, Vi braced her forearm on Jayce’s shoulder and nodded her head sideways. “How do you even know this guy?” 

 

The man's light eyes flickered back to Jayce, and he couldn't help but feel the raw presence radiate behind that single stare. It froze Jayce in place.

 

“I don't.” A polite curve to his mouth. “Not personally.” 

 

Perfect, just what Jayce needed– more confusion.

 

“Now, if you'll excuse us, Mr. Man of Progress– I would like a word with my daughter.” 

 

Jayce’s voice snapped back into him. “Of course. It was a pleasure to meet you, sir.” 

 

He smiled softly. “The pleasure was mine, son.” 

///

When Jayce walked back into the apartment, Sevika was casually leaning against the opposite wall. Her eyes snapped to the giant man, and in the second it took to close the door behind him, her jaw had dropped. 

 

“Is that Vander?” She hissed at Cait. 

 

Well, there's a name I haven't heard in a while, Jayce thought.

 

Cait stared at the ice clinking in her cocktail. “Mhm.” 

 

Jayce found his seat on the floor once more, staggering down upon hearing Cait's confirmation.

 

Lest propped herself on her elbows, eyes widened. “The Vander?” She queried, speaking for the first time that evening. 

 

Cait swirled her drink nonchalantly. “Mhm.” 

 

Oh, shit.

 

Well, that explained the familiarity.

 

Sevika’s only sign of pure bafflement was the tension in her cadence. “Vander is Vi's father? ” 

 

“Who's… Vander?” Wondered Mel in a soft voice, her eyes traveling to each person in the room. “It rings a bell.”

 

Criss-crossing his legs, Jayce braced his elbows on his knees and let his face fall into his hands.

 

Which is when he realized what he was wearing.

 

A regrettable heat traveled up his cheeks, burning his ears. He shifted one of his hands to cover his eyes, painfully mortified.

 

“Oh, you know,” Sevika whispered, her edged sarcasm laced with incredulity. “Just the guy who's behind the liberation of the Undercity.”  

 

Mel's lips formed a tiny shaped o. 

 

“Why didn't you tell me?” Jayce inquired, dragging the hand down his face as he addressed his sister directly. “She's been your partner for six years, and you never thought to mention her father is the one responsible for Zaun's independence?!” 

 

Caitlyn was taking a sip of her drink, coolly inspecting them over the rim of her glass. 

 

“I didn't think it relevant.” 

 

“You didn't–” 

 

Sevika's expression hardened in consequence of suffering a clear, personal offense.

 

But it was Jayce who quietly exclaimed, “Cait! Look at me!” He gestured to his torso. “I just met one of the most important men in recent history, and I'm wearing fucking kitty-cat pajamas!” 

 

The corner of her mouth kicked up. “I think you look quite dashing, for a change.” 

 

“Pink does suit your complexion,” Mel unhelpfully added through a chuckle. 

 

Jayce sent her a friendly glare. 

 

Vi ambled back into the living room, but paused immediately. 

 

“Sheesh,” she grimaced. “Who died in here?” 

 

And, for some reason, her choice of words mixed with that joking tone made Jayce think of Jinx. 

 

Sevika snapped to her feet, passed Vi, and bolted out the door. “Vander!” Her distant voice called down the hall.

 

“Ah,” Vi nodded in understanding, reentering the space and settling back onto the couch. 

 

“Couldn't have mentioned that tiny detail, at least in passing, over the almost decade we've known each other?” Jayce probed Vi. 

 

Vi shrugged. “I didn't realise it was anyone's business.” She kissed Cait’s cheek, stole her glass, and wiggled her brows. “Now. Where were we?” 

 

“Let's wait for Sevika,” Mel said softly.

/// 

“Can you imagine?” Jayce slurred. “Asking it as if I were a schoolboy with a crush on my headmaster.” 

 

“But what exactly did he say?” 

 

“Jayce, do you want to kiss me?” Jayce echoed in Viktor's accent. 

 

Vi’s cackle rose over everyone else's laughter.

 

“Well, do you?” 

 

Jayce's jaw slackened. “What?! I d–” Ay. “Why would you– No!” Maybe? “Of course not!” I'm losing it. “What kind of question–” 

 

A stuttered inhale interrupted his speech, and the silence that followed was deafening.

 

Mild pity was drawn in Cait's eyes, yet it was Vi who voiced the dreadful, “Yikes.”

 

Jayce pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath.

 

“He's my friend,” he clarified, herding his buzz away from this interaction.

 

“So?” Vi challenged with a shrug. “Friends kiss, sometimes.” 

 

Jayce couldn't reel in the stink eye shot in her direction. “He can barely stand to look at me.” 

 

The undeniable words caused a muted pain to flare in his chest. 

 

Jayce continued speaking in an attempt to outrun it. “Besides, I'm not inclined to kiss anyone who isn't visibly eager to kiss me, first.” A pointed look. “Friend or not.” 

 

There was another truth that was far more concerning than the one he'd disclosed, lurking with a threat he feared there would be no escaping from. 

 

Before it could finish voicing itself in the privacy of his mind, Jayce shook his head to reset the floating pieces back into place. “This conversation is pointless.” 

 

“How so?” 

 

“Because,” Jayce frustratingly emphasized. “He wasn't actually offering– he was taunting me. Openly ridiculing me.” 

 

“Ouch,” Mel whispered. 

 

“That sounds… heartless,” Interjected Cait, a mixture of anger and concern radiating from her posture. 

 

“He's not, though,” Jayce assured stubbornly. “He's anything but.” 

 

Those sapphire eyes observed him intensely, head tilting in a barely perceptible motion. “Why are you coming to his defense?” 

 

Jayce massaged his temples before he reached for the beer he'd left to the side and took a long swig.  

 

“I can't tell you guys much of it because it isn't my story to tell,” he admitted after he swallowed, voice coming out garbled. The cold, hard, wooden surface collided with his back as he slumped to the floor, propping one arm behind his head. “But, long story short, he has every reason to despise me.”

 

“What if he had offered it?” Vi insisted. “Would you have thought about it?”

 

“I–” He dragged his free hand down his face. “I haven't stopped to consider. I don't think so? I don't know.” Jayce released a sharp breath. “It doesn't matter, anyway.”

 

Knowing Viktor, he would have never meant it. Not really. Not significantly.

 

Not when kissing was somewhat reverent, to him. If Jayce's memory served him right, Viktor would never allow anyone anywhere close to his throat, let alone his mouth, if there was any reticence toward that person.

 

And of that, there was plenty.

 

“I don't care about kissing him,” Jayce confessed, voice low and rough and honest. He buried his face, welcoming the darkness offered by the crook of his elbow. “The only thing I care about is that he's… okay. That he's not hurting. That he's happy.” 

 

“Oh, brother,” Vi let out with a tired grimace. “So you're the fucked kind of fucked.”

 

Jayce didn't know what to even respond to that. 

 

“You look… perturbed,” Mel pointed out with softened worry. “Did you apologise?”

 

“Yes.” Jayce’s voice came out flat. “But it's not absolution I'm after. Or forgiveness.” 

 

“Why not?” Cait inquired.

 

But the words clogged his throat and kept him from elaborating.

 

“Can you forgive yourself?” 

 

Of course it would be Mel to snipe it.

 

Slowly, he shook his head. 

 

“Maybe you should start there.”

 

Hearing it aloud felt like taking a bath in grime.

 

“What if I don't deserve it?” He whispered.

 

The acoustic music filled the weighted hollowness left behind by his question.

 

“It's not about whether or not you deserve it,” Mel clarified gently after the pause. “It's about finding a way to live with yourself.”

 

“It's not fair,” he murmured. “I should live with that stain for the rest of my life.” 

 

“You're the only thing that's going to remain permanent until the day you die. Don't choose self-torture because it feels righteous. You'd be passively throwing your life away.”

 

With a weighted breath, Jayce sat up again, crossing his legs as he faced the room. He pinned his gaze to his bare feet.

 

“But… how does one even go about forgiving themselves when they're certain they don't deserve it?”

 

Jayce’s stomach was coiling in shame. In terror that the people in this room might not see him the same, after such an admission.

 

Cait was the first to smile softly. “You change.” 

 

Vi leaned forward, forearms resting on her parted knees. “You grow.” 

 

“You become a version of yourself that will never let it happen again,” Sevika added, her experience palpable in her tone.

 

Jayce darted his attention between them, letting the words seep into him. 

 

“It's not always easy,” Lest said quietly, eyes ever so watchful despite her continuous quietude. “You will be met with situations where old patterns will beg for consideration.” 

 

Sevika took a toke from her cigar and sighed out the smoke. “Trust me, those moments will raise a mirror and force you to take a real fucking look at yourself.”

 

Mel was nodding along, grazing her knuckles over Lest’s cheek. “But then,–” Those light, green eyes found Jayce’s, glowing with hopefulness. “–you'll make the once impossible decision to choose differently for the first time.”

 

“And you stick to it,” accentuated Vi. 

 

Cait waited for Jayce’s attention to travel through the room until it landed on her before she spoke, her tone gently assertive. “Every obstacle is a test where you are offered the chance to act in a way that aligns with who you want to be.” 

 

“And if you consistently act in the way you want to be, well– isn't that just who you are?” Vi smiled.

 

“To freeze is to die,” Sevika told him, matter-of-factly. “By thinking you’re unworthy, you are freezing. But by constantly evolving, you are living a life.”

 

Vi nodded solemnly.

 

“You can't change what happened.” Saddened understanding poured out of Mel's regard. “But you can change what's to come. Not in Viktor, but in yourself.” 

 

Jayce sniffed, putting every conscious effort into not letting the tear find its way out into the open. 

 

But Mel didn't miss a thing. “I, too, felt helpless to my nature, once,” she confessed empathetically. 

 

“And yet, you're no passenger,” concluded Jayce, the coil in his abdomen slowly loosening. He spared another purposeful glance at each of the women in the room. “None of you are.” 

 

The corners of Mel's lips kicked up, self-assured. “Neither are you.”

 

Vi winked at him, Cait’s mouth carried the faintest of smiles, Lest had closed her eyes, and Sevika offered a tight nod.

 

Gratitude, overwhelm, love, confusion, unworthiness, more gratitude. They all swirled together in a newly formed tempest inside Jayce’s sternum. 

 

Since vulnerable words would crack open a dam too wild to tame, he said the next best thing he could think of.

 

“When did you all become oracles of wisdom?” 

 

The room chuckled, the lightness returning with a breeze.

 

“That's not exactly a challenge when you're the audience,” quipped Cait.

 

Jayce threw her a glare. “Ha, ha.” 

///

When Jayce walked into the lab early on Monday morning, he brought with him a tension that was pulling his muscles taut. 

 

His steps were edged and unnecessarily slow. Driven with a preemptive caution of what might await in a space he considered a second home, and yet, felt concurrently novel. 

 

The room was untouched, the scribbles on the chalkboards positioned to the right, unchanged. 

 

And still, Jayce sensed the room had transformed. 

 

In his own time, he approached their common desk. 

 

Except, it wasn’t merely a shared workspace anymore.

 

As his gaze dipped to the panel connecting the sturdy legs of the furniture, all Jayce could see was himself, holding Viktor to his chest, and drowning in an unscented shampoo that curled his insides with satisfaction. All he perceived was a memory of velvet hair. How those strands had obediently loosened their tight hold around his working digits, giving way to a sea of softness.

 

All Jayce distinguished was a moment suspended in time, where the world around him had vanished in its entirety.

 

The only exception had been that precious frame, encasing a beloved soul, tucked into his chest with irrepressible adoration and an inarguable temptation to never let them go. 

 

Which was rather unfortunate. And objectionably distracting.

 

As Jayce dragged his attention to the surface of the table, his thoughts halted. 

 

It was emptier.

 

The research he'd gifted Viktor was nowhere to be found.

 

Which meant Viktor had been around the lab during the weekend again.

 

Over eight years of work vanished in a blink. 

 

Jayce had hoped that by freeing himself from it, by finally passing it along to the one it had always belonged to, he would no longer be haunted by his failure to see it through. 

 

But no. That did not seem to be the case. 

 

For some detestable reason, there was a minuscule grain in his core that was still just as stubborn to finish what he'd started. 

 

If Viktor hadn't trashed the research, perhaps he would allow Jayce to join in correcting the mistakes he hadn't managed to resolve by himself. 

 

And, underneath that fact, there was a secret desire to find a future project to work on with Viktor. Anything to suggest Viktor might stick around for a short while longer before he inevitably moved away. 

 

Ah, fuck.

 

Eventually, Jayce returned to his workspace and dived into electrical circuits, sketches, and the ever-growing list of components he'd have to purchase. 

 

When the lab door clicked open mid-morning, Jayce lifted his focus and carefully locked it onto his lab partner. 

 

Seeing Viktor again caused his stomach to clench with uncertainty, entwining with irrepressible anticipation.

 

Surprisingly, he didn't immediately turn toward his nook. Instead, he ambled toward Jayce’s space without ever meeting his eyes. 

 

Viktor came to a halt a step away from his desk. 

 

“Good morning,” Jayce tried with a faint smile, even though his leg was restlessly begging to bounce under the furniture.

 

“Hello.” 

 

Viktor stood there awkwardly, eyes locked onto the documents Jayce had been scribbling on a mere minute ago.

 

“How was–”

 

“I–”

 

Jayce huffed, while Viktor offered the lightest of grimaces.

 

“You go first.” 

 

“Go ahead.” 

 

Once more, they spoke over each other. 

 

Jayce pressed his lips together, fascinated by perceiving a demeanor in Viktor he had never encountered before.

 

Even if he couldn't quite make sense of it.

 

“No, you go ahead.” 

 

“I'll wait,” Viktor insisted. 

 

The silence stretched, pulling the air between them into something thin and uncomfortable.

 

Outside, late spring raindrops battered the large window panes, filling the emptiness with a muted percussion that did not awaken any violent tremors.

 

As long as there was no sign of cracking thunder, Jayce could manage just fine. 

 

Although, for a moment, he wondered if the terrifying winds would be preferable to this .

 

Viktor was back to one of his fluffy sweater vests, worn over a thin shirt, marine blue layered over pale white. 

 

It made Jayce want to smile. Funnily enough, the sight didn't cause as much of a need to berate Viktor anymore, as it had when he'd first arrived.

 

Now, it just looked… cozy. Fitting. Like himself.

 

“I was just gonna ask how your weekend went.” 

 

“Oh,” Vikfor replied, still busy gazing elsewhere. “Fine.” 

 

“That's good.” 

 

Another excruciating pause as Jayce waited for Viktor to speak.

 

He did not.

 

Merely thumbed the pommel of his cane.

 

“Were you–”

 

“I thou–” 

 

Jayce couldn't help it– he snorted. “Sorry. You go.” 

 

A glint of exasperation at last pulled Viktor's eyes to him. “Did you want to say something?” 

 

“No. You were gonna say something. I interrupted.”

 

“Ah.” Viktor glanced to the side, eyes falling to the blackboards across the lab. “Yes. I, eh–” His lips were parted, yet no words followed. 

 

The silence extended for the most unendurable of eternities. 

 

Every single forbidden question zipped back and forth in his brain.

 

Are we okay? Are you okay? Are you angry with me? Do you still want to work with me?

 

Since when can't you say what you want to say? Is it my fault? 

 

Did I cross another boundary? Did I hurt you with the things I said? With what I showed you? 

 

Are you put off by my intensity?

 

Have I pushed you away again? 

 

How can I make this better? 

 

I've been worried sick. I've wanted to reach out or come see you. But you demanded I give you time, and I thought I'd make it worse again.

 

I don't want to make it worse again.

 

How can I help, Viktor? Tell me. I'll do anything.

 

Even so, Jayce held his twitchy tongue inside his mouth.

 

Finally, Viktor sighed, shoulders curving lightly as he nodded towards Jayce's cluttered desk. “I am almost done with the perception module,” he shared quietly. “We should start testing it this week.” 

 

Jayce's throat tightened. 

 

I guess we're not talking about it, then.

 

He followed Viktor's line of sight. “Amazing.” Jayce straightened a page so it aligned with the edge of the table. “I’m also close to finishing the final draft of the nervous system.” 

 

“Good.” Another beat. “That's good.” 

 

Jayce couldn't bear the thought that they'd gone back to being strangers.

 

“Could we–” 

 

“I should probably get to work.” 

 

Jayce blinked. “Right, of course.”

 

Viktor had glanced up. “Hm?” 

 

God, this is painful. 

 

“Oh, nothing. Never mind.” 

 

Viktor studied him with narrowing lids, but Jayce forced a soft curve to his lips on an otherwise blank expression.

 

“Alright,” Viktor conceded with palpable suspicion. He pivoted toward his nook. “I'll see you later.”

 

And there was no explaining what came over Jayce to mindlessly reply, “Not if I see you first.” 

 

Viktor stilled. 

 

With excruciating slowness, he turned sideways, his brows scrunched over wide eyes, lips slackened in quiet discombobulation.

 

“What… is that supposed to mean?” 

 

Jayce’s shoulders had locked in place, his spine rigid as a wave of heat crept up his neck. He gaped as he swallowed. 

 

“I’m… not… sure,” he admitted with some struggle.

 

Viktor's eyes slitted. 

 

“It sounded like a threat.” 

 

Jayce unfroze from his paralysis. “No!” His arms flailed furiously in front of his torso in crucial emphasis. “No, no– definitely not a threat.” 

 

He could’ve sworn Viktor’s lips twitched. 

 

“Certain?” 

 

“No, of course not! I mean, yes!” Fuck my entire life. “It's… an expression.” 

 

They stared at each other for another beat, the fidgety tension alive in the space between them.

 

Thankfully, Viktor raised his free hand and gestured behind him with his thumb. “I'm leaving now.” 

 

Jayce bobbed his head, cheeks burning. “Absolutely.” 

 

But as he watched Viktor walk away, the untamable impulse struck again. “Viktor.” 

 

He paused.

 

“Did you…” Jayce's focus flicked to their common desk. “Did you trash it?” 

 

There was no need for elaboration. 

 

Viktor’s features softened, overtaken by something heavy lurking beneath. He lingered. 

 

But then, he pursed his lips and withdrew into his hidden corner. Once out of sight, Jayce buried his face in his hands.

 

What a disaster.

 

And even though Viktor had neither confirmed nor denied his query, Jayce had become an expert over the years in understanding that silence was as much of powerful an answer as any other. 

///

When Jayce returned from his lunch break, he headed over to Viktor's nook with every intention of briefing him on the advances in his work. 

 

Except, his laptop was gone.

 

And, consequently, so was he.

/// 

To Jayce's dismay, Viktor didn't show up to work the next day, either.

 

But he couldn't really blame him, could he? 

 

The one interaction they'd shared had been a complete fiasco. Clearly, Viktor still didn't trust Jayce with his inner speculations, and Jayce was no one to ask to be included.

 

Even though he understood why Viktor was choosing to stay away for the time being, not knowing what was going through his mind was a kind of slow torture. 

 

But, surprisingly, Jayce was clinging to that kernel of hope within. 

 

I need time.

 

Jayce had meant every word when he'd replied, Take all the time you need. 

 

So, instead of letting any dark thoughts fester, he buried himself in his work. 

 

Jayce was swiftly immersed in how to better weave together the nervous system he'd already invested so many hours working on. 

 

It was a highly complex endeavor, consisting of an intricate network of feedback loops that he planned to run through every articulated joint. 

 

Each circuit had to link an infinitesimal number of unseen considerations: pressure sensors for grip and balance, shock absorption systems to soften impact, proximity detectors, raw sensory input, actuators for motor functions and strength– to name a few. 

 

Every piece relied on the others to come together in the most beautiful of cohesions.

 

The information collected would travel through fibers snaking through every muscle system and segmented module of the body, concluding in the brain. Whatever that was supposed to be.

 

In addition to that, Jayce also had to consider how to direct the crystal's energy, channeling it through the exact same paths without compromising any of the function or structure. 

 

The challenge was truly fascinating.

 

Even though they still had no real clue as to what the final body would look like, the anatomical structure was set in stone, and that was enough to work with for now.

 

Now, the question was…

 

How would he keep those permanently working cables from frying up during high-energy surges? 

 

Such a consequence could put Blitzcrank in danger. Render him inactive in a brutal instant. 

 

But Jayce had some vague ideas to further investigate. 

 

And it was rather eye-opening to discover how all he really craved to do was vent over every detail with Viktor.

///

Jayce had prepared himself to spend the rest of the week by his lonesome. 

 

Aside from the crackling anxiety of not knowing whether or not Viktor was alright, he was surprisingly okay with it. 

 

For some twisted reason, Jayce was certain he would return. When he was ready. 

 

There was no way he'd abandon the project after all of the effort he had gone through to try to reject it.

 

And that provided a lifesaving lifeline. 

 

As always, Jayce would be waiting for him. There was no timeline but Viktor's, and that's all that mattered for the time being. 

 

Eyeing the package he'd received yesterday evening, Jayce thought, Why not? 

 

Between their common desk and the busy chalkboards, Jayce got down to business.

 

Slipping into a second skin was foreseingly strenuous, and even so, he was mentally unprepared for just how much. Jayce found himself hopping in place, like a five-year-old pulling up a wet swimsuit, raspy grunts accompanying every jerk as he tugged and tugged.

 

Halfway through, Jayce flopped onto a chair, sprawled, sweaty, and panting embarrassingly loud.

 

He regretted ever suggesting the purchase of such a smiting, claustrophobic contraption.

 

But, in the name of his ego, he would not permit this itchy nightmare to subjugate him. 

 

He. Would. Prevail.

 

Once his breathing steadied, Jayce returned to his hellish mission.

 

It took far longer than it should have. 

 

After another fifteen arduous minutes of shimmying, jumping while thrashing fabric, and a direct slight on his dignity, he was finally adjusting the tight head-cap. 

 

There was an oval-shaped window for his face to peek through, but every other part of his body had apparently been deprived of oxygen.

 

Jayce was amazed by the lack of impairment to any attempted motion. Everything flowed perfectly. 

 

The balls for the mocap system were placed on a plastic bag inside the carton container, and after a closer inspection, Jayce concluded they would click in place in the different areas of the suit rather effortlessly. 

 

Upturning his palms, Jayce wondered if he could thread some piezoelectric strips to some key areas, such as his fingertips and elbows, so that Blitzcrank could recognise the different textures and pressures, considering the conversation they'd had about adding such sensors to the titanium bodice. 

 

Maybe then, waking up to a brand new body could come with some familiarity.

 

Integrating some pressure pads under his palms and the soles of his feet could be just as beneficial. It would assist Blitzcrank in learning how weight shifted and how much strength was required for each action. 

 

Since the suit was embedded with the mocap system, these additions would be a mere supplementary layer of information to those already existing data-stream conductors.

 

Click.

 

“Fuck!” Jayce whispered, the sound of the door opening in the distance halted any and all considerations with a mental screech. His heartbeat spiked as he ducked under the desk, hidden by the metal panel.

 

Soft steps stalked into the room. Paused.

 

Jayce was pressing his hand against his rising chest, willing it to soothe. If he was quiet enough, the intruder could conclude that there was no one in the lab, and they'd leave the same way they'd entered.

 

Except the steps grew closer. 

 

And most mortifying of all was the excruciatingly recognisable clack accompanying them.

 

Shit. Fuck. Fuck. Shit. 

 

According to his behavioral patterns, he was supposed to be out all week! 

 

The clicking cane continued its lazy approach and eventually stilled, far closer than it'd been before.

 

The thick silence stretched until…

 

“Why are you hiding under a table?” 

 

That accentuated, low, gravelly voice prompted a panic to run rampant inside Jayce's head.

 

The one time Jayce would have been thankful if he'd stayed away for a little longer–

 

Except, mixing with the heat slinking up his nape, there was a giddy rush over the fact that, well… he was here. 

 

But why on the day Jayce had chosen to do something so idiotic?! Why right now?!

 

“I'm… not,” Jayce tried.

 

“I see.” Another heavy beat. “I suppose the voice coming from under the table is also my imagination, then?” 

 

Jayce grimaced. “It could very well be.” 

 

Viktor hummed, taking his sweet time.

 

“That's concerning.” 

 

Jayce tried to reason with any deity, negotiating for the floor to split open and swallow him whole.

 

Unluckily, his calls went unanswered. 

 

“Are you… Doing something illicit?” 

 

“What?!” The word burst out of him, pitch far too high to quell suspicion. “No! Of course not!”  

 

“So. Show yourself.” 

 

“I… don't want to.” 

 

Another thoughtful hum. “Have it your way. I just… I've been thinking that we should be getting close to having Blitzcrank start forming sentences. They don't know they're an entity yet, but with the schedule breathing down our necks, especially when we still… need to…” 

 

His voice drifted until he fell completely silent. 

 

Jayce had risen to his full height, one hand clapped over his groin, the other scratching the back of his neck.

 

Viktor shouldn't have to address a desk. And, sooner or later, he would be seeing him in the attire, anyway.

 

With spiking dread, he dragged his gaze upward.

 

Viktor's lips were pressed thin, the corners unmanageably twitching. A  deplorable gleam had filtered into his eyes, refusing containment, even as he effortfully tried to appear somewhat impassive.

 

For once, he was failing.

 

Jayce dipped his chin, warmth unavoidably curling inside him. “Don't.” 

 

“I have so many questions.” The delight cracked through his forced serenity, stumbling into his tone. “Shall we start with, why?” 

 

Jayce folded his second hand in front of his lap. “I just wanted to see if it fit!” 

 

That gleam deepened. “And you chose to verify this in the middle of our very public lab?” 

 

“Well, I wasn't expecting anyone to come in, now, was I?” 

 

“You do realize they usually come in black.”

 

“Yes, but you said–”

 

“Are you really attempting to pass this, this choice , onto me?”

 

“Yo–”

 

“You look like a radioactive celery.” 

 

A smile cracked on Jayce's mouth as a flutter took flight beneath his ribs. 

 

“Can you not?” He demanded.

 

Viktor was properly smiling now, soft but merciless. “You look like Kermit the frog took magic shrooms, suffered a severe indigestion, and vomited all over you.” 

 

Jayce squeezed his eyes in a fight against laughing at his own expense. 

 

“You look like the inner lining of Saint Patrick's colon.” 

 

Jayce shook his head disapprovingly, his grin widening. “Are you done?” 

 

“If the Grinch shaved off his fur and was left vulnerable and naked like a sphinx cat…” Viktor paused, self-indulgently gesturing along Jayce's frame. “ That .” 

 

He snorted, but Viktor didn't let up.

 

“You look like an unnaturally stretched-out, concerningly toxic, avocado.” 

 

Laughter threaded into Jayce's voice. “Is my face the pit?” 

 

Viktor was enthusiastically bobbing his head, too busy tittering at his own jab.

 

A flood of relief washed over Jayce, momentarily sweeping with it any lingering concerns. 

 

“You think you're so funny, don't you?” 

 

“I am hilarious,” Viktor affirmed, his cadence coming out with that trademark soft complacency. “I’d say it suits you, but… I try not to be consciously misleading.”

 

“Why are you like this?” Jayce ammusedly accused.

 

“I suspect childhood.” Viktor's eyes drifted toward the top of his head as a shocked chortle ripped out of Jayce. That beautiful smile curved further up. “You look like a Leprechaun's condom.” 

 

Jayce's cheeks were furiously heated, and he was grateful that his ears were covered from detection. Yet, the glee pinballing inside his chest had a life of its own. 

 

“Did you get it all out of your system?” 

 

“Not even close.” 

 

Viktor's eyes flickered to his folded hands, conspicuously kept over Jayce's privates, before rising again, deep amber sparkling with mischief.

 

“Scared of poking someone's eye out?”

 

Jayce’s jaw dropped. Viktor broke into helpless huffs of laughter, clearly elated by the fact that Jayce was currently stuck between a rock and a hard place. 

 

“That's awfully generous of you to assume.” A smirk unfolded in Jayce’s mouth. “Albeit, correct.” 

 

Viktor's smile fell abruptly. “God, help me,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes to the back of his skull. “I could do without cocky Jayce.” 

 

“That's…” Jayce chuckled freely. “A very poor choice of words right now.” 

 

Against his better judgment, Viktor snorted. Their eyes caught, and Jayce lingered in the achingly recognisable energy freely flowing between them.

 

“You are aware that I have better things to be looking at, yes?” 

 

Oh, God, why were they talking about this? 

 

This was a nightmare come alive.

 

Jayce's defense mechanism for this sort of discomfort had always been to flirt. He stopped himself before it was too late, a dozen replies lodging in his throat.

 

Are you trying to convince me, or yourself? 

 

Let's see if you can live up to your word. 

 

Then, you don't have to tell me twice.

 

I’m protecting you from yet another, as you so referred to it once, weapon of mass destruction. We wouldn't want you to wrestle with it, would we? 

 

It was far easier to control these scenarios when one flipped the script entirely and concealed the raw vulnerability throbbing within by providing an obvious distraction. 

 

Besides, meaningless flirtations amongst friends could be a riot. 

 

Except–

 

Jayce, do you want to kiss me?

 

The mock in those words had stained him, smeared grease under every pore of his skin. 

 

Even if he considered Viktor a friend, he clearly battled a much more complex relationship with Jayce. 

 

And that ridicule was far more heart-shattering than any current vulnerability. 

 

“It feels… Indecent,” Jayce explained instead, heat persistently rippling waves across his body. 

 

Viktor's head shook, despite the faint curve still etched into his lips. “Pilties,” he murmured under his breath, already turning toward his nook. “Bring the manual. Let's, as I've heard said, roll with the punches and set up the program.” 

 

Jayce opened his mouth to reject the suggestion, but no words came out. 

 

Following through would mean spending some extra alone time with Viktor.

 

And despite his compromising situation, that enticing idea was far more convincing than Jayce's fear of impropriety.

 

He needed it. After that devastating breakdown, Jayce was desperate to uncover any information residing underneath an unreadable person.

 

Holding the manual like a shield over his groin, Jayce lowered himself onto a seat and scooted toward Viktor's workspace.

 

The silence was swiftly filled with clacking, and despite the discomfort slithering in Jayce’s veins–since he was dressed like a clown with a penchant for self-exposure–, that clipped song brought him right back to another era. 

 

One he held close. Unimaginably dearly.

 

Which continued to be mind-blowing, that it had returned. That it's bone-deep comfort hadn't been in his imagination. It was right there, floating in the air for him to touch.

 

Taking advantage of the fact that Viktor was otherwise engaged, Jayce let his gaze wander.

 

To that messy half-bun. That descent drawn delicately down his nose, sliding through that lovely philtrum, only to plump up over his thin, yet plushy lips. That indented cheekbone and bladed jawline, plummeting freely to soar anew over his Adam's apple. That base in his throat, hollow enough to drink from. 

 

And that precious mole, still intact and peeking over his collar whenever he'd shift, dotting the end of his neck and the start of everything else. 

 

Jayce blinked.

 

Fuck. Not good. 

 

You're the fucked kind of fucked, Vi had told him.

 

No secondary intentions. No nothing except Viktor's well-being remaining either intact or improved. That's what Jayce had promised himself. Any other consideration was urgently shoved out the window.

 

Why did Viktor have to ask that stupid question?

 

Golden eyes cut in his direction, as if they'd perceived Jayce's train of thought. 

 

He couldn't contain the barely perceptible jolt at the unexpected acknowledgement. 

 

“For your… discretion.” 

 

That's when Jayce realised Viktor was simply holding out one of his pillows. 

 

Warmth bled into his chest. That, after everything, Viktor would still spare a thought and a gesture for Jayce's comfort. 

 

In a swift move, Jayce traded the cushion for the manual, and Viktor got right back to it.

 

“What do you need me to do?” 

 

“I'll let you know.” 

 

So, Jayce sat in silence, lulled by loud fingers clacking over a keyboard. After a while, his eyes closed, immersing himself in how his neurons were interpreting the melody as the sweetest of lullabies. To avoid drifting to sleep, Jayce shared the additions he'd been considering for the motion suit.

 

Viktor quietly commended them.

 

Then, his partner mentioned the headset he'd purchased, camera and microphone already installed. Blitzcrank would be invited into a first-person perspective, while having direct access to Jayce's voice.

 

Jayce smiled gently and thanked him for the effort.

 

A discussion bloomed about the new developments in the nervous system. Viktor listened diligently to each addition and paid attention to each consideration with ravenous interest.

 

Even if his gaze was set elsewhere, he never missed a beat. He was ever so helpful with his interjections, and left Jayce wondering why he hadn't thought of them.

 

Jayce's favorite moments occurred when he managed to get Viktor so invested in what he was saying, his partner would seize his clacking and shift to stare at him. It was as if the divisive percentages in his brain occupied over his multitasking tipped over, deciding that Jayce’s topic was worthy of higher attention or further immersion. 

 

It was an unspoken compliment Jayce secretly preened over.

 

And God, what relief. 

 

Viktor did not seem to be in pain. Or enraged. Or revolted. 

 

There was little to go on beyond his scientific curiosity, but he hadn't throttled Jayce just yet. That could be considered a positive marker, right?

 

Chatting to him about the advances in their work was like sipping cool water at three A.M., soothing a parched throat and revitalising the entire system with a minimal action. 

 

At this moment, Jayce’s chest felt lighter than it had in years. 

 

Mouse clicking sounds filled the newly comfortable silence between them when Viktor finally prompted with a murmur, “About Monday morning.” 

 

Any ease fumbled and tumbled into a knot inside Jayce.

 

Rolling his head sideways, Viktor offered an unimpressed glance. “Top three worst interactions we've ever had. Agreed?” 

 

Jayce snorted. “Oh, yeah. That was horrendous. Let's not do that ever again.” 

 

“I'm not so sure,” Viktor mused with some levity, returning his focus to his monitor. “I did enjoy seeing a version of yourself that stumbles through etiquette.” 

 

Jayce scoffed. “'Cause you were so put together.” 

 

“I would've been if you hadn't repeatedly spoken over me.” 

 

“It's not my fault you take an eternity to voice a thought.” 

 

Viktor let out an indignant huff. “Coming from the man who took full minutes to reply not so long ago.” 

 

Jayce chuckled. “Your pauses felt far longer on Monday, for some reason.” 

 

“Your concept of time might be skewed,” Viktor said frankly. “Add it to the long list of concerns to question your doctor about.”

 

The worry slipped out, “So, you're okay?”

 

But with that simple query, the air in the room changed. Thickened. 

 

His insistent typing faltered, slowly coming to a stop. Viktor’s fingers twitched over his keyboard. 

 

Jayce braced for any possible outcome.

 

“There's a question that's been bothering me.”

 

The softness in his tone melted any dread.

 

“You can ask me anything,” Jayce murmured with returned gentleness. “I'm an open book.” 

 

To you.

 

“Why…” Viktor blinked several times, gaze sliding toward him. “Why did you cut me out of Blowie's contract?” The look in his eyes wasn't cold, yet it wasn't warm either. It was methodical. “If what you wanted was to buy time, why exclude me entirely?” 

 

Jayce's regard dropped to the floor, throat unexpectedly tightening. 

 

“I thought I was doing you a favor,” he confessed in a low voice. “I thought I was sparing you from tedious obligations. I thought that if I offered myself as the spokesperson, you'd be free to focus on getting better and working on the lung– which was a far more pressing endeavor.” 

 

Viktor’s lips tightened. “And with all that thinking, did you not consider that I'd want to shape our inventions' trajectory?” 

 

Jayce’s eyes softened. “Of course I did, Viktor. You were never going to be actually excluded.” 

 

“But I was.” 

 

Jayce’s chest clenched. “Only on paper.” 

 

“Do you mean, the only way our world considers existence?” Viktor let out a tight breath, soothing himself. “If I'm not on paper, I was never there.” 

 

Oh.

 

Jayce’s gut squeezed in pain as he mulled over that new perspective.

 

“I never thought of it that way. Intentions aside, that's a gut-wrenching conclusion.” Jayce pinched the bridge of his nose, easing the new ache unfurling within. “Worse still, after what you told me about Blowie being your legacy. It’s double the stab-wound.”

 

Viktor was quiet for a while before he leaned back in his chair and folded his hands over his lap. “And in what way did you think to include me?” 

 

Jayce lowered his arm, carefully sitting up in his chair. “I automatically assumed you'd participate through, well– me. In my mind, we were a team . I wouldn't have decided on anything without your say, but the people at Chancellor didn't need to know that. I thought we’d divide and conquer to prioritise your recovery. So, even though I'd be the one bringing them decisions, they would have been secretly ours . Always ours.”

 

Viktor's lips tightened. “Not always, I suppose.”

 

The void was slowly seeping back into his organs. 

 

“Yeah,” Jayce murmured. “You’re right.”

 

Viktor was cautiously surveying him. “But you have more to say.” 

 

Jayce hesitated. “Not if it's going to come across as a justification for putting you through any of it, no. There shouldn't be one.” 

 

The tension in Viktor's shoulders loosened, their softening barely perceptible. 

 

“I think…” Viktor intoned unhurriedly. “I think I would like to collect all of the data.” 

 

Jayce nodded, sympathising with that need. 

 

“Then, of course. I will answer any and all of your questions. As long as you know that I don't condone any of it anymore. That I'm merely… sharing the thought process I had in that moment.” 

 

Jayce felt pinned under that molten amber, silently inspecting every movement and every word. When Viktor affirmed with his head, Jayce leaned over the pillow to brace his elbows on his knees, the irreparable sadness twisting with his guilt. 

 

“Those two decisions were huge, and I made them without you,” Jayce agreed. “I don't blame you for seeing the contradiction in that. But the only reason I went through with them without your say is because you literally couldn't choose. If they disconnected your life support, you would die. Without the knowledge that those were your actual wishes, I was left with only one option. I hadn't had the chance to show you what I'd been researching, and I assumed that, once aware, you'd be on board. That you would've agreed with the pressing priorities, focused every ounce of energy on building the lung, and trusted me to involve you in every important step of Blowie's development.”

 

Jayce's eyes burned with the memory of those years. “It was obvious to me that I could never do it without you. And I was right.” 

 

The dejection was now palpable in the faint frown pulling on Viktor's lips.

 

“I’m sorry I ruined it,” Jayce croaked. 

 

But he wasn't just talking about Blowie. 

 

Shattering Viktor’s trust, isolating him from his legacy, erasing him from existence, seemingly reaping the rewards for his last efforts to bring good into the world, massacring his work, and then forcing him to live on. 

 

All of it, against his will and while he was unable to fight back.

 

What kind of friendship could survive such a sequence of events, even if one-sided?

 

Viktor’s face was unreadable.

 

A progression bar was slowly sliding forward on his screen, and Jayce hid behind his impulsivity.

 

“Can I ask you a question in turn?”

 

Fatigued eyes drifted toward him, the purple brushstrokes beneath them suddenly sharp in contrast.

 

Viktor confirmed with a tired nod.

 

“Be honest with me,” Jayce murmured. “If you take yourself back to that time and our roles were reversed, if I'd been dying over something you suspected you might find a cure for– wouldn't you have done the same for me?” 

 

It was a complete shot in the dark, but there was a thread tugging Jayce from within. One that demanded to be spoken.

 

“Wouldn't you have sold whatever was within your reach to keep me alive? Wouldn't you have bought me time and space, and done everything you possibly could to ensure I could live for long enough to reach the day I could take a breath without having to suffer for it?”   

 

Viktor’s eyes welled. 

 

Jayce didn't miss how he was pinching the tender skin on his wrist, leaving red blemishes, stark against his natural paleness. 

 

A sharp agony pierced his lungs.

 

Unable to hold himself in check, Jayce reached a forefinger and faintly grazed his knuckle against Viktor’s knee.

 

At the unexpected touch, he jumped. 

 

Jayce retracted his hand at once, but his worried focus flickered between Viktor’s wrist and his eyes. 

 

“Please, don't hurt yourself,” he whispered hoarsely. 

 

Viktor blinked, following Jayce’s line of sight, catching his digits amidst a squeeze so fierce, it trembled.

 

Slowly, his fingers relaxed and sweetly brushed against the crimson spots instead. 

 

“All of this is my fault,” Jayce continued with a cracked voice. “If you have any ill feelings, please channel them toward me .” 

 

Viktor's lower lip quivered as he stared into Jayce in silence, massaging his wrist in consideration. 

 

“Why didn't you tell me sooner?” He whispered back with obvious strain. 

 

Jayce raised a hand to rub his temples, seeking refuge from his desperate need to reach toward him– only to find fabric.

 

The reminder of what he was wearing caused a sudden sense of suffocation. 

 

“Dr. Hanne told me you had two years left,” Jayce went on, voice soothed anew. “I was stupidly hopeful that before that time was up, I would be able to come to you with more than just a couple of theories held together by wishful spit.” Jayce slipped two fingers under his cap so that air would drift in and cool the sweat pooling in his scalp. “I remember her distinctively saying to watch out for whenever you began to cough out blood, and since that hadn't happened yet…” 

 

Viktor gave him a sobering look. 

 

Jayce's stomach churned as the unspoken understanding bled into his naïvety. 

 

Defeated, he slumped into the back of his chair. “No.”

 

Viktor nodded solemnly.

 

The void was brutally ruptured, sprouting a new infection shaped with disappointed desolation.

 

“Since when?” Jayce wondered quietly. 

 

“Before we met.” 

 

Jayce attempted to swallow the fist clutching his windpipe, but to no avail.

 

“Did it ever…” He cleared his throat. “Did it ever occur in front of me?” 

 

Viktor’s eyes shone with benign pity.

 

Jayce’s tone grated against his throat. “When?” 

 

“Christmas,” Viktor muttered roughly. “Some days in the lab. The night of the competition.” 

 

Jayce lifted his palms and covered his features, tilting his head to face the ceiling. “Shit.” 

 

He couldn't look at Viktor. He couldn't unless he wanted to burst out crying. 

 

So much effort behind wanting to care for him, and yet Jayce had been completely blind the entire time. 

 

What kind of reality had Viktor been living through while Jayce had been completely unaware? 

 

Before he could apologise, yet again, Viktor spoke first. 

 

“Do not blame yourself,” he offered gently. “For not seeing.” 

 

Jayce dragged his hands down his cheeks, the ache in his heart twisting as if a thorny vine was snaking around it, ripping new wounds inside the most vulnerable of cores. 

 

He searched for Viktor’s meaning inside his sunken expression. 

 

“I kept it from you,” he confessed. “Purposefully and meticulously.”

 

Jayce rested his forearms over the pillow.

 

“Can I ask why?” The shaky vulnerability in his tone was impossible to lessen. “You obviously don't need to respond if you don't want to.” 

 

“We agreed on filterless and true, did we not?” Viktor’s focus was pinned on his hands. “You’ve been honest with me, so I shall respond in kind. I'll… use the safe word… If I cannot express myself in the moment.”

 

Viktor picked on the loose skin in his thumb for a long while before he spoke. “I was… In a strange state of both acceptance and denial, back then.” His throat bobbed. “When you spend much of your free time tending to your health against your volition, you become much more protective of the moments when you can forget. Even if for a split second. Even if only for a blink, those unbelievable lapses become sacred.”  

 

When the monitor beeped, Viktor leaned forward, pressed a few keys, and when a new progression bar popped on screen, he reclined with his gaze turned downcast anew.

 

“When we were working, I wasn't a palliative patient. I wasn't someone with special needs, or even actively dying.” Something raw threaded into his tone. “I was a scientist . A friend. I was a part of a project that sparked to life a passion that I wasn't sure I'd ever have the opportunity to find within myself again. Blowie brought… positivity… to my life.” 

 

Jayce’s stomach flip-flopped, clinging to the new proof being disclosed as if it were the last droplet of water he'd ever consume.

 

“And… I suppose…” Viktor was compulsively pressing down on a minuscule fold on his pants. “I didn't want you to try to convince me to stay. I was very sensitive to the topic, and I feared my decision would drive a wedge between us. Turn my last months alive into a constant quarrel I didn't want to be a part of. My mind was made up, and I was simply looking forward to making the most of whatever I had left.” 

 

Jayce let the words settle, pleading his thundering heart to calm. 

 

He pulled from his memory and didn’t have to search very far to come across a varied number of moments where Viktor had not only downplayed his situation, but requested Jayce stay out of it. 

 

Those weren’t unconscious denial. 

 

Now, Jayce could see– Viktor had been consciously keeping the truth from him, in the hopes of enjoying the rest of his life without unnecessary conflict. He had been wanting to avoid Jayce turning him into a project. 

 

Which he had, anyway. 

 

Jayce sighed a heavy thing.

 

“I'm sorry I made you feel like you couldn't trust me with it,” Jayce eventually voiced into the weighted space between them. “And then proceeded to prove you right.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry for many things.” 

 

And even though every word had been a tiny stab, Jayce still added, “Thank you.” 

 

Viktor raised an eyebrow, at long last glancing in his direction again. 

 

“For telling me,” Jayce clarified, pressing down the new anguish that had nestled inside his ribs. “For sharing what you went through. For helping me understand the damage I have caused with every new piece of you I’m allowed to meet.” 

 

The monitor beeped, and yet Viktor didn't move this time. He simply studied his hands, and Jayce selfishly craved to peek inside his head. 

 

How much Jayce wished he could travel to the past and reason with his younger self. Would he have even listened?

 

There was a chance he wouldn't have, regardless of reason. And that was painful on its own.

 

“I didn't throw it,” Viktor shared after a long while. His focus ticked upward. “The research.” 

 

Jayce blinked. “Oh.”

 

With a definitive tone, he added, “But I want to focus on Blitzcrank.” 

 

Jayce softened. 

 

“It is, and will always be, completely up to you.” 

 

Viktor analysed the validity behind Jayce’s honesty, gaze piercing through him, before giving a curt nod. “Good.”

 

Reaching for his mouse, Jayce watched how windows opened and closed through the screen. 

 

There was a new, confidence to his composure when Viktor stated, “All done.” 

 

“That's it?” Jayce inquired, shaking off the disheartening truths he’d uncovered. They'd still be waiting when he got home.

 

With a newfound lightness, Viktor gracefully stretched his arms skyward. “For now, yes.” 

 

Jayce cocked his head. “Then why did you nee–” He stilled, understanding hitting like a bucket filled with icy water being poured over his head. His face fell into a rare deadpan. “You didn't need me to stay in the suit for this, did you?” 

 

Viktor's mouth flourished a wicked curl. “You look like a fleshy, human-sized highlighter.” 

 

“Asshole,” Jayce muttered, springing into a stand with a reluctant smile of his own. 

 

“You look like a blinding glow stick suffering from massive water retention–” Viktor broke out laughing just as a pillow came flying at his head.

 

Hands over his groin once more, Jayce swivelled dramatically and stormed out of Viktor’s space. 

 

“Wait! If you put the balls on, we could actually test it!” He called after Jayce, mirth undeniably woven through his cadence. “The other balls, I mean! The ones currently unattached!” 

 

“Not until I find a solution to this wardrobe malfunction!” Jayce shot back, feigning his wounded pride. He gathered his clothes against his lap and dragged a chalkboard behind him to use as a dressing divider. He lasered a chastising glare as he stepped out of sight from Viktor’s nook. “Do not leave your area!”

 

“Am I grounded?” Viktor huffed with shaky amusement, now unseen. “For how long?” 

 

“Until I tell you!” 

 

“That's an absolute no-go. I'd hurry while I'm feeling generous, if I were you. Or use the restroom, like normal people do.” 

 

Jayce stopped in his tracks, redirecting his offended tone toward that stone column. “I am not walking around Academy corridors looking like, like–”

 

“The lean version of an irradiated teletubby!” Viktor finished for him, his voice raspy with laughter.

 

And Jayce, well… The amusement was ripped out of his throat before any conscious choice, causing that void inside him to flinch back.

 

Damn him.

 

How Viktor knew what a teletubby was was beyond him. Jayce felt too scared to ask, knowing the kind of perturbing rabbit holes Viktor used fall into. 

 

“I fucking hate you,” Jayce spat as he grinned, heading toward his personal desk anew.

 

“That's music to my ears,” Viktor sighed with ease from afar. “And I fucking hated you, first.” 

 

Jayce paused once more, shifting sideways with an itchy curiosity. “Do you have a problem with letting me have the last word?” 

 

There was a palpable silence. 

 

“... Yes.” 

 

And the suffocated reticence in that intonation, as if Viktor had been actually trying to keep himself from replying and miserably failed, caused Jayce to break all over again. 

 

But as Jayce walked away–intending to lock the door of the lab this time around–, clothes in hand, chalkboard trailing close behind, it was obvious to him that he didn't really mind. Not Viktor making fun of him or his unconventional forms of revenge.

 

It was actually wonderful. That he could joke after everything that had transpired between them. After such a harrowing conversation. 

 

That he wanted to, in the first place. 

 

And most wonderful was the possibility that Viktor's seemingly dissipated silliness might be making a raging comeback. 

 

Out of everything, that brought Jayce the most comforting joy of all. 

Notes:

TW: Drinking, inner monologue + conversations regarding trauma (being unworthy of forgiveness, unconsented operation, justification for hurting others, passive ideation), nonsensical science, self-harm

Yall. I usually just transcribe the movie ongoing in my head, but after the last chapter, my brain was silent. There was no next scene, no nothing but crickets.

If anyone is angry theres no v pov yet, you can blame roxi, it was her idea :) i absolve myself of any crimes

V FELL FIRST BUT J FELL HARDER, THOSE ARE THE FACCS (even if js a little unaware still, that oblivious, terrified man)

Yes I am aware both described their love for each other through atoms, except in their personal essence because I thought it was romantic sue me

Jayce: i dont wanna talk about it
Jayce after a couple shots: AND THEEEEEEEEEN, GET THIS–

Lean on your friends when you need em ;)

J drunk and flustered over vander is extremely cute to me. Hammerhound peeking around the corner

That awkward encounter of ‘were seeing each other for the first time after we unexpectedly cried in each others arms, confessed some shit we cant unconfess, and ended up cuddling’ was painful to write

Brainy, that section where j is trying not to flirt is in part because I thought youd call v for being full of shit, so, you’ve now officially infiltrated the pentagon

I really, really missed vs silliness D; we must bring him back (also those jabs were the stupidest thing ive ever written x))

I hope you have an amazing (however long until we see each other). Take care!!

As always, any feedback and/or overall opinion is not only welcome, but deeply motivating and appreciated <3 truly

tooodalooooo!

Notes:

PLAYLIST by our amazing commenter, brainy.
dude this is my first ever fic and first time ever sharing something mine and im shittin maself, if youre reading this thank you so much for taking the time :)))

any feedback is not only welcome but appreciated <3

Also I just created a tumblr so we can stay in touch! come share your arcane memes @SchrodinGenders