Chapter 1: I Can’t See It Now
Summary:
Wedding day
Chapter Text
To say that Viktor was nervous would be an understatement. The man’s nerves were frayed, shot and bare. Every tick of the clock that hung on top of the fireplace a cold reminder of his cruel fate.
He adjusts his red tie, straightens his white suit, expensive and crisp, as he glances at his lithe figure in the full length mirror that stands in a corner of the vast bedroom he temporarily called his own. The colors of the Talis house painted all over him. Gold and dark red embroidered into his suit, in places where it would make his figure stand out. He turns, glimpses at the delicate open back design of the suit. The cut out lined with lace patterns that give way to four gold chains, creating an intricate design on his back, almost regal in the way they seamlessly blend in with the permanent deep purple knobs that adorn his spine. The brace wrapped around his leg had been replaced with a golden one. Its design more for appearances rather than practicality. They had stripped him of his cane—the beasts he called his future partner’s security detail. All for show, all for the many eyes that would be glued on them when they vowed a never ending love that simply didn’t exist. Nonetheless, he can still stand to his full height. Albeit a bit awkward and at an angle, but he’d be aided by Vander when he walked down—oh, god—
…when he walked down the aisle.
The deep bags under Viktor’s eyes should be a tell of how much sleep he’s truly gotten over the past week. Briefly, he wondered if this truly was worth it. If peace between Zaun and Piltover was truly worth the price of his freedom. After all, he’d have to marry a councilor that for all he knew would treat him like the dirt stuck at the bottom of his shoe. He had avoided meeting the man, opting to stay cooped up in his temporary chamber.
Janna, whose idea was it to have his nuptials be the condition to gain Zaun’s independence?
Oh.
Right.
Both his fathers, Silco and Vander, had met with the Council members a few months prior and this had been the requisite. Their eldest offspring, an Omega, was to wed the face of Piltover.
Tedious and bothersome, but a necessity for progress, Silco had mockingly repeated what councilor Talis had said in their meeting. A means to keep retaliation from both cities coming to fruition.
Viktor supposes he should count himself lucky. At least he’d be marrying an attractive man. For Jayce Talis was known as Piltover’s Golden Boy. There were paintings and posters of him all over the city when he had traveled here from Zaun. The man truly was a Poster Boy with that bright smile of his and clean shaven look that gave him an air of innocence.
He steps away from the mirror, winces in pain as his knee starts acting up. Maybe he should’ve put together a chamomile tea to help him sleep, knowing how it is crucial for days where his knee would ache.
A knock on the door has him taking a seat at the edge of his temporary bed, much more grand and comfortable than the one he had back home.
“Come in,” he croaks, clearing his throat.
Vander and Silco walk in, arms linked together. The perfect spouses, his parents were. Viktor tries to reel back his scent. Vanilla turned sour as it echoed the thoughts clearly running a thousand miles per minute in his head.
“We know this is a lot, Viktor,” it is Vander who speaks. “We are tired of the unnecessary bloodshed.”
“Our dear son understands that sacrifices must be made,” Silco intercepts, tone matter of fact.
The pang that spreads in his chest is painful. Viktor grips the sheets of his bed, jaw clenched. Angry and resentful in his deafening silence.
Of course he understood. A sacrifice must be made for the greater good. He was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that said sacrifice was for the future of both cities and not just his own. Comfort for many at the expense of his own. It is a kind of hurt that can’t be screamed, just whispered. The type that will linger in the quiet moments.
Viktor shrugs, not wanting to look at his dad Vander when he speaks. “You carried me in your womb for nine months, father. Raised me and allowed me to bloom in the face of adversity, yet discard me for what? Political gain? Politician’s whims?”
For Viktor was eloquent and well versed in the ways of societal norms. Well studied despite where he grew up in and well mannered if he so wished. Pettiness, however, he was not above.
“Our son,” Vander takes a knee right in front of him. The Omega’s nature so tender and caring. A large hand settles on his cheek, “you are everything to us. You and your sisters hold our hearts. We are not discarding you. Please know this.”
Viktor melts, swallowing past the pettiness lumped in his throat at the tender affection only Vander ever showed him. “I know, I know.”
Viktor closes his eyes.
“Vander, it is time,” Silco reminds them.
Vander sighs, presses his forehead against Viktor’s in his act of affection. He scents him a few times for good measure, making sure his Omega son was somewhat relaxed before standing up. He extends a hand to Viktor, who haltingly takes it. A firm, loving squeeze to his hand later and they’re walking out.
The ceremony is being held in the Talis Estate. The grandeur of it should’ve been a reassuring way for Viktor to know that he will be taken care of and that he would never want for anything ever again.
It wasn’t.
It was just a reminder to him of the freedom that was being snuffed from right under his nose.
He had to take a few shuddering breaths as he walked towards the entrance, hanging on to Vander’s arm for dear life. Silco had walked ahead to join the rest of the crowd sat outside, filled with council members, enforcers, Zaun’s and Piltover’s most important figures, and close friends and family.
The bells began to ring on the outside, a signal for the ceremony that was beginning. Viktor’s beating heart began to quicken its pace as the heavy oak doors opened. The sun didn’t filter through. It was a dying orb in the background. The sky bleeding reds and yellows and oranges that seem dulled out in the gold of his eyes.
So he walks.
Past the breathtaking entrance to the elegant garden. Momentarily transformed to a fairytale setting with its draped fairy lights over the towering trees that created a canopy of soft, golden glow. White roses and delicate orchids form an archway that he passes through, like an entrance to the end of his life as he knows it.
“Councilor Talis is the only one we would accept for you,” Vander whispers discreetly beside him. The people staring at him, the hushed conversations and incredulous staring felt overwhelming. Not to mention the mix of scents from Alphas and Omegas alike. It was too much. He felt the urge to run. As far away as his bad knee could take him.
The clack-clack sound his polished shoes make on the marble pathway only serves to send his nerves into disarray. Everything is so perfect—the manicured lawn, the blooming flowerbeds, all leading to the opulent altar at the end.
The hand not hanging on to Vander for support twitching in anxious anticipation. His knee burned from the strain he was putting it through, but Viktor endured. He’d be damned if he let it show to the pompous crowd around him. Closing his hand into a fist, he keeps on walking. For once, holding his head up high and eyes fixed on the—oh, okay—on the ruggedly handsome man standing at the altar.
Jayce Talis looked nothing like the posters he had seen plastered all over the city. Tousled dark hair frames his face in strands that fall forward unevenly. Jayce has a full blown beard going and a thoughtful, almost solemn, expression on his face. The man wears a blazer similar to Viktor’s, except it does not have an open back and instead of white pants, they’re black with maroon accents down each side. He stands there, polite as ever, with his hands tucked behind his back. The Alpha looked like a caged beast, if Viktor dared to say.
Their eyes lock for a moment, brief and fleeting, but enough to have Viktor’s heart skip a beat.
“Who presents the spouse to be?” Asks the priest, probably in her late forties, blue eyes flicking from Viktor to Vander.
“Vander, his father,” Vander responds.
Immediately, Jayce extends a hand, waiting and expectant.
Viktor gives Vander one last look, face still stoic. Vander nods, pressing their foreheads together one last time, and melts into the background. It is only Viktor and Jayce now. Viktor walks up the few steps, knee burning hot, before taking the hand that had been extended to him.
Their eyes remain locked this time. Not heated in any way, just filled with curiosity towards one another. The heavy, calloused hand in his, filled with the expectations that this joint partnership will bring. His heart starts gearing up again, golden orbs fleet away to the Alpha’s chapped lips instead. Wondering if this would be someone he’d mate if they were under regular circumstances. Probably not. Jayce, for all Viktor was aware of, would never settle his breathtaking eyes on him. An imperfect being.
As if sensing his thoughts, Jayce squeezes his hand, rubbing a comforting thumb over the back of Viktor’s hand. Back and forth, back and forth, as the priest keeps talking. The sun had finished its decent, fairy lights now casting a warm glow over Jayce’s features that revealed a vulnerability that hadn’t been there before.
Viktor doesn’t have much time to process the look. The priest is nearing the end of her speech. Asking the important question to Jayce first. “Do you, Jayce Talis, take Viktor of Zaun to love and to hold through sickness and in health, from this day forth until death do you apart?”
Viktor watches as Jayce’s apple bobs up and down. His eyes suddenly going wide and the hands gripping his own tightening almost painfully. A sign that he’s nervous, too.
“I do,” Jayce responds.
“Do you, Viktor of Zaun, take Jayce Talis to love and to hold through sickness and in health, from this day forth until death do you apart?” She asks Viktor.
Not breaking eye contact, Viktor hesitates for a brief second before echoing Jayce’s response, “I do.”
“You may kiss your spouse,” the priest says.
Viktor swallows. Jayce runs his hands down Viktor’s arms, moves them to his waist, and pulls him in for a quick kiss. Impersonal, cold. No pretending there, surprisingly. The Alpha’s fiery scent grows acrid and his sour. That’s all Viktor focuses on. Knowing that later they’d have to consummate their marriage.
The crowd cheers, but it feels all wrong. He knows they’re cheering for the treaty, for finally having peace. To Viktor, though, they’re cheering for the end of his free will. Everything becomes background noise in his mind. Jayce’s hand on the small of his bare back ushers him off the altar and directs him to an arrangement of tables next to what looks like a maze. Each one decorated with fine china, gold trimmed glassware, red cloths, flickering candles and an arrangement of seasonal flowers. A harp player is producing hauntingly sweet melodies on a stage near the head table.
Viktor tries not to wince as Jayce paces a little too quick for his liking, his knee close to giving out that night. Wait staff buzzes about, Piltover’s elite and Zaun’s most wanted sat together, uncomfortably so. Jayce makes a toast, but Viktor is not there mentally. He can’t hear it. It’s something about marking a new beginning, a new era of prosperity. Something very on brand for him.
Viktor stands on cue, Jayce placing his hand once again at the small of his back and, surprisingly this time, letting it linger for more than necessary on his bare skin. The warmth of it remains long after it is gone. Viktor eyes him from the corner of his eye, looking up to notice the forced smile on his face but the curiosity in his eyes easy to placate.
Yeah, just as he thought, for show. All for show.
The night moves on slowly. Everyone coming up to congratulate them. Viktor is glad Jayce does all the talking. He joins only when absolutely necessary or when his family extends their gratitude and heartfelt congratulations. Or when Mel Medarda, in all her elegant glory, saunters up to them in a very slow walk. Her hips swaying side to side effortlessly. Viktor doesn’t miss the way Jayce’s eyes hold the Alpha’s for a little too long before averting. Jayce’s jaw tensing, knuckles white from the fist he is making under the table.
“Congratulations, Councilor Talis, on your lovely mate,” Mel raises the golden flute in her hand and toasts in their honor. Viktor mirrors the motion as does Jayce. All mechanical. All for show. The air between them is thick and Viktor wants to find out why.
Mel and Viktor’s gaze meet. There’s a flicker of something Viktor doesn’t recognize in her olive gaze, but it’s gone far too quick for him to discern.
“Councilor Medarda,” it is Viktor who addresses her. Viktor doesn’t know what possesses him, but he lays a hand on Jayce’s arm and firmly squeezes. “It is a pleasure to join my dear husband in this new alliance. Let us hope for prosperity between the two cities.”
His voice sounds foreign even to his ears. His smile by all means fake, but it is enough to please Councilor Medarda’s interest—whatever her interest was.
“I assure you Councilor Talis is a gentleman. Do not let his current appearance fool you,” she sips on her wine glass, a beautifully sculpted brow raised, a coy smile playing on her lips.
“Eh, rugged as he is, is how I prefer them. Better to boss around in the bedroom,” Viktor muses, which has Jayce choking on the liquid that had been halfway down his throat and Mel’s eyes growing alarmingly wide as she clutches at the gold chain around her delicate neck.
A lie, really. Viktor was still a stranger to the adventures of the bedroom. Choosing to wait for true love. He had fooled around, gone down on one man and one woman, just to see what it was like. But never further than that. They didn’t need to know that, though. He could pretend tonight that he was more versed in the ways of carnal sin.
Mel clears her throat gently, nods, and walks away with a tight smile.
Hah. He would probably be reprimanded for that later on, but he didn’t give two shits at the moment. Viktor had every right to be a cheeky bastard. Specially on his wedding day. The night continues like this. Viktor had grown bored of being polite, so he always made a comment here and there when the Piltover elites would come congratulate them. Lay a hand suggestively on Jayce, act like he couldn’t wait to get his hands on other places. Leaning in close to whisper absolutely nothing in his ear. Just to keep up the pretense that they were both happy about this.
Viktor couldn’t help but notice the way Jayce’s eyes kept drifting over to where stunningly beautiful Mel Medarda was sitting with the other Council members and Viktor’s parents. Or how Mel returned his wistful stare. Viktor didn’t know how to feel about that yet.
“You got some bite,” Jayce’s says beside him, now leaning in closer to him after Councilor Salo had come to congratulate them. They were a little too close for Viktor’s comfort, but he had to remind himself Jayce was also playing his part. “I will not hear the end of this at the next council meeting.”
“I would apologize, dear husband,” Viktor purrs, his accent growing heavy, turning his head to face him. Their faces mere inches from one another. Intimate to anyone else looking in, yet tense on the inside and far from it. “But I could not care less.” Then drowns the liquid in the flute in his hand before he leans into Jayce’s ear to whisper, “I am done with fake pleasantries. Perhaps we should retire and get this farce over with? Or do you want to keep ogling at Mel Medarda a little longer, hmm?”
Jayce’s smile falters, the grip on his glass tightening. Maybe Viktor was being a little cruel, but as he kept drinking throughout the night his tongue got more loose.
“Fine by me,” Jayce huffs out, tight. He stands, grabbing a fork to clink his glass, quickly catching everyone’s attention. “We hope you are enjoying yourselves, everyone. We will be retiring for the night,” he extends a hand to Viktor, who takes it immediately and hooks his arm into Jayce’s. Suggestively leaning into him, playing his part a little too well. “Please stay to enjoy the rest of the festivities. There is plenty of Noxian Wine to go around. But you didn’t hear it from me. To progress!”
A couple laughs ring out from the crowd—Noxian wine an illegal trade—and everyone is echoing his last two words. They start walking away from the table and onto the marble path that led back to the house. Viktor did not glance towards his parents, knowing full well that he’d break down and run to them. Nor did he glance towards Ximena Talis, Jayce’s mom, in spite of her supportive nature when Viktor got to the house, or his sisters, Powder and Vi. Opting to lean heavily onto Jayce for physical support instead of emotional because he truly felt alone at that moment.
Viktor tried to ignore how his stomach dropped as they went up the winding set of stairs that led to the east wing of the estate, opposite from the west wing where he had been residing. The halls lit up by gas lanterns that casted the space in an eerie glow. His heart wreaking chaos in his chest.
Yes, this treaty was worth it.
But Gods, did his heart ache so much for the future that had been thrusted upon him without even a thought to what he wanted. It was a day of celebration for Zaun and Piltover alike, but to Viktor it was a day of mourning. For his fate had been decided and sealed to an Alpha that simply did not love him.
Notes:
Hoping this fic is maybe five or less chapters long. MAYBE more. We’ll see.
Chapter 2: Stained
Summary:
They go through with their duties for the night.
Jayce is not a gentleman.
Notes:
Stained by Linkin Park
Warning: This is a little dubious consent. On this chapter and future ones.
Also, it’s a slow burn in the terms of the romantic tone of things :’)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Viktor walks into Jayce’s bedroom, the air heavy with expectation. His scent still sour, but less so knowing that Jayce is just as uncomfortable with the whole ordeal. They had agreed to make quick work of it. Like an assignment that needed to be completed, they would get it done as quickly as possible. It was duty that held them together, after all.
… but was it so wrong to wish for a little bit of affection?
It was Viktor’s first time. Unknown to Jayce. So it should at least feel a little special, should it not?
Jayce shuts the door behind him. It’s heavy wood echoing in the chamber as it creaks close. Viktor comes to a stand still in front of the four poster canopy bed, decorated with red rose petals along with an arrangement of pillows and blankets made to be comfortable and inviting—almost like a nest—but only serving to look daunting and hauntingly creepy. The rich red, draped curtains gathered and tied on each side make his stomach drop in anxiety—another cage.
The world falls back as his mind starts racing with frantic thoughts. A realization hits him like a brick to the face.
This is where he loses his virginity.
To an Alpha he didn’t love.
He almost wants to cry.
Almost.
Viktor wondered if he would grow to love Jayce or if Jayce would even want to touch him after this. Probably not, considering how he had been staring at Mel throughout the night. Scandalous, really, that two Alphas would be in that sort of entanglement. So out of norm. Two councilors, nonetheless. Naive he was not, so he was quick to connect the dots. His body held some innocence, but his father Silco had made sure to instill a cunning hand onto him so no one would take advantage of him. Viktor was no one to judge, though. He believed in loving everyone equally, regardless of race, status, dynamic, or—erm, species. It was just a surprise, that’s all.
The approaching foot steps warn him of the Alpha’s looming body behind him. The hairs on the back of his neck standing up. His instincts are reacting unwillingly at the commanding presence. Almost feeling, rather than seeing, the hand lingering in the air above his bare back. Like a ghost, its presence eerie.
Viktor’s shoulders tense and he turns slightly to side eye Jayce with unmasked flagrant repulsion. Not at the Alpha, per se, but at the thought of what they were about to do. It is out before he can control his facial features. But it is enough to have Jayce’s demeanor change completely, a full 180. He watches from the corner of his eyes as Jayce begins to undo his tie. Hooking his finger into the knot and pulling hard, jaw clenching as he discards the flimsy piece of cloth over his shoulder.
When he speaks, it is not kind nor to offer any words of comfort.
“Undress.”
The Alpha’s scent still acrid but with the fire coming alive at the promise of sex close by.
Viktor loudly swallows, fingers moving to undo the buttons on the suit that suddenly made him feel safe, the last barrier before he was claimed like a prize. He wanted to make himself small, shy away from the Alpha’s touch but knew this was something he had to do. There will be no running away. For the rest of his life this will be all he gets. Orders barked out, loveless glances and impersonal touches.
One by one the buttons are pushed out from their enclosure.
One by one the beats of his heart begin to pick up pace, bringing with it a clammy sweat on his nape.
He leans down, hissing at the way his knee complains when he takes it out of the horrendous brace, but still too proud to let it hinder him, to let the physical weakness win.
The dress pants come down first.
Then his underwear.
The pieces of clothing falling down like his value.
His merits.
His morals.
His backless blazer falls next.
Piece by piece gone until he is left feeling like the undercity scum that Pilties call Zaunites with the way he could just feel Jayce’s heavy gaze on him. Scrutinizing every inch of him—all his imperfections.
Pooling at his feet as he stands there, bare and raw in the lithe form of his body. So demoralizing as he tries to stand to his full height. The tenuous control of his emotions almost snapping.
Until he hears it—the barely audible intake of breath from behind him. It was quick and almost silent, but enough to let Viktor know Jayce was affected. And that…
Well…
and that, had a sense of longing lodging itself inside him that had no business being there.
A large, calloused hand settles on his waist, almost exploring in nature. Grips the skin there, firmly squeezing, before traveling down to the curve of his spine, lightly grazing over the knobs that protrude from it, and settling firmly on the swell of his ass. Intimate, almost. Warm. Viktor has to bite his lip to keep from sighing. The sensation that crawls up his back unbidden—a heavy throb settling repeatedly in his core.
This wasn’t… this wasn’t supposed to feel like anything but an exchange of goods. Of political goods. Of duty. So he forced himself to remain still and impartial to these sensations that were threatening to make him melt.
“Relax,” Jayce chastises, the sound of his belt hitting the floor making Viktor wince, still not seeing but knowing that the Alpha was completely naked now. “All that talk earlier and you’re acting like you’ve never been properly bedded before.”
Jayce says it while pressing himself against his back and Viktor feels the… the thing that’s supposed to be entering him, making him shut his eyes tight as his body remains fixated towards the bed, not facing the Alpha at all for fear of what he’ll see on that ruggedly handsome face.
But what would he see?
Disgust?
It’s not all the way hard, it’s soft almost, but it’s enough to have his heart threatening to beat out of his chest. His thoughts a jumbled mess.
Attraction, maybe?
“The presenting position. Now.” Jayce orders, a little too breathless. A little too affected for Viktor’s liking because he finds his body reacting again with a shiver at the thought of being dominated.
Treacherous instincts.
Honestly, he couldn’t get down on the position without the consequences that were sure to follow the next day. He’d need his cane and lots of bed rest. Wanted to postpone the bedding until the morrow, if possible. But he’d be damned if he let Jayce Talis know that.
For what? So he could pity him?
Stubbornly, he wills himself to crawl onto the bed. Hands first, then his knees, doing his best to ignore the stabs of pain prickling his knee. Feeling like he was settling atop a bed of needles instead of the soft silk sheets. Still, he proceeds to spread his legs out, arches his back beautifully. Like he saw on the biology textbooks back in school.
A machine that’s running out of battery, his movements mechanical and forced.
Jayce is quiet for a moment. The air heavy, thick and tense with the weight of expectation once again. He feels the shift on the bed, Jayce settling behind him along with his sinking heart. A cold finger pressing to his entrance, rough and impersonal. A disapproving tsk from Jayce at the dryness. Barely wet to accommodate anything.
“I need to get some work done, hold on,” Jayce mumbles. Almost a little— excited? Surely he was reading the tone incorrectly.
Viktor registers the word work as the bed shifts once again, “what? Work? At this tim—oh!” Rough hands pull him to the edge of the bed where Jayce kneels on the ground. The Alpha had adjusted Viktor’s body so that Jayce’s face was directly in front of the Omega’s sex. The tongue coaxing the entrance open, hands coming to grasp Viktor’s cheeks, holding them apart so he could better access the sensitive clit he seemed to quickly become mercilessly fixated on.
Coming to life immediately, Viktor begins to crawl away. “Wai-wait, so crude. Wha—mmm,” he has to shut up because whatever Jayce is doing feels good, great even, and the Alpha won’t let him crawl away. Viktor grasps a nearby pillow, brings it to his mouth so he doesn’t make any noises. Not wanting Jayce to hear the results of his ministrations.
The air shifts now, heavy with vanilla that is no longer sour, but sweet and heady. Fire so intense it has the Omega within reacting. His body, his core, were starting to heat up. An odd sensation building there as slick begins to pour out of him.
The moment it does, Jayce laps it all up with his tongue. Hands gripping his ass tighter, a growl escaping Jayce’s lips. He continues, relentless. Viktor briefly starts to wonder if it’s for Viktor or for Jayce himself that he’s doing it for. Regardless, he rocks his hips back to get more of that sweet heat. Swears he’s doing it to make the process run smoother. Not because Viktor actually wanted it.
The feeling inside builds up to a crescendo. Like a wave crashing onto shore, his orgasm washes over him and holy Janna above, does it feel different from anything he’s ever experienced before. Eyes rolling so far back as his hips rock onto that tongue, he almost forgets this was supposed to be for duty and not for pleasure. He’s panting, hard, body languid. Melting into the cool sheets below.
Still, he doesn’t want to drop the hard facade.
“Just get it over with, you beast,” he grumbles once he gets a hold of his bearings. And Jayce doesn’t like that because he is growling again, loud. The grip leaves his ass, and before he knows it, the fat head of his cock is pressing into his entrance. Jayce’s hand settles on the small of Viktor’s back to get some leverage as he pushes in.
Viktor yelps.
Maybe he should’ve waited until his body wasn’t so sensitive so he could properly adjust to the Alpha’s girth. This was nothing like his sexual devices back home. He dares to look back at Jayce and his breath hitches at the sight.
Jayce has this look on his face—furrowed brows in concentration, lips forming a small ‘o’ as he continues to press that angry, red cock into Viktor’s sensitive entrance. Almost like a fog had settled over his mind and the only way to clear it was by fucking the Omega in front of him.
Glancing at the hard appendage, though, Viktor starts to panic. It won’t fit. It just won’t. It’s too big. It doesn’t matter if Viktor’s body was made for this—there’s just no way.
He tries to crawl away again but Jayce brings him back by the waist. “Don’t run away,” he reprimands, and then he’s pushing further in. His tight sex clenching and unclenching around the Alpha unwillingly. “Just like that. Fuck, you’re tight. Are you sure you’re not a virgin?”
The fact that he sounds so fucked out shouldn’t turn Viktor on. The fullness in his virgin cunt shouldn’t turn him on so much either. But it does. The slick coming out with such ease, trickling down his exposed thighs. The Alpha pheromones are turning him into a mess—heavy breathing, chest heaving, legs quivering as Jayce’s hips pull back then forward again in small, almost delicate motions. Entering him little by little. Giving him time to adjust.
Viktor shakes his head. He could tell him the truth right then and there, but then why would he give him that satisfaction?
Instead, he musters as much harshness and derision into his voice as he says, “You wish this body remained untouched by an-ah-by an Alpha other than you.”
Viktor’s body was relaxing, his hole no longer trying to keep Jayce out and then—and then Jayce is slamming forward with so much force it rattles the bed and his bones.
Fuck.
It hurts.
This was retaliation for Viktor’s impulsive comments. The air becomes heavy with the smell of copper, metallic almost. But Jayce doesn’t seem to care. Thrusting in and out until Viktor swears he’s being split open.
Jayce did it. He took Viktor’s virginity.
Tears are threatening to spill out at the spikes of pain radiating from his core and spreading into his spine, so he bites the pillow harder, refusing to let Jayce win. This was horrible. There was nothing pleasurable about this. The pain was making him lightheaded. How could people like—oh.
Oh.
Wow.
The Alpha starts hitting a spot inside him just right and instead of pain, he starts feeling little bouts of pleasure override the unpleasant sensation. Large hands grip the circumference of his waist, almost like his body was molded to fit into Ja—
Where did that thought come from?
He shakes his head again, grips the sheets below tight, and begins to meet the Alpha’s incessant pace. A particular slam from Jayce and a flick of his hips backwards has him seeing stars. It’s like his body knows what it’s supposed to be doing as instincts take over.
And so he bites the pillow harder, still refusing to let Jayce know just how much he’s liking it.
If he knew it would feel this good he would’ve been doing this long before. The Alpha is fucking him so well. The hold on his small waist is bruising. The way he was punishing his cervix maddening. Not even his devices could make the fire that was building up again in his core this fierce.
Jayce rolls his hips slowly then. Almost as if to actually punish Viktor now. He’s about to complain, to ask him why he stopped when he was so close, to not be so selfish, before he is pulling out and Viktor’s body is being manhandled. Jayce flips him over, lifts him with an ease that has him getting impossibly wet again. His core throbbing at the motion.
Viktor wraps his legs around the Alpha’s waist, refusing to look at him and fixating his gaze on the bare chest in front of him, littered with hair all over that is matting with the sweat building up all over his now glistening body. Truly a beast. Jayce doesn’t say anything, holds him by his ass with one hand, lines his entrance with the other, grasps his other cheek once inside, and begins to fuck him like that. Working Viktor up and down his hard dick as if he weighed nothing.
The hard lines of his arms moving, constricting, cording in a way that screams power. The beads of sweat building on the Alpha’s tanned skin making something primal within Viktor awaken. The sounds coming from the room anything but innocent. Skin meeting skin, exerted breaths from both males coming out hot and pleasured. Jayce is truly carving a space inside the tight crevice of Viktor’s cunt, made to fit only the Alpha’s hard cock.
And he hates that he’s having that thought. He hates it so fucking much.
That thought shouldn’t make his chest constrict with an unknown emotion, but it does. Nor should it make him fall over the edge the way it does, but it happens. And when it does, he can’t hide the roll of his eyes and the way his body is wrapping like a vice around Jayce’s warm hardness that keeps pumping inside of him. Or the way his nails rake down the Alpha’s back as he clings onto him, almost, almost whimpering, and almost missing the deep moan that escapes Jayce.
Why was it taking so long?
It was supposed to be quick.
Viktor’s hands grip the long strands of Jayce’s hair and he pulls instead of wondering. Because he, too, wants some semblance of control of the situation. Jayce had been taking lead, this was the least he could do. He brings his own lips over Jayce’s and swallows the Alpha’s heavy breaths. Nothing about it is innocent nor tied to such a silly thing as affection.
No.
This is pure carnal desire.
His knee was on fire but somehow the Omega endured.
“Fuck,” Jayce grunts, breathing heavier now as Viktor threatened to deprive him of all his oxygen. “No kissing,” he warns. Viktor pulls harder at the dark strands in return, angry at there being not even a small form of actual connection, and biting the Alpha’s lower lip.
Hard.
And so Jayce falters, smacks Viktor’s ass just as hard to get him to gasp and off his mouth. Jayce completely stops and Viktor huffs.
“Fucking brat,” Jayce whispers, then crawls onto the bed with Viktor hanging on to him, still connected. The insult making Viktor blush madly all over because why did he like that?
No one had put him in his place before.
Viktor is settled down in the middle of the bed, and Jayce leans back on his heels, the tip barely connecting them, but then he’s thrusting into Viktor again. Jayce grips his hips tighter than he needed to. The silk sheets rumpling up with their shared sweat. Petals clinging to Viktor’s sweat slicked back and hair.
The Omega gasps but refuses to moan. Choosing instead to goad the man, “if I-if I didn’t know any, ah, better, I’d say you’re enjoying this.”
Jayce doesn’t answer, just keeps entering him repeatedly. A rough thumb finds his neglected clit and Viktor has to bite his hand to keep from moaning.
Wrong move.
Jayce removes his thumb, moves his large hand from Viktor’s hips and pussy, to Viktor’s hands and in one swift motion, the Alpha pins them above his head, looming over him now with their hands linked above. It is then, at Jayce’s proximity, that Viktor finally dares to glance at the Alpha’s face.
And gods, why did he do that?
His heart skips a beat at the way the Alpha’s pupils are dilated, looking at Viktor with the intensity of a thousand suns as he grunts, “Mine.” Possessive. Needy and wanting, their eyes locking as Jayce keeps fucking, rocking, rolling into him with a pace that Viktor didn’t know was possible. A crazed addict getting his fix. It makes Viktor exhale breaths of pleasure that ghost over Jayce’s face. He exposes his neck because his fucked out mind still knew what tonight was for. He was expected to submit. “All fucking mine.”
Jayce greedily takes what is now his. Buries his face into the crook of Viktor’s neck and bites the sensitive gland. The fangs breaking the sensitive barrier of his skin makes Viktor crash again, pussy clinging greedily onto Jayce’s growing knot as wave after wave of forced pleasure courses through his tired body. The Alpha’s movements become more erratic, pumps slowing down. Viktor begins to feel impossibly full. The Alpha stops moving and Viktor notices, for the first time, that he had been knotted and filled to the brim with cum and dick.
Jayce’s scent and breathing is still strong, a burning fire in the cool silence that ensues. Viktor doesn’t know what possesses him to do it, but a mean streak runs through him. Jayce is panting, tongue lapping at Viktor’s new mark, when Viktor repeats the same on the Alpha’s exposed neck. It startled Jayce eerily still and elicited a heavy moan from the rugged man. The taste of blood in Viktor’s mouth is strong, but his instincts take over and he begins to lap at the sensitive mark to help seal it with his saliva’s healing components.
No way he was going to be stuck with a mating brand while Jayce walked all over Piltover as if he were a free man. They were both caged. They would both feel the heaviness of their new alliance weighed down by duty. The title wasn’t just for Viktor to carry.
Jayce is quiet, rolls them over so that Viktor is on top, laying his head below his hairy chin. Viktor is tired, full of cum and cock, and his instincts couldn’t be happier.
But Viktor himself isn’t.
He notices how his scent has began to shift already. A slow realization, sweet vanilla reminiscent of marshmallows being roasted over a campfire. The scent should bring him happiness, leave him elated.
It doesn’t.
Jayce’s hands are twitching by his side, not bothering to run them through Viktor’s body or hair.
No gentle caresses.
No aftercare.
Just plain fucking.
Devoid of any emotions. He wanted to cry. His eyes stinging as Jayce’s breathing evens out to a gentle rise and fall of his chest. This is not how he imagined his first time would go.
It was silly—but he was expecting gentle, tender care. Even this would’ve been okay—holy shit, more than okay—if Jayce showed even an ounce of affection.
But he didn’t.
Nor did he want to do the most basic form of affection between a mated couple: kissing.
And so Viktor was aching again.
A few minutes pass before Jayce can move. He tries hard not to touch the Omega—just pulls out. Viktor immediately moves to the side, curls up into a fetal position and holds himself, his back to Jayce.
Naked.
Bare.
Aching all over on the outside and even more so on the inside.
Tears are threatening to spill out but he doesn’t let them. He wouldn’t show weakness.
Inane thinking—he wishes Jayce would at least ask him if he’s okay. Sure that he noticed the blood.
Instead, the Alpha moves off the bed, slips on a robe and walks out of the bedroom. The loud creaks of the wooden frame making him wince as cum begins to spill out of him.
That’s all he was now—a hole for Jayce to spill himself into. When the Alpha doesn’t come back, he curls further into himself. With his long locks of hair covering his eyes, he begins to cry.
Alone.
Desolate.
Guttural sobs wrack his body with the grief he had been holding onto for the past few weeks. He had saved himself—his virginity, the one thing he valued the most and held dear to his heart—for an Alpha that didn’t give two fucks about him.
Fate was cruel.
Tear after tear spilled out of him. Each one heavier than the last.
For all the pleasure in the world didn’t fill the empty, hollow feeling he was left with. His body had been filled to the brim, but his soul wasn’t. A small, minute part of him had hoped for a connection deeper than all this political crap that had been forced upon them.
But there wasn’t anything. The shattered illusion is on the metaphorical ground of his mind. Jayce’s touch had faded. Viktor’s skin still warm but his heart growing colder in the silence of the bedroom. It was imbecilic of him to hope for intimacy.
The pregnant moon kept shining through the large floor to ceiling windows of the balcony, illuminating his newly desecrated body in lovely hues of blue. His tears had ran dry and so had the liquid that had been steadily pouring out of him.
All he could do was lay there.
Jayce unknowingly took what was most precious to him. Viktor tried not to have ill feelings about it. Yet, as sleep properly overtook him for the first time in days, he felt emptier than he had prior to finding out he was to wed a complete stranger.
ʚஐɞ
Viktor awakens to find himself wrapped in blankets he had not fallen asleep in. The petals had been taken off the bed, discarded Janna knows where. The morning’s dawn filtered through the satin curtains, birds beginning to chirp as the world came alive outside. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he stretches only to have his whole body cramp up.
Sore.
Viktor’s body hummed with the previous night’s activities. Activities that painfully curled in his stomach and spread like wildfire into his chest. Wincing, he lifts the covers up only to notice the silk pajama bottoms he was wearing. Much too big for him, but they were still there. Upon further inspection, he notices that there was—thankfully—no flakes of dry semen on his legs whatsoever.
The next thing he notices is the Alpha missing from their bed.
Bastard probably had his servants come and clean him up. That thought shouldn’t unsettle him, but it does. Was he that loathed by the Alpha that he didn’t even want to touch him unless absolutely necessary?
Vaguely, his mind recalls the way Jayce had moaned when Viktor bit him.
Maybe he wasn’t as unaffected as he thought. There had to be some form of attraction for him to get… aroused the way he had, right?
With an indignant huff, he begins rubbing out the painful knots that had formed all over his bad leg.
What did Viktor care, anyway? Better this way.
He looks around for his cane, but it is nowhere to be found. Getting around the estate would be hard without it. His body reminded him of his morning routine, the urge for basic bodily functions intense.
Glancing at the open door that led to the master bathroom, he swallows. Intimidated by it. It was close but as he continued to stare at it, taunting him, his perspective becomes warped and it grows further away from him.
Gods, he felt so useless without his cane at that moment. Not for the first time in his life, he is reminded of what he wants to do only to be limited to what he can do. That piece of wood was so essential for him to be able to function as a normal human being.
Goodness, why are there tears welling up in his eyes again? He angrily wipes at them, decides to get off the bed. Braces himself, wills his body to cooperate. Places a firm foot down, then the bad one comes next.
Everything is okay.
It’s all good.
So he stands.
Like a lightning bolt, the pain flares up his leg, sharp and sudden. He hisses and down to the ground he goes with a heavy thud.
“Fuck!” He curses, swallows as he stares up at the bedroom ceiling. The ivory white color blurring as the hot tears come again.
He missed home.
Missed Powder, who would always be at his elbow worried sick whenever he’d have flare ups like this.
Missed not feeling caged—useless, tired, angry. Even his own body was betraying him, refusing to obey. Everything in him screaming to stay down.
That was his new place anyway.
At Jayce’s feet, like a fucking pet.
He settles an arm over his eyes, sniffling. Trying to will the tears away. Not to mention he still needed to use the restroom.
A few moments pass as he tries to even his breathing out.
The door creaks open. There’s shuffling footsteps, then that deep voice comes.
Of course.
Of course it’ll be him.
This was his bedroom after all.
“Viktor?” He asks into the seemingly empty bedroom. Viktor quickly wipes the tears away, attempting to conceal the weakness of his mind since he couldn’t conceal the weakness of his body. Him being on the ground was a clear sign of it.
“Viktor!” Jayce sounds more alarmed, almost concerned, spotting him on the carpeted ground next to the bed. “Did you fall?”
“Eh, nah. I just like the view from down here,” Viktor responds with a sardonic tone and roll of his eyes.
Jayce’s face comes into view from above him, eyebrows furrowed in obvious discontent. “Are you always this much of a brat?”
“Only to Piltover’s finest,” he shrugs, then winces when that small movement pulls at the sore muscles on the expanse of his back. “But I do enjoy the view from here. It allows for some clear thinking.”
“Get up then,” Jayce says, a quiet challenge in his voice. As if it wasn’t his security detail that took away the cane he so heavily needed to rely on today.
Viktor’s jaw clenched shut so hard, he wonders if a few teeth will break from the force of it. Stubbornly, he averts his eyes, rolls onto his good side, and attempts to get up.
Only to have his leg flare up from the small amount of weight he attempted to put on it.
Not in front of him.
Not in front of him.
Not. In. Front. Of. Him.
Janna damn it all.
Jayce exhales, frustrated, and leans down to wrap an arm around Viktor’s waist to help him up regardless of Viktor’s protests.
“Unhand me,” he snaps, beating his fist onto the bare chest of the Alpha who’s only wearing a deep green silk robe.
“Where is your cane?” Jayce grunts out, ignoring the weak hit.
“Your goons took it.”
That has Jayce pausing. He stares at Viktor’s face, searching. Slowly, realization dawns on his face. Like a light bulb had turned on in that dark head of his.
Jayce closes his eyes, tilts his head to the side in what seems like regret, “shit. Sorry, Vik. I-I didn’t know.”
“It got the job done, didn’t it? Presentation is everything to you, no?” The bitterness that crept into his tongue should’ve been tamed. Viktor couldn’t find the will to care, though.
“It really isn’t,” Jayce whispers. And his facial expression changes, softer and more gentle somehow as Viktor stares up at him. Jayce pulls Viktor closer, almost wistful in the way he holds him. Viktor hates how he has to tilt his head up to take a good look at the man. At the way those green eyes begin to heat up at their closeness. Jayce stirs between them, the hardness pressing into his belly unmistakable. Viktor would be lying if he said he didn’t feel the current.
The Alpha’s free hand tucks a loose strand of hair behind the Omega’s ear and Viktor shies away from it. Not wanting to take in how the dark green of his robe only serves to bring out the flecks of green in his impossibly hazel eyes that made something within Viktor stir. Tries to put some distance at the thing poking him by pushing Jayce away.
And just like that, whatever was happening between Jayce and Viktor ebbs away. Replaced with the same rough man from last night.
“I’ll get them to bring back your cane. A servant will come by to help you with whatever you need in the meantime.”
Viktor glances towards the restroom, still needing to relieve himself, but Jayce was the last person he’d ask for help, so he decided that holding it in and possibly catching a UTI was for the best.
Jayce tsks, noticing where Viktor’s gaze was fixated on, “you’re one stubborn Omega.”
“And you’re not the gentleman your lover made you out to be,” Viktor snaps. Not needing to say a name to make it known who he was talking about.
Jayce’s breath hitches and immediately he gets angry. His derisive tone harsh to his ears, “I expect you in my bed every night to help me warm it. That is your only purpose. To do as I say. Your commentary is unneeded.”
“As if that wasn’t made clear last night,” Viktor responds, equally spiteful.
Jayce’s firm hold on him falters, eyes shining, shaking with something he couldn’t placate. The bond seems to shake between the Alpha and the Omega. It was so fresh yet so precarious.
Jayce lets go of him as if he had been suddenly burned. Viktor instantly falters back to the bed and watches as Jayce runs a hand over his bearded face.
“You think I wanted you?! That I wanted this?!” He screams, impatiently pacing the space in front of Viktor, “I could’ve had anybody. A. ny. Bo. dy.” He punctuates each syllable with a punch of his fist to his open palm.
Viktor swallows, anxiety curling like a sharp blade in his stomach. “Yet here you are,” he says, trying to keep the shakiness from his voice.
Jayce exhales. Stops his pacing. Eyes wild with unkempt anger. He’s expecting for Jayce to strike him with his hand. Cringes away when a large hand begins to lift.
He’s expecting it. It’s coming.
He closes his eyes, bracing for the impact.
And then…
Nothing.
Carefully, he opens his eyes to see that the male was now directly in front of him. Staring at Viktor as one would a wounded animal. As if—as if he actually cared.
That look shouldn’t feel as soft as cotton on his skin.
The anger they both felt seems to melt into something more tame. More tender.
Jayce’s lingering hand instead tangles into Viktor’s hair, a breath of relief escaping the Alpha’s lips at the contact. Viktor stares up at him through his lashes, carefully assessing him.
”Vik, I’m sorry. I don’t—I don’t want to frighten you. That is the last thing I want,” he tenderly says. So he is capable of being gentle.
The hand in Viktor’s hair is large enough to press a thumb over Viktor’s soft lips, spreading them open. Jayce sighs again, closing his eyes as if debating what to do next. Viktor is expecting Jayce to claim him again, could feel it in the way the Alpha’s body was humming with quiet arousal.
That only serves to set alarm bells off in his head, not ready for a repeat of last night.
Instead, though, the Alpha’s hand retreats and he quickly scatters out of the room. Viktor lets out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, suddenly very cold.
ʚஐɞ
The servant did come to help him eventually. Viktor tried not to think too much on it but there was a doubt in his mind that he needed cleared.
”Ms. Young, was it?” He asks to the freckled face Beta woman once he was settled inside the warm bath she had run for him. Thankfully, because without her help he wouldn’t have been able to do it on his own.
She nods, “yes, at your service. Please call me Sky.”
”Can I ask you something, Sky?” Viktor asks.
“I believe you just did, sir,” she giggles. And Viktor likes that. A small genuine smile spreads over his lips.
“Last night, was it you that assisted Mr. Talis with, eh, the clean up of the bed?” His cheeks were suddenly burning at the thought of the woman touching him so intimately. Not wanting to specify exactly what the clean up of the bed entailed. Nonetheless, he had to know.
“Ah, no. That was all Mr. Talis, sir. He insisted on taking care of you,” a fond smile forms on Sky’s face. Why did that make Viktor’s heart beat like that? “I did come to run you a bath at his request but you had fallen asleep.” She wipes her hands on her apron. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go move your personal items from the west wing. I’ll be right back, sir.”
With that, she retreats from the restroom. Her small frame disappearing beyond the doorway. That was—that was a lot to process. In a way, Jayce seemed to care to some extent what happened to Viktor.
Probably because if something did happen to him, the whole of the treaty would be brought into question. That had to be it. The man didn’t even want to touch him properly after intercourse.
His long fingers run along the fresh mark on his neck, tender and aching as he gently presses on it. A cruel reminder of the current state of his life and the hollow feeling inside.
No.
Jayce Talis did not care one bit about Viktor. All he cared about was keeping up appearances. Viktor needed to stop thinking that there might be a possibility for a happy ending for the both of them. There was only duty to uphold and absolutely nothing else.
Notes:
Thanks for the love, guys! ♥️
I had to get this out :’) It was digging a hole in my mind.My poor shaylaaaaaa.
Chapter 3: Romantic Homicide
Summary:
A conversation overheard.
A dinner planned.
An empty night.
Chapter Text
The next few weeks at the Talis Estate had been tense, to say the least. The bruises—an eerie reminder that he no longer belonged to himself—had long faded out. His knee, after some much needed bed rest, was much better.
After that night, Jayce hadn’t made any attempts to close the growing chasm between them. Instead, his silence only magnified tenfold.
Viktor would walk into a room, Jayce would get this scowl on his face. As if his presence was bothersome.
Viktor spent most of his time in the Talis library. Making a little nook for himself by a bay window in the wall towards the back. Where he could bathe in the warm glow of the sun’s rays. Ximena had helped him with some cushions to make it more comfortable for the younger Omega.
She tried not to pry too much into their marriage, but every now and then she’d make a comment that would set Viktor off and make him reminisce on a future that just—that just would never be.
ʚஐɞ
It had been a couple weeks into his new life when he had decided to explore more of the garden outside. It was late on a Friday afternoon. The sun was hanging high in the sky, casting a warm light onto the beautiful landscape.
Jayce was nowhere to be found that day. Not that the Alpha usually told him where he’d be, but at least Viktor would get an idea of his whereabouts from either Sky or Ximena.
He made his way out the back door near the kitchen, and down the marble path he had walked to be… wedded. It seemed so long ago now, when in reality it had just been a few weeks. Not even a month.
Viktor sighs, not wanting to think about it. He sees the maze near the garden table where Jayce, Ximena, and himself usually had breakfast on every Sunday. Near a weeping willow tree that offered shade from the scorching sun on days where the temperatures were high. The entrance just a few steps beyond it.
The garden maze was modest in size, actually. It’d probably take him maybe thirty minutes or so to fully explore it. Today his knee wasn’t hurting. Jayce had kept his distance in the physical aspect of things. Normally, the Alpha would sleep in the guest bedroom next to theirs. Except on nights where he’d be a little, uh, needy for touch. Those nights Viktor would feign sleep and pretend not to notice the way a large hand would settle on his waist to check if he was awake.
The thought of it, currently, sends a shiver down his spine.
They would do it again. An heir had to be produced, after all.
As he walked down the narrow gravel paths with tall hedge walls that had been meticulously trimmed, he couldn’t help but think that next time something happened, it would be on his terms.
As it should be.
He knew how to manipulate. After all, he was Silco’s son. Unfortunately, however, he had inherited Vander’s caring and protective nature, which meant that most often than not he chose to see the good in people.
His free hand comes up to trail along the green walls. Walking along the deliberate curves of the maze that led him further in. Sunlight filtered through the leaves in scattered patterns, casting shadows on the ground—pristine and shifting with the light summer wind.
He plucks a rose from a wall with different types of flowers, wondering briefly if this is where they had gotten the petals for his wedding night from.
He was nearing the center of the maze, he could feel it.
The breeze carried with it soft murmurs. His ears begin to pick up a conversation that he really did not need to be listening to.
“—doesn’t affect you. Like it’s so easy to just… shut it off.”
Viktor takes in a breath. That’s Jayce. Sounding a little irked.
“It is not about easy, Jayce. It is about necessities. About doing the right thing.”
Mel. Her voice always carrying with conviction.
It seems that he had walked in on a lover’s quarrel?
Huh.
Viktor didn’t put infidelity past Jayce.
It doesn’t surprise him. It was probably why he had been sleeping in the guest bedroom.
Not that he was complaining. It just—it just made a strange feeling settle in his chest.
“Always so logical. As if there was a flip I could switch to stop feeling things.”
“Feeling doesn’t change reality,” Mel responds. Her voice much more calm, stoic, collected.
Jayce’s more erratic, impatient, vexed.
“No, but pretending not to feel anything?”
“Then give voice to your conflicting thoughts, Jayce. It shouldn’t be such an arduous task.”
There’s a long pause. Viktor becomes keenly aware of his own beating heart, fast and furious in his ribcage. The adrenaline of possibly getting caught eavesdropping coursing through his veins.
“If things were different…” he trails off.
“But they’re not. We both know that wishing doesn’t change anything, Jayce. Let us be realistic. This is for the best,” she says. Her tone sounding a little more affected now.
Viktor doesn’t need to hear anything else. He walks away, dropping the rose on the ground. He wants to act indifferent, but a part of him cares. From the tone of their conversation, it seems they were talking about Jayce’s and Mel’s relationship. They had to have been.
Viktor concluded that they wanted each other in all the ways they weren’t allowed to—because of him.
For the rest of the day and that week, he attempts to ignore how that makes him crumble even more.
ʚஐɞ
On a particular Sunday a few weeks later, when they were all having brunch together out in the garden, Ximena had been steadily eyeing her son and stabbing the eggs on her plate a little too hard. The shrilling sound it made on the ceramic slicing through Viktor’s ears and sending a jolt of discomfort down his spine.
“How is everything between the both of you?” She asks, careful. Analytical.
Viktor smiles, grabs Jayce’s hand and beams his most convincing smile towards the Alpha, which is almost nonexistent. “It’s great, Mrs. Talis. Jayce is such a gentleman. Truly as Councilor Medarda said.”
Jayce chews on his food slowly, adjusting his warm grip so that he was properly holding Viktor’s hand. A little too tight at the mention of Mel, but rubbing soothing motions on it with his thumb. Swallows the food in his mouth. “I couldn’t have asked for a better partner.”
The smile that spreads on his lips fake. The same one Jayce gives the masses. Viktor tries hard not to wince at it, knowing full well that he was starting to develop one of his own. The warm hand in his foreign, but Ximena didn’t need to know that.
Ximena exhales, settling her fork down on her plate. “I know that this is a heavy burden for you both to carry,” she starts. “I am here. You can come to me.” Her motherly tone making Viktor’s tight smile falter. He glances at Jayce, briefly, then back at her as Viktor drops the hold to grab the fork. Moving the food around on his plate, looking at the sustenance as if it had all the answers in the world.
“We are doing great, ma. So well, actually, that we were thinking of throwing a little soirée in honor of our three months together,” Jayce says, smooth and convincing. “Right, V?”
V.
What an odd nickname.
Jayce never told him about said plan, but Viktor decides to play along with it.
“Right,” Viktor responds, shoulders tense.
“Oh, honey, that’s great to hear!” Ximena smiles but it is almost threatening in nature. Her words shocking Viktor, “But please save that facade of yours for someone other than your mother and mate”
Viktor swallows. Jayce stiffens beside him. Their eyes meet for a brief second. The air thick with the uncomfortable silence that ensued.
Ximena continues, “the delicacy of your situation is not lost on me. Old as I am, I still have twenty-twenty vision.”
Viktor exhales, a small dry laugh escapes him. Almost silent, but the first one in months.
“Adjusting to this new life has been rather… strenuous,” he admits. “We have some kinks to tinker out.”
“Oh honey. I am not trying to meddle. Truly. Jayce is my son, but you are just as mine as he is,” she says, reaching across the table to gently tap his hand. A show of affection. “Besides, I know just how hot headed he can be.”
That makes Viktor genuinely smile. The way she spoke as if Jayce wasn’t right there had a warm feeling settling over him. He felt… cared for. Protected in a way. It was an odd sensation, really, to have that from someone other than his family.
Jayce tries to hide his emotions, face unreadable as he pushes his plate away. “I am right here, mother.”
“Then start acting like it,” she tsks. “You spend so much time with Councilor Medarda, son. How do you think that looks?”
Oh.
Alright.
So Viktor wasn’t the only one that noticed.
The awkward, thick silence could be cut with a knife.
“They are just close friends,” Viktor lies, to clear the heavy air that had settled over them.
Ximena’s knowing gaze darts between the mated pair, lips sealing tight. Still not convinced, but putting it to rest for now.
“I have instructed the staff to prepare an intimate dinner on the terrace for you two tonight,” she casually says, changing the subject.
“Oh, Mrs. Tal—“
“—Ximena would work better. Even mom if you so wished. Please,” she interjects. “It’s a full moon and the view from there is breathtaking!”
Viktor continues, “Ximena, I do not find that a necessity—”
“—I wouldn’t mind,” Jayce says at the same time.
That takes Viktor by surprise. He quickly tries to mask it so Ximena doesn’t notice.
“Then it’s settled,” Ximena beams. “I’ll be out with Cassandra tonight,” she winks and Jayce groans.
“Please don’t do that with your eye, ma. It looks wrong,” he says it fondly. “And stop meddling. You can be insufferable.”
“Is that any way to speak to your mother?”
“When she meddles? Yes! Even when you say you aren’t.”
“Viktor certainly doesn’t seem to mind,” the smile on her face is oh so soft and tender that Viktor finds himself reflecting it right back.
It truly felt like it had been a long time since he had genuinely smiled.
The air had shifted. More relaxed, less tense. Like a coiled spring slowly unwinding.
Which is how he found himself later on that night getting dressed. Putting in some effort. He had been cooped up in the estate for the past couple months. Jayce hadn’t really bothered to show him around the city.
Sky had been the only person whom he had grown close to. There was a softness to her that he quickly became accustomed to.
He glances at his reflection in the vanity mirror of the bathroom. Nothing too fancy, neither too casual. Black dress pants and long sleeved button down. His hair up in a low bun with a few strands down to frame the sharp structure of his face.
Viktor kept telling himself that he was doing this to feel good about himself. Certainly not because he wanted to look good for.. for Jayce.
Either way, he starts making his way up to the terrace. A little past the time Ximena had told them that dinner would be ready. Viktor still had his doubts. A dinner and a conversation didn’t sound too bad. His heart had began craving intimacy and his instinctual part touch starved after getting a taste. His mind, however, kept telling him this was a bad idea. A nagging feeling that kept him at bay.
A few minutes later he finds himself at the terrace. Momentarily meant for closeness. Romance. He had to give props to Ximena later. Everything was perfect. From the vines wrapped on the railing with splashes of colorful flowers decorating it, to the small round table with two chairs at either side, all decorated with a white cloth. The wax candle in the small glass holder flickering in between two tall wine glasses with a bottle of the liquid in a wine stand next to the table.
Viktor takes in a deep breath. The lights outside had also been dimmed down.
Intimate. Snug.
The stars and the moon above that hung prettily in the velvet blue of the sky would be their only witness for the night.
It shouldn’t—it shouldn’t make his heart swell with hope and his stomach do airy flips.
Yet, it does.
The only thing missing is the Alpha that smells of fire and faint vanilla. Maybe this could be a new beginning for them. Maybe he could get to know Jayce better, understand how his mind works.
Maybe.
So he sits.
And so he waits.
And waits.
And waits.
His only tell of time passing is the melting candle in front of him.
He tries not to worry. Jayce had gone to the forge earlier. Ximena had said he’d be back in time before she left to the Kiramman Estate. His fingers kept toying with the thick black napkin on his lap while Jayce’s remained crisply folded across from him. A reminder of how late he is.
Attempts to keep his eyes from lingering back to the empty seat in front of him.
Attempts to keep his back straight and dignity in tact as he slowly begins to deflate.
The sliding glass doors to the terrace open. Viktor’s head flicks to the side a little too quick, almost expecting it to be the rugged man, but instead it is a freckled face with curly hair that greets him. A sad, sympathetic smile on her lips.
Viktor exhales, something between a sigh and a laugh. Resigned. “Is my husband home?”
Sky shakes her head, “he has been out all evening, sir. Would you like me to serve you dinner?”
“He’ll come. Just… just give him some time,” he foolishly says. Trying to save face. Ignoring the way his stomach was curling in on itself with disappointment.
Sky nods and retreats back into the house.
The candle was nearing its end, its flickers a dying ember in the dark of the night. The smithereens of his heart were suddenly aching at the realization that Jayce was not coming.
His fingers curl around the neck of the wine bottle he had popped open long ago, before Sky had even walked in.
And he drinks.
To forget.
To alleviate the raw pain palpitating inside.
Gods, he wanted to go home.
To his father, Vander.
To his father, Silco.
To his sisters, Jinx and Vi.
The stars are twinkling a little too bright for him tonight. The moon becomes a blurry splotch in the sky as tears well up in his eyes. Blood rushing to his head as the raw negativity begins to seep into his chest.
Angry.
Furious.
He sits there. Alone. At a table that was meant for two, feeling every bit the fool he was. The chair across from him might as well be screaming with the way it is reminding him of his naive heart. He stopped glancing at the door long ago. There was no point. His expectations had been worn out, slowly and painfully, into resentment.
What would his father Silco think of him if he saw him like this? Like the pining fool he was?
So he stands.
Anger bubbles over from the resignation in his heart. He yanks the table cloth, knocks over the chairs. The sound of glass shattering loud in the silence of the night. The candle quickly dying as it hits the ground.
Cruel. Cruel. Cruel.
Jayce was one cruel bastard.
He undoes his hair, angrily wipes at the tears that had begun spilling. Unhooks the first few buttons of his shirt, feeling suffocated even though he was surrounded by fresh air.
Wine bottle in one hand, cane in the other.
And walks down the wooden stairs that led to the garden below.
Into the maze.
Into the possibility of getting lost to never be found.
Into his continuously sinking heart.
Fine.
Fine.
Fine.
If this is how Jayce wanted things to be, so be it.
Notes:
Unavailable was my first go at fics since I was a teen y’all. It’s bad tbh but I’m glad I did it 💀💀
Flawed and Bare my second. Getting a hang of translating emotions, describing places. I will finish F&B… it’s just that I’m at a stand still rn 🤣🤣
This one I feel like has been flowing more easy than the rest and your comments are just so overwhelming. Thank you, truly. Anyway, Viktor will suffer…
Wait.. I mean Jayce 👀👀👀
Chapter 4: Too Little Too Late
Summary:
A heat approaching.
A weak apology.
Chapter Text
The way Viktor had been avoiding Jayce for the past month had been obvious to everyone. The disconcerting look on his face had exponentially grown whenever Jayce would come around his space. After that night, Viktor had gone back to sleep in the east wing. Sky moved his belongings at Viktor’s behest the very same night Jayce had stood him up. Not that there was much to move around, really.
Of course Jayce had gone to look for him. Had begged him to give him some time and let him explain himself. Viktor was not going to be a jester made to entertain Jayce’s whims. Viktor didn’t care if their mating bond was shaking with need. They needed to rekindle their connection, Viktor knew this, but his ability to not give a damn was on full force.
Currently, he was getting ready to go into the bathhouse and have himself a much needed rose milk bath. Petals provided by the endless rose bushes that surrounded the maze outside—a lovely surprise he came across that drunken night where he wondered it until he came out the other end.
“Sir,” Sky’s voice comes from behind him.
“Sky, call me Viktor. Please,” he says, turning to correct her for the umpteenth time.
She bashfully smiles, “your bath is ready, sir.”
Viktor rolls his eyes affectionately. “One of these days you’ll have to call me by my Janna given name.”
“When that day comes, there will be pups running around the estate and I’ll be too tired chasing them around with you to remember to call you ‘sir’ or ‘Mr. Talis’,” Sky giggles. Viktor tries not to wince at that. The cold reminder that he is still without an heir curling into his stomach with a sharp twinge. It was a beautiful picture she painted, though.
“Right!” He responds instead. Not that Sky didn’t know the strenuous relationship they had, but it was something hard to talk about. Then, to change the subject, “please remember our date tomorrow.”
Sky nods, “yes, sir. Mr. Talis also requested your presence for dinner tomorrow. He’ll be pleased to find that it was you who prepared the meal.”
They were supposed to go into the market tomorrow to gather some ingredients for one of his favorite dishes from back home. His idea had not been to cook for Jayce at all, but he wasn’t going to correct the woman. It was the first time he’d be out, after all.
He had also been avoiding supper with Jayce and Ximena. Not being ready to face the duo. Ximena knew Viktor had moved back to his old room. She had been kind enough to give him space, let him sift through his feelings until he was ready to speak to her.
“Ah, yes. Of course. Let Mr. Talis know I’ll be there, please.”
Sky just smiles and opens the double doors for him to enter the bathhouse. Instantly, the sweet aroma of roses entwined with the steam wafts out.
Viktor had never been one to indulge in things such as these before—luxuries not so easily afforded in the undercity. But after that rough night with the Alpha and the many stressful days that ensued, he found himself coming here almost every night before bed.
To get away from reality.
He steps past Sky and walks down the narrow hallway, dimly lit by gas lanterns mounted on slender gold columns. The corridor leads to a trio of raised pools, though only one has been prepared for tonight. Candles and incense trace the perimeter of the central pool—his destination. He slips out of the silk robe clinging to his frame, hangs it on a hook fixed to the red wall, and rests his cane beside the marble steps leading into the water. At the far end of the pool, a small pillow awaits, topped with a weighted eye mask.
The steam that was coming out of the water was alluring with the promise of relaxation. Placing a hand next to one of the columns by the steps, he starts making his way in. Once fully settled in, the Omega sighs—head on the soft pillow, an arm resting over his forehead while the other ran softly along his damp skin, eyes covered with the weighted mask as he self soothed. The warm water destressing his tense muscles and joints lulls him to an almost sleep like state. Body languid. Cheeks rosy pink from the steam.
Mind almost clear.
Almost.
In a way, he understood why Jayce was the way he was. The Omega wanted to give him some grace. They both had been forced into this political circus without a regard to what they wanted. It didn’t erase the fact that Jayce had been, for lack of a better word, an asshole.
He sighs, loud, thinking about the man.
Jayce…
Viktor didn’t want to admit it, but lately he had been really, uh, needy for certain things. His body had been impossibly hot. Running at temperatures that were only able to come down after he brought himself to an orgasm or two. Not to mention the Alpha that smelled of fire fresh from the forge was haunting his dreams lately.
Like a wilting garden, Viktor needed to be watered.
Viktor didn’t feel proud of it, but he’d bite his lower lip whenever his mind conjured images from his memory—from their very first time—and he would… well, he would touch himself to completion. The way Jayce had handled him at the beginning was still a hard pill to swallow, but the sensations after the first portion—sensations that brought him to orgasm over and over… he could remember those so vividly it made his core throb with an insatiable hunger he didn’t know he could possess.
Damn it all.
Very consciously, the hand roaming his body slips under the water line, below his flat stomach and over his mound. He was alone for the time being. Sky usually left him for half an hour or so before the water needed to be heated up again.
He makes quick work of it. Spurred on by rough hands, rugged looks, and corded muscles on sun kissed skin. His sensitive clit was screaming for it, needy and wanting that tongue which had been eager to please. Viktor could picture it. Could pretend to imagine to have seen the way those hazel eyes had rolled back at just having the opportunity to have a taste.
He could pretend.
Pretend that those hot lips worshipped his body, his neck, his face, his lips.
Pretend that Jayce’s touch hadn’t just been fueled by lust but also by tender affection.
He could imagine that the Jayce in his head wasn’t a total arse, but the opposite.
One that saw Viktor with reverence, love, and tenderness…
One that took Viktor’s pleasure above his own and lived just to see his golden eyes filled with nothing but love towards him.
One that made love to Viktor with that thick cock of his in all the delicious ways Viktor knew Jayce potentially could.
Viktor couldn’t help it then—his body and mouth had a mind of their own. The name that escapes his lips should not be anywhere near to being voiced, but it slips. With a beautiful arch of his back, and quick skillful circles on his wet clit, he cums.
“Jayce,” he breathes out. The name echoing in the confines of the bath house. His chest heaving as a loud moan escapes his gaping mouth.
His orgasm was quick and to the point, but not nearly enough to satiate the growing hunger within that had been steadily growing.
His heat.
The need to feel full and knotted was becoming more palpable every day. He needed his Alpha and the Omega within knew it.
It is then that he feels it, the presence of his spouse entering the pool. As if beckoning the man with his mind. Viktor feels the eyes fixated on his naked form. Barely visible by the dimmed lighting and milky bath, but still enough to give a proper show.
The curious need that possesses him has him pretending not to notice. Blaming it on his instincts to see what the Alpha would do. So he keeps playing with himself. Knowing that he’d deny Jayce if he dared to force himself upon Viktor.
… right?
He’d like to think that he would.
Yet…
Even now it felt like the metaphorical shelter he built to get away from the storm that was Jayce Talis was slowly eroding away by the constant downpour the man brought. He swore he locked the door and had thrown away the key to not ever see it again. Yet—yet Jayce was like the rain steadily tapping on the glass, persistent and loud until eventually, little by little, Viktor was cracking the window open.
His ears pick up the splashing sounds the water makes as Jayce’s legs move through it. As expected, the man has the grace of a wild animal.
It’s like the Omega knows just how close his Alpha is—Viktor’s scent grows sweeter, more alluring. Intoxicating even with the smell of roses lingering in the air. He wants to hate it, he really does, but his instincts are on fire and his need wants to be quenched. Jayce was a flame that Viktor kept dancing around half-healed and he abhorred it. Detested how much his body betrayed him.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he hears the huskiness in Jayce’s voice. How affected the man is by the sight in front of him.
Not again, not again.
That shouldn’t—that really, really shouldn’t affect Viktor the way it does, but his body is reacting to the man again, fine hairs raising on his skin as Viktor’s movements come to a still at the expectation from the Omega within to be claimed.
“Let me please you,” Jayce whispers, longing in his voice, settling his calloused hands on Viktor’s small waist. Firmly grasping him there.
“Assistance is the last thing I require, Jayce,” Viktor says, trying to keep his tone steady as a pleased sigh threatened to escape him at the contact. Like a moth drawn to a flame, Viktor was becoming hopeless in his desire. “I am taking better care of myself than you ever could be capable of.”
Jayce growls, his grip becoming tighter on his dewy skin. The pressure making him arch his lower back involuntarily. Viktor chose to remain blindfolded, his senses and imagination were heightened this way. He relished in the way the man held him, so possessive. Figured there had to be something really wrong with him for liking it. “I could take such good care of you, baby. Please.”
This surely isn’t the same Jayce.
Asking for permission?
“You’re being good now? Surprising,” he says dryly.
“Let me show you just how good I can be,” the Alpha insists, needy in the way he wants to please Viktor.
The makes him shudder because Viktor really fucking likes that. He considers this, worrying his lower lip between his teeth until it comes back red, bruised and glistening. He hears the way Jayce takes in a breath, almost as if he wanted to be the one biting it, instead. That mere thought has him blushing.
It was about Viktor’s pleasure, he concluded.
“Do that thing with your tongue. Maybe we’ll have a longer discussion after that,” Viktor is surprised by the words leaving his lips, not wanting the longing that made a home in his chest to be there at all.
Tugging, pulling him towards Jayce’s orbit.
“Your wish is my command.”
The Omega is silent, waiting with bated breath. The sounds magnified by the darkness he’s in. Viktor’s hand leaves his hard nub, legs parting even further to allow Jayce to come between them. It settles on the stomach in front of him as Jayce moves, exploring the hard outlines of his abs. The touch almost foreign as he is right now—blindfolded, not seeing how the Alpha looks.
He could do it like this, Viktor thinks, blinded.
Not looking at Jayce’s face would be easier.
The velvet darkness sharpens every breath, every sound, every touch on Viktor’s skin. Magnifying the scorching heat within. Something that wouldn’t quite be possible if Jayce’s face was visible.
The deluge of emotions coursing through his chest are as sudden as the fresh wave of slick that seeps out of him.
Uncertainty for allowing this to happen.
Excitement at the electric jolts going up his spine.
Apprehension, not entirely wanting the Alpha but knowing that he still had a treaty to uphold.
…Or so he kept telling himself.
The ambiguity of the situation was enough to let him make up his mind. He needed to be filled. His body was craving to be knotted over and over again, needing to get bred. The primal urges were taking over and settled a fog over his mind that he couldn’t clear.
On Viktor’s terms, right?
Jayce doesn’t wait for voiced confirmation to keep going. He just does it.
Taking.
Always taking.
Viktor feels him move his hands below the water, lifts him up by the small of his back. The water allows him to float, making his body easier to move around. Briefly, he wonders just how hard it would be to fuck like this, but that’s not what he’s focused on right then.
No.
He’s focused on the way Jayce’s beard is suddenly prickling his inner thighs, lips caressing the sensitive skin there, and on the way the Alpha’s breath is caught once his nose slightly presses against his sensitive mound. The pad of a thumb traces his folds with ease. The silence around them pulsing with heat. Not from the bath, but from their bodies.
No words. Just touch and breaths as the world fades away.
The sensitive scent glands near Viktor’s core secrete oils when Jayce’s warm breath ghosts over his folds, pulling Viktor slowly towards his mouth and bathing the Alpha in a scent that will let anyone know just exactly where Jayce has been.
Why did that thought have a possessive streak coursing through him?
A mean one, at that.
The next thing Viktor knows, he’s feeling Jayce’s face, going for his hair before grasping and pulling it. Selfishly bringing Jayce’s mouth close to where he was just imagining it to be in his head a few minutes ago.
It’s wishful thinking, really, how Viktor pretended that Jayce could actually immerse himself into him. How he wanted those eyes actually rolling back at having a taste of Vikt—
His grip tightens on Jayce’s hair as the firm tongue licks a trail from his entrance to the peak of his cunt. Once. Then twice. And then his body is humming, vibrating almost, as Jayce repeats the motions over and over again.
Warm.
Wet.
Electric.
The Omega’s other hand settles on the edge of the pool, hanging on to it for dear life as the pace Jayce sets is relentless in its pursuit. The flicks of the tip of Jayce’s tongue are quick, deliberate. Meant for pure and utter pleasure. Meant only for Viktor at that moment. Viktor bites his lower lip because he’s still stubborn. He will not allow Jayce to know just how much he’s actually enjoying it.
Viktor’s core burns and burns and throbs with pleasure at the lewd sounds in the silence of the room, heavy with the delicious anticipation of Viktor’s climax. Like a dog drinking water. Delectable in the way Jayce is moaning as if he’s actually been wanting this.
It’s so filled with bliss, so hot and perverse that he’s seeing white in the velvet darkness of the blindfold.
Yes, Viktor thinks, Jayce could be his lapdog and do wicked things with that tongue.
And so he unwinds, trapping Jayce’s head between his trembling thighs as his bandaged eyes roll back, overwhelmed.
He can’t quite register what happens next.
He just notices a few gentle touches, a nudge to part his legs, Jayce grasping his waist with one hand, and then the hard press of—oh, there it is. Slow to push in the fat head of his cock.
He could do this.
He could do this.
Jayce wasn’t being rough.
He could do this.
Yet, as the head kept pressing in and Jayce’s breathing became more shallow…
He couldn’t.
“Who said you could—ah, enter me?” Viktor asks, breathless.
But his hips had a mind of their own and are sinking further into that hardness. Body willing but mind unwilling. Gods, why is his cunt greedily clenching like that as inch by excruciatingly delicious inch enters him?
“Your tight pussy begging for me,” Jayce responds matter of fact, deliciously thrusting into him all the way. Retreating only to go back in again. Eliciting a garbled moan from Viktor and a pleased exhale from Jayce. “You’re mine, V.”
Viktor frowns at that comment. Almost wishing Jayce had shut up so he could get bedded.
Takes a moment to process the words and catch his breath. Once again reminded that he is just seen as an object.
So he starts seeing red in the darkness he was momentarily engulfed in. Jayce is pulling out, ready to snap his hips forward once more when Viktor asks him to stop and pushes Jayce’s hips away.
Indignant, he takes off the blindfold, eyes adjusting in the dim lightning. Removing the hands grasping his waist, he stands. Water droplets dripping down his lissome body. His furrowed brows showing exactly how he’s feeling as he stares up at Jayce, miffed and discontented with the naked man in front of him.
His rage is clear as day as he speaks, his tongue wrapping around the consonants heavily. Accent as thick as the tense air that had settled over them. “My warmth is a privilege you take for granted, Talis.”
“Then let me not,” he responds, arresting Viktor’s body against his own. The hardness hanging heavy between them making Viktor falter, blush, then push Jayce away again.
“Let’s get one thing straight here,” Viktor points a finger up at Jayce. “You will never know my warmth again on your terms.”
“Shackle me and do whatever you want to me then,” Jayce muses, a coy smile playing on those full lips. “On your terms, baby.” Then begins kissing his neck, making Viktor tremble again.
Cocky bastard.
Viktor’s frown deepens. Once again, pettiness is not above him. “You’d have better luck asking your lover.”
Jayce stops, pulls back with hardened features. Where there used to be mirth, there is now vexation. “You keep saying she’s my lover.”
“I am no stranger to the way your eyes wander.”
“Because it should’ve been her to wed you.”
“What?”
“Viktor,” Jayce takes a deep breath, grabbing him by the waist again. This time more tender, more intimate. Viktor tries not to look at the tan skin of his neck, marred by the bite he himself inflicted. “I was not fit to be your mate.”
“Clearly,” Viktor scoffs, wanting to get out. Pushing at the hard pectorals in front of him to get some distance.
Futile. Jayce barely budges.
“Mel was. Your parents knew this. For some reason or another, the othet council members convinced them I was the best match for you. I got so lost in my resentment that I was blindsided to your own pain.”
In a very Zaunite way, Jayce leans their foreheads together. It is sudden, something the Omega wasn’t expecting, and it startled Viktor, but he doesn’t pull away. The words a heavy medicine to swallow.
Gods, why doesn’t he pull away?
A part of him believes him, that’s why.
Still naively thinking that there’s good in people.
He almost hated himself at that moment. Try as he might, he couldn’t be like his father, Silco.
The words Vander whispered to him right before giving him away at the altar echo in his head.
Councilor Talis was the only one we would accept for you.
He had trusted his father’s words. A part of him had even fluttered with hope at the idea of getting an Alpha that Vander approved of.
“Let us do things right,” Jayce whispers. His large hand settles on his nape, breath ghosting over his lips. The smell of Viktor’s slick fresh on Jayce’s breath makes him shudder with unmasked need.
“There’s only duty to uphold, Councilor. None of this fixes our first night together.” Viktor reminds him. But a part of him still hopes. Still longs for some semblance of… love.
“Let me erase it and show you how much I can worship you,” Jayce whispers, a little too passionate. A little too close to what Viktor had been thinking about earlier. It was as though Jayce was reading his mind, living in the crooks and folds of his brain.
It caused confusion. Viktor was perplexed and it was overwhelming him in ways he hadn’t been before because he wanted what Jayce was offering.
“From the very first time I laid my eyes on you, I have not been able to stop thinking of you. I apologize for.. for being so rough on your very first time. The idea of someone else touching you—“he grips him tighter “—that way had the primal part of me reacting unwillingly but-but I know now I was your one and only. Please, V. I’m sorry. I-I need you. Teach me how to make it right. Help me.” The breathlessness in his voice is affecting Viktor. So are the rough hands now moving over the divots of his hips, caressing the swell of his ass and firmly squeezing.
But the admittance has Viktor’s heart beating fast in his chest. So Jayce did know Viktor was a virgin. Jayce’s apology should’ve quelled his despondent anger. Should’ve softened the hardness in his chest but it only fanned the fire. So if he hadn’t been a virgin, then what? He wouldn’t have apologized?
Was he misunderstanding this? Perhaps. Jayce wasn’t using the correct words and Viktor was growing frustrated at the Alpha only seeking him out when he wanted to get his cock wet.
“You’re sorry?” Viktor echoes in disbelief, not quite bitter but—tired. “A flimsy apology. How useless. It is much too late,” Viktor firmly says, regretfully untangling from the Alpha’s touch as he begins to walk out of the pool, pausing once he’s on the first step on the descent down. “You know what I wish for, Jayce?”
Silence.
Heavy silence.
Viktor takes in a deep shuddering breath. The storm in his eyes no longer being held back. Chest tightening, heat flooding his face—he cries. The tears sharp and sudden, unbidden. He just wanted to be understood and fix what was so unfair about this power imbalance between the two of them. Viktor was just supposed to take what Jayce dished out? No. He… he was truly tired.
Shaking his head, he sniffles. Jaw tightening, fist shaking. He was so weak and emotional. The fire burning inside of him fueled by the things he can’t control along with the vestigial remains of his heart.
The silence between them stretches out.
So Viktor breaks it.
Not bothering to look back, he continues. “I wish I could get a glimpse into that head of yours. Maybe then I would understand why the dirt you step on is treated better than your own husband.”
“Viktor, no. Wait, I—“ Jayce is frantic, the protest caught in his throat. Viktor hears the way the water starts rippling, as if Jayce had begun to gravitate towards him, but he doesn’t care. Opting to walk out without his robe. Just his cane. “Viktor, please!”
An apology didn’t take back the nights he had cried himself to sleep. It didn’t take back the prolonged tense silences shared between the two or the many days that went by without Jayce reaching out to Viktor to clear the air and close the abyss that was threatening to swallow them whole.
Nor did it take back that night Ximena had prepared for the both of them where Viktor had dared to hope, only to have it crushed into pieces.
There would’ve been a time where Jayce’s apology would’ve unraveled him. A time where it would’ve meant something, where it would’ve made Viktor fight for them.
Like summer turning into autumn, that time had passed.
Now, because Jayce desired a piece of Viktor, the man wanted to apologize? Because that’s what it looks like. By all means, it seems that Jayce was starved for Viktor’s touch and needed Viktor to submit without any regard to what Viktor wanted.
Enough.
Viktor had enough.
Jayce had to try harder than that.
For an apology didn’t fix anything, but it did signify the beginning of Jayce’s penance.
Viktor walked out of the bathhouse, naked and not giving a damn about the curious looks the servants and one of Jayce’s security guards, Steb, gave him on his way out. Gold met piercing blue as the guard blinked sideways, gaze quickly roaming his body, pretty aqua colored scales around his eyes flaring out and fluttering in question. Viktor kept walking, ignoring the silent question.
Before he could round the corner that led back to the house, the Vestaya had quickened his pace and settled a long black shirt on him. To cover what was left of his dignity, he supposed. Once again those eyes settled on his in question as Viktor paused and turned to glance his way. An odd sensation washed over Viktor when the guard placed a surprisingly heavy, cold hand on his shoulder. Viktor stared at it then back to the taller man in front of him that always smelled of the ocean.
“I’m fine. Thank you,” Viktor says, low and curious as to why Steb even cared. Noticing the white tank top the male wore, it clicked in his head—this was Steb’s shirt.
Steb nods before going back into the bathhouse to look for his master.
Viktor’s racing thoughts could only settle on one thing after that… odd interaction.
It was a quiet acceptance—his heart had given up hope that things would change. Maybe he wouldn’t get a happy ending, but Zaun and Piltover will freeze over before he got a crappy one.
Notes:
I promise they’ll have a proper talk soon. I am debating whether to do Jayce’s POV yet or not 🙃🙃
Chapter 5: Soul Tied
Summary:
They go into town.
An old flame.
A perfect performance.
Chapter Text
Jayce smiles.
And Viktor’s breath is caught in his throat.
How can one human being be capable of stealing the sun’s shine so easily?
How can Jayce be real?
Flecks of gold in those coral green eyes catch in the sun’s rays. Piercing as ever as the gaze is directed at him in all its glory, irises reflecting back an image of a man hopelessly in love.
All for him .
For Viktor.
“Did you ever think about us?” Jayce asks, smile diminishing but not losing its spark.
A large hand settles over his as they stare at each other. All the comfort in the world held in the man he held dear to his heart and soul.
They lay there, side by side like sunflowers on a field of green, absorbing the sunlight and blooming in its warm glow.
“Always,” Viktor responds, golden orbs searching the rugged man’s hazel ones. “You were always in my mind one way or another, Jayce. Our paths diverged, but my heart never strayed.”
They turn to face each other fully, like babies in a mother’s womb. The grass dewy below them, the smell of a permanent spring being carried by the breeze, rustling leaves in its wake and fanning their hair every which way.
“You’re my absolute. Our souls are entwined,” Viktor smiles, tender, gentle. There didn’t need to be any I love you’s, any I care about you’s—all there needed to be was them in that very moment, entwined and happy and utterly devoted to one another. Like two pieces of a puzzle, they fit together well.
Jayce’s eyes are full of adoration, of a reverence that it’s only reserved for Viktor. Like a bee drawn to a wildflower, their foreheads connect. A hand much too large for the tender affection it holds grasps his long tresses—a garden of its own melting into the blades of green below them. Their breaths mingling, giving life to their devotion.
Sunshine and rain making nature thrive, that’s what they were. An infinite piece of who they were.
“To infinity’s end, darling,” Jayce whispers. All the love in the world, all the affection between the two of them is held in that bubble at that very moment.
“ In all timelines, ” Viktor smiles, heart light and full of a joy he’s never known.
“ In all possibilities ,” Jayce continues.
“ Only you ,” they finish together.
ʚஐɞ
Lonely.
That feeling that kept curling in his chest and wrapping around him like a wet blanket was loneliness.
Viktor settled down for the rest of the night, his thoughts drifting back to that dream and then to earlier in the evening—images that had him laying there, restless. It shouldn’t have taken Jayce so long to apologize. The man was clearly thinking with that second head of his, but some parts resonated with Viktor.
Viktor lays there. Under blankets that were much too soft. On a bed that is not fully his. Much too big and vast for him. Much too cold for his comfort.
Much too empty and crisply made where Jayce should be.
Tossing and turning every which way. Roasting over the fire that was burning him from the inside out with need.
Overfilled with clashing emotions.
Disappointment, quiet anger.
Resentment.
Longing.
That dream felt so real, so lively. That Jayce wasn’t his Jayce, but another version of him in another universe. Another timeline. Where secondary genders did not exist and they were just two human souls in the aftermath of whatever chaos they were thrown into or, erm, sucked out of.
Where all that remained was them and their undying love.
How tragic—doomed partners that could only get their happy ending in some sort of pocket dimension where time remained suspended. The lump in his throat was for many reasons, but mostly for the sad reality of what his life had become.
ʚஐɞ
The following morning Viktor found himself at the breakfast table in the kitchen, a thick concrete wall away from the main dining room where Ximena and Jayce were currently chatting over tea and pastries.
Sky sits beside him. Steb right across from him on the small wooden table. The kitchen, usually alive with the hum of servants coming in and out, having come to a still long ago. “You know, Steb, Mr. Talis over here hasn’t seen any of Piltover. You think you can tag along?”
He watches as Steb does a series of hand gestures, recognizes the hook of his index finger as “ask” and a follow up as “master.”
Viktor shifts on his seat, “it is not necessary to ask Councilor Talis.”
Steb cocks his head, signs “you master.”
Viktor had felt so small lately, he didn’t realize he held an important role in the house and, to a very large extent, in the Talis house affairs. Some semblance of power.
“Oh, right,” he responds, nibbling on a creme stuffed croissant. “Your company would be welcomed, Steb. If my dearest husband has anything to say, he can say it directly to me, no?”
Steb’s scales lift slightly, an amused smile playing on his lips before giving a short nod towards Viktor.
“Let’s finish our meal and then we can head out?” Sky asks eagerly, sipping on her tea a little too fast.
“All this excitement, Sky. One would surely think it is you that hasn’t set foot in the heart of Piltover,” Viktor says, studying the curly haired beta.
“Ah, it has been quite a while since I was last there. Normally, Mr. Talis sends his errand boy or the cooks to fetch whatever is needed for the house or kitchen,” Sky smiles, a child patiently waiting for their prize after a long day of chores.
Viktor hums, “I suppose we are to ask Mr. Talis for some pocket change?”
Sky nods.
“Very well. Have them prepare the carriage after we are finished,” Viktor says, and she finishes her meal in quiet excitement.
A sense of dread begins to wash over Viktor. Asking his husband for money was not how he imagined he’d be spending his morning.
ʚஐɞ
Yet here he was.
Jayce Talis was in his study. Having recently settled down after breakfast. Surrounded by books, old and new, that smelled of ink and vintage leather. Leaning against the open door, a hand on his hip, and legs crossed over the ankles, Viktor analyzes the man hunched over his cherry mahogany desk—one of those made of real wood, with intricate designs, many drawers and gold accents. Jayce sat on the dark brown leather chair, with its tufted button backing and curved handles made of even more wood, exuding every bit of the Piltovian man he was.
Viktor rolls his eyes.
Of course the sun would make his aura shine, as well. Briefly reminding him of that dream last night that had his heart skipping a beat.
Hah. Not in this timeline, he thinks bitterly.
The scratching sounds of pen on paper come to a halt when the alpha notices the presence of his omega.
“Darling,” Jayce says, smiling, piercing eyes looking up from the glasses on the bridge of his nose—and of course the Piltie Councilor wears those round spectacles well.
Viktor rolls his eyes yet again.
“My absolute,” he sarcastically snorts.
Jayce frowns. Sparks of recognition light his countenance. A fond smile spreads on his lips. Remnants of a past memory he seems to be reminiscing in.
Jayce straightens, eyeing the male omega shutting the door he had been leaning against, “what can I do for you on this lovely morning?”
Somehow, his tone is softer, more gentle.
Viktor ignores the way it makes him seem out of norm. Soft and gentle displays from the older male were traits of his unknown to Viktor.
“I need a couple silver gears.”
Jayce’s lips purse, seemingly thinking of what to say, then motions for Viktor to come closer. “Come,” he says, not really an order but not elaborating what for, either. When Viktor stands in front of his desk, Jayce shakes his head and points beside him. Turning to face him on his rolling chair once Viktor unwillingly closes the distance.
“Should I be concerned about what this money is for?”
Already uncomfortable with the situation, Viktor shakes his head. Today he didn’t want to argue with the man. For once he just wanted to have a normal conversation with his husband that didn’t end up in an argument or ended in a show of the obvious power imbalance between the two.
“I didn’t realize I had to tell you what our insurmountable wealth is going to be spent on, my dearest husband,” Viktor tightly says, sharp eyes settling on the smiling man in front of him. Not afraid to admit that Jayce’s wealth was as much his as it was the alpha’s. Jayce so freely took from him, it was time for Viktor to enjoy some of what he had to offer. Even if it was just for a stroll out on the town.
Jayce thumbs at his lower lip, assessing Viktor with a curious gleam in his eyes. There was no malice, no ill will, just plain old curiosity. The disconcerting feeling that had made a home in Viktor’s chest whenever he was around the alpha is not present.
His hand curls on the handle of his cane when Jayce’s eyes settle on his. For a fleeting second, a spark ignites as they stare at each other. It’s brief, passing, but very much there.
“I heard you were going into town with Sky.”
“Something of the sort,” Viktor admits.
“Not planning on leaving me, are you?”
“In my dreams, I run away as far as this weak body can carry me,” Viktor retorts. Snippets of his old self coming out.
When Jayce smiles it’s… genuine. The type that shows off his canines and those perfectly white teeth that have the sunlight bouncing off of them.
The type that made dream Viktor’s breath catch in his throat much like the real him is at that moment.
“Whenever you need money, there is a stash right here,” he says, swiveling around to open a secret compartment at the foot of the large windows behind his desk. Pushing the black carpet to the side, he takes a key from around his neck and inserts it in a hidden lock on the floorboard.
When he opens it, there’s more money than he can count or has ever seen in his life. It sits there, nestled between some documents and other, smaller artifacts that he imagines are worth more than his life. His eyes go momentarily wide. “Don’t Pilties believe in banks or something?”
“We do. This is just for a rainy day,” Jayce casually says, grabbing a small pouch and handing it out for Viktor to take along with a spare key he unlatched from the string around his neck.
If that was for a rainy day, he didn’t want to know how many zeroes his bank account held.
Viktor nearly lets it fall, the surprising weight of it on his hands suddenly alarming. “What if we get robbed? This is far too much. I—“
“Darling, it’s Piltover,” Jayce reminds him. No real bite in it, but still a cold reminder of the different upbringings they both had. “Get whatever you want.”
Viktor reluctantly nods, irked by the pet name Jayce suddenly took a liking to.
“Are we leaving now?” Jayce asks after Viktor just stood there. From his study window, he could see Sky and Steb waiting by the carriage near the tall gates.
“Pardon?” Viktor asks, stomach dropping.
“I’m coming,” Jayce says. As if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Viktor is a stuttering mess then, “no, no. Eh, I don’t—I don’t think that’s a, uh, necessary—“
“Well, I insist,” Jayce responds. After closing the hidden coffer, he stands, settles his glasses on the desk, grabs Viktor’s arms and runs his hands up and down the length of them. Meant to be soothing but only serving to alarm him.
It was almost as if the man had done a complete 180.
Viktor stares, not sure if he should feel scared or surprised. Regardless, he wasn’t expecting the alpha to come.
“I’ll wear a cloak, Jayce. So people don’t recognize me. Not that they’d know who I am,” Viktor says.
“There’s newspapers and posters with our faces all around town.” Jayce responds. “It’d be good publicity,” he finishes, towering over Viktor so he has to crane his neck for a glance at him.
Viktor exhales, miffed at not being able to fully enjoy the experience, “of course. How silly of me to forget that we are to parade around town and pretend.”
Jayce frowns, “Vik, that is not what I meant.”
“It is as you command, Councilor.”
“Stop being so difficult,” Jayce huffs. Brows pulling down.
Oh.
So now Viktor was being difficult. “It seems your tongue speaks before your mind properly processes anything.”
Jayce sighs, pressing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, “I-I’m sorry. At this rate, we will not produce an heir any time soon. The people need to see that we are still together. Keep a strong front. I was planning to ask you to come to Zaun with me. Whenever you’re ready. To visit your parents. We also have that six month event coming up.”
Viktor contemplates Jayce’s words, momentarily stunned.
“They will eat you alive,” he muses after a slight pause.
“Not if they see us together, baby,” Jayce says, leaning against the edge of the desk, suddenly holding Viktor around the waist. Pressing their bodies close.
Viktor frowns.
“I am not your baby nor your darling,” Viktor says, thrown off by the pet names. “Are you always this touchy?” He attempts to push away from Jayce. The alpha holds him in place.
Their proximity makes Viktor panic. Knees feeling like rubber, not sure if he should fight or take flight.
It confused Viktor and that is one thing he disliked—the uncertainty. It felt disingenuous coming from Jayce considering how they started their relationship.
“Please don’t do that,” the disdain in his voice evident.
“Do what?” Jayce asks innocently, coy smile playing on his lips. Faces mere inches from one another. A warmth in his chest that couldn’t be placated.
“Pretend like you want something other than what my body has to offer,” Viktor responds.
“Tsk. I let my anger cloud my judgment and I will spend the rest of my life apologizing if I have to. Let me make it right.”
The stern look on Jayce’s face has Viktor almost wanting to do just that. Next to this version of Jayce he felt… exposed.
At that very moment, Viktor felt vulnerable for a lot of reasons.
The dream.
His family.
Loneliness of the heart.
The neediness inside of him that fogged up his mind and confused his emotions and any touch on his skin—his heat—had him shuddering at the proximity of the other male. The need growing stronger every day, its peak coming soon.
He wondered if Jayce felt it, too. The need Viktor had within.
A part of him wished more than anything that what Jayce was offering him was legitimate. Not a promise disguised as false hope.
“Words do not speak louder than actions,” Viktor reminds him.
“Okay,” Jayce responds, determination lighting a fire in his eyes, dropping his hands as he lets Viktor go. “Okay. I’ll show you.”
Immediately, the omega within is disappointed at the loss of contact, but Viktor himself is relieved.
He straightens his dress shirt, adjusts his tie, and moves away from the alpha. “Since you’re coming, you can carry the pouch.”
“Ah, yes. Do I get to see you showing off the new clothes you pick out?” Jayce jokes.
“As if!”
ʚஐɞ
The carriage ride into the heart of Piltover had been thick with the awkward silence in the small cabin. No words were exchanged aside from a few comments here and there from Sky about where other important houses were, or how far away they were from their destination. Which was not that long, to be frank.
A few bumps on the cobblestone road here and there had Viktor inevitably leaning further into the person beside him. Which, currently, was Steb. They kept apologizing to one another when a particular bump would throw Viktor almost onto his lap or send Steb’s elbow digging into his stomach.
Steb placed a hand on his chest, fist forming the letter A and rubbing circles, which he understood to be “sorry” when a particular bump threw them against the wall. The Vestaya was tall and all long limbs, so Viktor really did understand.
“It’s okay, really. Here I thought Pilties had better roads than Zaun,” he jokes, a small quirk of his lips thrown Steb’s way.
“Worst,” Steb signs, and Viktor laughs. Forgetting the awkwardness for a brief moment before it settles into something more serious when Jayce’s eyes bore into Steb a little too hard. Sky is fiddling her index fingers together on her lap, nervous and intimidated by the alpha’s threatening scent.
Viktor had to remind himself that this was Jayce. He could try to control the beast within but inevitably, he expected Jayce to always fail. That disappointed him.
“My dearest husband, you’re stinking up the cabin. Please knock it down a notch,” Viktor remarks.
Steb peeked Jayce’s way and immediately straightened at the intimidating look the alpha was exuding. As if the insensitive man had swallowed the more sensible one from earlier.
“Ah, we’re here!” Sky beams. Her joy spreading to Viktor as soon as the carriage comes to a stop.
Steb steps out first, holding the door open. Sky hops out, aided by the guard and then Jayce. When Steb doesn’t move, Jayce clears his throat and lets his guard know that he’s got it.
Viktor has to keep reminding himself that this is for show. This is for prosperity. For a brighter future. For all the good that he wouldn’t get to enjoy. But for good, nonetheless.
So he trains his scowl into something easier to swallow and steps out, grabbing his husband’s expecting hand. Jayce instantly takes a firm hold of it, bends at his waist, and of all the things Viktor expected that day, the press of Jayce’s soft lips on the back of his bony hand was the last one. Hairs tickling the skin there.
Their eyes meet. A lightning bolt surges through his body.
Viktor could pretend this it how it always was. Certainly, it would do no damage. His heart was already broken, so there was nothing else to break.
In a swift motion, Jayce is once again towering over him and offering his arm for support. Gently prying the cane from Viktor’s hold and unceremoniously pushing it onto Steb’s chest, who immediately takes it. This way, he’d be forced to lean into the man and play the loving mate he’s supposed to be.
Of course.
Of course.
Their charade.
Oh, how he was growing tired of it already.
“Fix your face, darling,” Jayce comments beside him. “People are staring. At least pretend you don’t hate me.”
“I’d have to be born again for that to happen,” Viktor says, but he does as instructed, tilting his chin high to better take in the scenery. Piltover’s clean streets were bustling with all kinds of personalities. A lovely surprise to see a few Zaunites walking out in the open, too.
The soft tap-tap of their shoes on the cobblestone path is nearly muffled out by the hum of vibrant conversations all around them. Sky had fallen back a few paces to give them space but still very close by. The cloak they both wore rustled its Talis red and gold along with the wind. Jayce had insisted on wearing them. The day would get chillier as it progressed. Autumn was hanging heavy in the air and the streets smelled of rain, so it was bound to have them shivering sooner rather than later. Even if the sun was shining its rays down on them.
For once, he was glad he listened to the alpha. He wasn’t too glad at showing off the Talis crest on his back. A brand of ownership—a reminder that he couldn’t get away from the man even if he tried.
A few pups are running around with their mothers frantically trailing behind them. Their small cloaks wet from the small puddles of rain that had formed the day prior. Puddles they weren’t supposed to be playing in. The occasional Vestaya, and a few Yordles here and there are seen walking about. Pilties and outsiders alike squinting into the quaint shop windows. The likes Viktor hasn’t seen before.
Eyes wide with wonder, he analyzes the structures that seem to be a copy of one another. Foundations made of stone with what appears to be homes for the shopkeepers above them. Made of timber framed facades with white plaster walls and red tiled roofs with chimneys sticking out of them. Most of the wooden doors are propped open to receive the influx of eager customers with deep pockets. A steel trimmed sign above each one with the shop’s name.
The scent of alphas and omegas alike hangs heavy in the air, too. Not just from Piltover but other parts of Runeterra. Piltover was the hub for trade with the Hexgates his husband invented, after all, so it was to be expected to have so much diversity all around. Diversity from other city states, even Zaun. Zaunites tended to keep in the shadows, remain unseen. Looking around, however, he was happy to find that was not the case.
A flock of birds migrating south swoop lazily above them in the blue canvas of the sky.
Feeling like a child on a new playground, Viktor’s smile is full of genuine joy.
“This is much different than Zaun,” Viktor comments, drifting back to the alpha who was waving at a couple from across the other side of the street.
Jayce smiles, though it’s the fake one he gives everyone else—the one that doesn’t reach his eyes—and that has Viktor’s chest constricting. Once again reminded that this was their first public parade of many.
“In a good or bad way?” Asks Jayce in return, showing that he was paying attention.
Viktor’s stare fixates on a rather large poster hanging above a clothing shop called Piltover Fashion. A clean shaven Jayce and what looks like Viktor with his long strands of hair slicked back, as it had been on their wedding day. The words “Men of Progress” written in bold below. It’s just their faces, but it is enough to let him know that people did care. People did believe.
People did notice.
Odd as it was to see his face plastered like that, it reassured him. This was for the greater good.
Jayce is staring at him then. A soft look on his rough face.
“They do not take well to your new look,” Viktor notes.
Jayce shrugs, “the only semblance of control we have is our appearances. They do not get to take that away from me.”
“Ah, that explains the wild hairs all over you,” Viktor replies.
Jayce raises an eyebrow, “you do not like my hair?”
They come to a stand still in front of a restaurant, “I did not say that.”
“Do you want me to be like the rest of them, darling?”
“Eh, you already feel very entitled to what you believe belongs to you. I don’t see how a hair cut would change anything,” Viktor says, sharp gold meeting round hazel.
“If you tell me to do something, I’ll do it. Your wish is my command.”
The alpha puffs up his chest and Viktor exhales a silent laugh.
“Jump off The Bridge of Progress,” Viktor’s response is immediate, deathly serious in the wake of their earlier banter.
“Ah, I’ll do almost anything,” Jayce nervously chuckles. “Within reason,” he adds after a beat of silence. “I wouldn’t want you to be a widow after barely five months of being mated.”
Viktor laughs, realizing that goading the alpha was not difficult at all. “You’re easy to tease.”
Jayce smiles, “you’ll find I’m pretty easy in a lot of things.”
Viktor rolls his eyes, but the uplift of his cheeks is beginning to feel more natural, “I have an idea of just how easy you can be, Councilor.”
“It’s Jayce. Just Jayce,” he corrects him.
“Ah, alright, Just Jayce.”
He doesn’t miss the way those impossibly green eyes flick down to his lips. Or the way his smile falters as a nameless hunger takes over Jayce’s features.
Viktor found himself forgetting the way things were at home, if he could even call that grand house his home. Far from forgiving, but still open to have a normal conversation with his… husband, Viktor decides that moments like these, easygoing and free of worries, were something he could do. Even if it was a facade on both their ends.
Jayce starts directing them towards another clothing store, one with an arrangement of suits, ties, dress shoes, and hats that seemed to be way more luxurious than what Viktor was accustomed to.
“I do not need any clothes, Jayce.”
“I know the shopkeeper here. Just one fitting is enough. Please,” Jayce asks, though the way he’s already pulling them over there is a clear sign there’s no room for discussion.
Viktor sighs and follows along. Sky not far behind. The bell rings as they step through the heavy oak door. It squeaks on its hinges as Jayce pulls it all the way open. Rows and rows of different types of suits, dress pants and textiles, line the shelves of the small shop.
The shopkeeper is towards the back, in front of a raised round stand. Currently pinching at a navy blue tuxedo on a mannequin. Her hands moving with practiced ease, long pink hair bouncing effortlessly as she hummed and tapped her foot along to a tune Viktor was not familiar with. Her pleated blue skirt and top were shining an iridescent color as they caught the light of the sun. Mismatched thigh high socks adorned her legs with intricate gold trimmed swirls wrapping around her lower legs.
Much like…
Uh-oh.
Viktor stills.
Jayce clears his throat and when the beta stylist turns around, Viktor has to stop himself from gawking. Surprise began spreading all through his body as the beautiful woman’s smile faltered. Viktor tried to control his rapidly beating heart. Sweat began to build up on his twitching palm.
“Viktor?!” Seraphine squealed, and all the color drained from the omega’s face. The hand holding onto Jayce’s arm crumpled the fabric below.
The inquisitive look on Jayce’s face did not go amiss on Viktor, who tightly smiled at Seraphine.
“How long has it been?” Her melodious voice rang in his ears, and he’s suddenly pulled back into Zaun. When he met the woman during his late teenage years.
Her parents had been visiting the city they were born in at their daughter’s request. Seraphine had been born a Piltie, but Zaun was the root of her family tree. The attraction between the two had been instantaneous. The beta’s effervescent nature and Viktor’s more reserved one went hand in hand perfectly well—at the beginning. So they dated for about a year before Viktor ended things due to their, erm, glaring differences and distance. Viktor had been inclined to look past them at the beginning but he could not do long distance.
“Sera,” Viktor greets. “It’s been what? Six years?”
Seraphine darts through the small shop. Viktor, already sensing the oncoming show of affection, untangles from Jayce just in time to receive the beta in his arms. Her neutral scent served to calm his nerves. Haltingly, his hands come up to return the embrace. A bit slow, almost too close.
“Your hair’s gotten so long. I didn’t recognize you until I saw your ridiculous socks,” Viktor notes, twirling a piece of the silky strands on his fingers.
She giggles. “I don’t remember you complaining about my socks back then.”
Holding her at arm’s length, he tries to hide the blush that threatened to burn his cheeks as certain, uh, memories flooded his head involving her and those thigh high socks. He deflected by introducing her to Steb and Sky as his friends, and then Jayce as his husband.
“I know,” she winks. “It’s all the buzz around town.”
“Not surprised,” Jayce says, scent somewhat overpowering the room. Most likely feeling left out. Viktor steps back, letting the beta go and taking the cane Steb was offering him.
“Mr. Golden Boy over here is a great catch, though,” her eyebrow wiggles playfully.
“You only say that because you’re our seamstress,” Jayce jokes.
Seraphine beams, “anything to keep our number one customers happy!”
“She was always so quick to compliment,” Viktor admits.
“Back then I meant it,” she replies, a sly smile on her face though it’s all for jokes.
Ah, residuals. Funny little things. They were making him flustered. Such was Seraphine’s charm.
“How do you two know each other?”
“We go way back, don’t we Vikki?”
The look on her face is playful, but Jayce’s mood is beginning to shift. The last thing Viktor wants is to have Jayce reverting back to his possessive ways. Not in public, at least.
So, he lies, “eh, we were good comrades back in Zaun.”
Seraphine laughs, “if that’s what you want to call it.” The pink haired woman winks at him again, a knowing smirk on her playful features.
Viktor swallows.
Jayce’s smile begins to fade. And Viktor starts hearing the alarm bells going off in his head screaming danger. The consequences not something he wanted to face later on.
Jayce is not dumb. One didn’t become a Councilor by playing stupid, but it seemed it was something he did well at that moment, though his scent was becoming acrid.
“I came to get Viktor fitted for a suit. We’ll be holding a celebration for our sixth months together within the coming weeks,” Jayce starts and Viktor is glad for him changing the subject.
The three months soiree hadn’t happened for obvious reasons. So they had agreed to make it a half a year celebration instead, with Ximena as their intermediary since they weren’t talking at the time.
“Right,” Viktor says, simpering.
“This way then,” the beta directs them towards the back, past an entrance with thick, red velvet curtains. A small room with mirrors all around the fitting platform in the center surrounds them. A vintage folding dresser is in a far corner of it. Neutral tones all around save for the vividness of Seraphine. She directs Viktor towards it, tells him to strip and come back out when he was ready.
Viktor wasn’t ready.
It’s not that he minded getting his body measured. He had to get fitted for his wedding suit before—it was just that it was Seraphine and Jayce.
Both of them had seen him in a state of undress, more or less. Only one had taken his virginity but he had gone down on the other.
That thought made Viktor inwardly groan.
This was going to be awkward. So he tried his best to keep a serious facade.
A few minutes later and Viktor is standing on the platform, naked except for the black lace panties he wore. Jayce was sitting on a deep buttoned tufted couch directly in front of him. Legs splayed open, leaned back with his arms resting on the armrests, eyes hungrily analyzing Viktor’s willowy frame.
Seraphine’s cool touch on his bare skin had him looking out for Jayce’s every movement. A slight inhale from the omega, almost silent but enough to make Jayce fix his watchful glare onto those deft fingers that kept working all over him. Try as he might to appear nonchalant , he was starting to slip.
A moment later had Jayce thumbing at his lower lip, staring at the gap between Viktor’s thighs. As if he’s memorizing every detail, every curve, every scar, every freckle. It was as though he couldn’t help the way he wanted Viktor. A quick flick of his tongue over his lips later and Viktor is averting his gaze. A shudder going down his spine that had memories from yesterday flooding his brain.
Trouble.
Jayce was trouble.
Seraphine is measuring the circumference of his thighs, fingers lingering a little too long—the measuring tape keeps slipping—almost as if she too is nervous. As if she could sense the way Jayce was watching both of them like a hawk. As if Seraphine was a real threat.
Jayce leans forward on his knees. Still carefully examining the way the beta moves. Seraphine’s back is to him, so she doesn’t quite notice the scrutinizing glare, but in a way she knows is there.
Viktor does notice, though. The intensity of it making his body heat up.
He swallows when the woman moves behind him, wraps the measuring tape around his small waist. All touch is professional. All touch devoid of any emotion. Cool, precise. Skillful fingers moving along his body like they’ve done this a thousand times.
So why was his heart beating so fast? And why was Jayce’s gaze fixated on the way Seraphine touched him? A possessive current in the air.
Too long.
This was taking too long.
His body was heating up to levels he didn’t know where possible. The back of his neck damp with sweat.
And those eyes.
Those damn eyes spoke volumes. Making him shift on his feet uncomfortably.
The man was feeling possessive and he was calculating the many ways he could potentially punish Viktor for it. Jayce didn’t need to tell him what kind of punishments. He perceived it from the way the bond between them was burning with a desire that was not inherently his.
Jayce’s hands were clenched in front of him, eyes hard and body wound tight. Ready to pounce. Then there was that slight tent in his pants when Viktor dared to glance down.
It shouldn’t have the effect that it does on Viktor, but he couldn’t help it. His anatomy was, at that moment, coded for this—for this man that made ambiguous emotions rise within him. Not to mention the way those eyes are undressing him as if he’s not already on the last piece of clothing that protects his dignity.
It makes him shudder. A deep throb in his core.
Betrayed by his instincts, he starts getting wet. A sweet heat taking root, making his core tingle with it in such a delicious way it has Viktor questioning everything. A quick glance at his reflection in the many mirrors had a very flustered version of him staring back at him. His attempts at keeping a straight face futile in the wake of Jayce’s heavy gaze.
Embarrassed.
He felt embarrassed when, for not the first time that afternoon, he shifts and the sticky wetness is very evident.
It hangs heavy in the air and they all could smell it, but no one spoke. No one said anything. Seraphine’s cheeks were dusted a rosy shade, and Jayce’s heated stare bore into Viktor’s with a raised brow and a smile that teetered on the line of being outright predatory.
Tense.
The air became heavy and thick with tension as Viktor averted his gaze, jaw closing tight. It had nothing to do with Seraphine and everything to do with Jayce. Viktor felt fucked up in the head for liking it—liking the way the alpha wanted to claim him and make him his as if duty didn’t mandate it already. Jayce didn’t have to speak for Viktor to know what he wanted to do to him.
Something told him that Jayce probably thought Seraphine was the one causing it—the fire in his belly. If it bothered him, Jayce didn’t let it show.
Just yet.
When they come out of the fitting room, Seraphine is quick to go into professional work mode. Letting them know when she’ll bring the suit herself and if there was anything else to be added, to just let her know. Of course the colors were that of the Talis house. Viktor had no real choice when it came down to that.
They hugged and bid their farewells after Jayce leaned in to whisper something in her ear that had the beta flustered and nodding silently in understanding. Viktor slowly delving back into that sense of dread he couldn’t shake off. Something was bound to happen. Anything could set Jayce off. It was an underlying sensation in their bond. Slowly, he was beginning to realize their emotions could be felt.
His father should’ve prepared him for this. He didn’t realize being this close to Jayce would have the alpha’s feelings mixing with his own. Vaguely, he wondered if that was normal as they traveled deeper into the town, past a few more shops, and then into the food marketplace. A building much larger than the rest, but with the same design. Sky and Steb remained steadily behind them while Viktor gathered what he required for today’s supper. An arrangement of greens and all kinds of poultry and different cuts of meats and other types of proteins were all around him.
Choices, so many choices. He truly felt like a kid in a candy shop.
Momentarily, he forgot about the incident from earlier and set about his task. Jayce observing his movements, offering a smile here and there to anyone who approached or recognized them. By the time they were done, Sky was carrying a basket filled with everything Viktor had picked out and they were slowly walking back towards their carriage.
Aside from the encounter earlier, the day had been… quite nice, actually. Jayce wasn’t insufferable and even though he would’ve loved to openly chat with the pair behind them without their boss being around, Viktor found himself enjoying the company.
Of all three of them, not just the other two.
He was currently chewing on a piece of caramel Jayce had bought for the group from a sweets vendor on the street when the man spoke up, seemingly continuing their conversation from earlier in the morning.
“We could do that, you know?” Jayce says beside him.
Viktor frowns, turning his head to take a better look at the man as he swallows the remnants of the sweet in his mouth. “Do what?”
“Run away. Together. Start over,” they pause in front of an actual candy shop. It’s colorful door a standout amongst the neutral ones that follow and precede it.
Viktor’s gaze averts, flits to where his hand is tightly curling around the leather handle of his cane. His heart flutters. That would be…
Something he’s not entirely opposed to, actually.
“And what? Live in a cottage by a stream?” Viktor asks, sardonic and unbelieving.
Jayce’s smile is soft, vulnerable almost as he speaks, “with four kids.”
Viktor’s eyebrows shoot up, and then he’s breaking into a subdued chuckle. “Any excuse to get your hands on me, Councilor.”
“Just Jayce,” he reminds him. “And yes.”
“Eh, alright Just Jayce,” Viktor quips. Knowing that it would take a while for him to actually call him by his name without any negative connotation attached to it.
Images of Viktor carrying their first pup comes into mind and he has to keep his face straight. As if it didn’t hurt. As if he hadn’t dreamt of that once upon a time when he was younger.
Alas, it is all wishful thinking.
He’s about to start walking again when Jayce steps closer into his bubble, grasps his chin so Viktor is forced to look into those olive colored eyes that had been robbing him of oxygen all day. Just like that, he forgets that they were out in public and that Jayce’s actions were meant to be calculating.
Intimate.
So very intimate—the way Jayce’s eyes are drawing lines all over his face as if trying to etch a sketch and commit it to memory. The alpha tucks a loose strand of hair behind Viktor’s ear.
Gods, why was his heart fluttering like that?
“I dreamt of us last night,” he whispers. “These honey eyes looking at me right now…” he pauses, breathes out a sentimental laugh. “I want that.”
“Yes?”
Hypnotized. Viktor is enthralled by Jayce. His smell. His breath, his lips. The way the male is drinking him in as if he’s the finest wine in existence.
“We were on this beautiful field suspended in time and space itself,” Jayce continues.
Viktor is suddenly very still—the stillness a storm brings before striking. The air was thick and cackling with their sudden closeness.
Viktor swallows, loud. For there was that calmness in the air at that moment but…
But when would the storm hit?
Viktor nervously chuckles, echoing the words of the alternate version of himself, “our souls are entwined.”
The flicker of recognition on Jayce’s face has Viktor’s heart beating hard, drums in the crevice of his ribs, stomach doing somersaults. It was only the two of them at that moment. The people bustling about were a blur in the background of his mind.
“To infinity’s end, darling,” Jayce echoes back. The pad of his thumb rubbing soothing motions on his sharp cheekbone.
“Tell me, Jayce, do you believe in coincidences?”
“Not one bit, Mr. Talis,” Jayce whispers, tone low and wanting.
The air is heavy with the electric pull between them.
Tugging them closer. His heart was beating louder than words ever could. Their eyes locked in a silent promise, soft and searching. His lips part in a silent invitation.
Janna, when did their faces get this close?
Viktor wants to blame it on his instincts. On the way it is screaming to rekindle their bond.
Deep down, he knows that’s not the case. On a screwed up level and at that very moment, he did not care about what Jayce did to him. He only cared about what a real kiss from the Alpha would taste like. Would feel like.
So he does.
Allowing himself to be pulled into Jayce’s crushing orbit.
Willingly.
Two doomed stars colliding.
Long fingers grasp strands of messy, unkempt hair and he tries to pull the alpha down but Jayce is light years ahead of him.
Their lips meet.
Soft and sweet and electric and everything Viktor wasn’t expecting it to be but more.
So much more.
He pulls away, tenderness pulling on his lips. Like a teenager receiving their first kiss.
A sigh from Jayce later and Viktor is turning his head to give him a proper kiss, not just a press.
Then he stops, suddenly becoming all too aware of just where they were.
Of course. How had he not noticed it before?
Right across from the sweets shop is a printing press shop. He had been distracted by the man who knew how to act all too well.
Piltover Times shone bright on the sign hanging above the door.
The words hit him like a punch to the gut, knocking the breath out of him.
He searches Jayce’s face, his world spinning. Lightheaded. Lacking oxygen.
“Vik?” Jayce asks, worried. “Are you alright?”
He isn’t.
But Viktor knows better.
So he nods.
Ah, he was so naive.
So fucking naive. This whole situation was disheartening.
He could feel the way the pieces of his heart were twisting in on themselves. Ripping him to shreds from the inside out. He forgot it was all pretend.
“You played your part so well, Jayce,” Viktor says, disillusioned. “I nearly believed you. Apologies, I forgot myself.”
Maybe the man did have that dream, but to use it at a time like this? Jayce knew how to make Viktor feel vulnerable, how to make him put his guard down.
He takes in a slow, steadying breath, pats the alpha’s chest to ground himself from the sudden storm in his already broken heart.
Viktor glances around him, notices a few curious eyes staring their way.
When he smiles, it is like the one Jayce gives the masses.
Notes:
Ah, Jayce. Did he know that was there?! Smh. My guy keeps fucking up.
Chapter 6: Never Too Late
Summary:
Another dinner.
They fulfill their duties.
A flicker of something.
Chapter Text
The carriage ride back to the Talis estate had been eerily quiet. The air filled with the afternoon’s happenings. The kiss had been good. Too good. Jayce had not said a word, but the scowl on his face had come back. A child denied of his treats.
As expected.
Viktor had played the part of the spouse in love well. So well that he forgot they were pretending towards the end. Astonishing how quickly his guard went down when he was under the impression that Jayce was being genuine.
To be frank, he should’ve known better.
Now he sits across the dining room table. It’s polished wood reflecting the light from the chandelier above. Jayce is beside him at the head of the table. The seat across from him empty. It’s upholstered patterned fabric with all its delicate swirls and flowers being thoroughly studied by Viktor as it awaited to be filled by Ximena.
Sky stood behind them, close to the double doors that lead to the kitchen. He had cooked the supper as expected. The smell of tumeric, coconut milk, and all the spices the dish called for cling to him like the somber mood from earlier. The dish waiting to be served along with the salad and a sweet bread he made as a dessert.
The sun was beginning to set in the horizon, bathing the landscape in the dark hues of the night. The chandelier’s lights casting a warm glow over their silhouettes.
“Do you want to talk about what happened?” Jayce asks beside him.
“There is nothing to talk about,” Viktor responds.
“Vik,” Jayce sighs, going to grab Viktor’s hand laying on the table, but the omega is quick to pull it away. “Let’s sit down and talk. Like the two adults I know we can be. I honestly just got carried away by you.”
“If a mature conversation is what you desired, then perchance the dinner you deprived me of your company in would’ve been in your best interest.”
Sky takes in a breath behind him and Jayce’s face reddens over the tan of his skin. Viktor’s spiteful gaze travels over his, no longer holding back any of the venom he was seething with. A piston breaking.
“There was an emergency I had to attend to. I have been trying to speak to you but you do not give me a chance. You’re insufferable.”
Viktor grabs the wine glass in front of him, usually delicate fingers turned rough on its slender neck.
“Councilor Talis,” Viktor says, careful and calculating, reflecting the chaotic prose of his mind and heart. “There is only duty to uphold between the both of us.” And then, because he feels petty and knows how to press the alpha’s buttons by now, “with that being said, I expect you in my chamber sometime in the coming days to help warm my bed.” The words are out—words Jayce once used against him—hanging heavy in the air and adding to the already tense atmosphere between the both of them.
His words leave Jayce stunned silent. Slowly, the alpha’s countenance begins to shift into something more tense, more threatening. Rough hands balling into tight fists. The fiery scent burning hot with anger.
Just then, Ximena walks in and takes the seat across from him, wearing an elegant blue and white dress. Hair in a tight bun. Beaming towards Viktor, “you finally grace us with your presence!”
He hears the double doors swinging behind him, signaling that Sky had left to instruct the rest of the staff to start serving the food.
“I could not say no to my dear husband,” Viktor says, smile now truly matching Jayce’s public one.
Ximena shifts on her seat, noticing the sour scent he was emitting and the smoky fire from Jayce.
“It really would help if you both just talked about your differences,” she comments.
Jayce and Viktor both simultaneously sigh.
They sit in silence for what seems like hours when in reality it’s just a few tense minutes that stretch uncomfortably long.
One of the servants comes out to serve the salad first. An easy arrangement of lettuce, cherry tomatoes, and onions with an olive dressing. Simple, just to prepare the palate.
Viktor is stabbing at the greens in front of him the same way Ximena had during their last brunch together. His teeth snapping over the fork a little too hard, scraping against it in a way that is both unpleasant for himself and anyone around him. Nails on a chalkboard. He makes sure to stuff himself enough to keep from making petty comments. Time was stretching, a reflection of the inner turmoil within him coming alive.
Jayce, in all his practiced poise, is very much doing the same.
Ximena takes small bites, examining the both of them with those wise eyes of hers that has Viktor feeling like she can see into his soul.
Once the second course comes, the savory aroma of the dish was permeating the room. A sauce made of blended veggies with coriander, turmeric, and a plethora of other spices with coconut milk clinging heavily to the chicken over a bed of rice. Jayce is the first to take a bite and when he does, his chewing slows down with a questioning look on his face.
Viktor watches from the corner of his eyes as Ximena does the same. A brief moment of insecurity in his already cramped mind, the grip on his fork tightens…
And then Jayce is moaning.
Actually moaning and digging back into it.
Viktor doesn’t quite know how to feel about that but a reluctant warmth blooms in his chest. It’s a clear sign the alpha likes it. His instincts are purring in delight, proud that the sustenance he prepared was good enough for his mate as well as his mate’s mother, it seems, because Ximena is doing the same.
“Goodness, Viktor. This is delicious!” Ximena exclaims and for the first time since sitting down, he begins to relax.
“My father Vander taught me the recipe,” he responds. “I am glad you like it, Ximena.”
“Like it?! I love it, honey. It’s so good!”
Viktor’s smile is bashful. He wasn’t expecting the reaction.
“I think it’s safe to say it’s almost as good as ma’s cooking,” Jayce compliments.
Viktor tries to ignore it, though a small part of him feels proud at that comment.
“I wouldn’t blame you if you left him, you know,” Ximena jokes, taking another bite. The words send a chill down his back.
Both Viktor and Jayce choke on the bite that had been halfway down their throat. Viktor pats his chest, coughing. Jayce mimicking the motions. Their eyes watering as Ximena gives them a curious look.
It honestly wasn’t the first time he’s thought about it. Jayce even brought up a possibility of both of them running away earlier that day.
“Jayce would hunt me to the world’s end,” says Viktor in that tight tone that sets Jayce on edge.
“In a heartbeat, darling,” Jayce says right back. Meant to make the air less constricted, but only serving to make Viktor move his food around on the plate with his fork as he curls back in on himself.
“Viktor, you could always just talk to me, honey. Jayce is my son, but I feel like you’re distancing yourself,” Ximena says, sympathetic eyes on him. “You are the one that was removed from your family and home. I cannot imagine how isolated you must feel.”
Viktor frowns, a hairline fracture appearing on his guarded front. His tongue wants to be as loose as the thoughts in his head. Deference and fear of disappointment keep it glued to the roof of his mouth for a few moments. Taking another bite of his food, Ximena keeps his eyes fixated on Viktor with a quiet patience that holds none of the usual expectation the rest of the world has of him.
He glances at Jayce, who opted to keep nibbling on his food and pretended like he had not heard anything, but his ears perk up when Viktor speaks.
“Eh, I am not used to playing politics. It is rather draining .”
“It is hard to establish something concrete when the weight of expectation presses down on you,” She responds.
“Indeed,” Viktor responds with a small nod. “It is made even more challenging when both sides of a situation do not see eye to eye.”
Jayce stills mid bite, openly glaring at Viktor now. Their eyes never stray from one another except to take a bite of their food. Once again the silence is deafening between the two as the abyss begins to stretch.
“Perhaps talking to Caitl—“
“Mother, you cannot be suggesting such a silly noti—“
“—I am sure Viktor would not mind getting a close friend’s opinion,” Ximena continues.
“My dear husband is great at portraying his lofty, opulent image to the crowds, yet fails to properly give voice to his thoughts in an eloquent manner behind closed doors,” Viktor interrupts Jayce. Lips curling into something akin to a smile, but not gentle at all. “So no, I would not be opposed.”
Jayce sighs, dropping the fork on his nearly empty plate with a soft clink made loud in the silence of the room, “if eloquence is what you seek, darling, then maybe you need to put your feelings aside and be willing to lend an ear every now and then.”
The shrieking sound of the chair on the floorboard as Jayce pushes away from the table makes him wince. Jayce wipes the corner of his lips with the dark red napkin that had been on his lap and throws it on the table.
The tense silence lingers long after the man leaves.
Viktor takes in a shuddering breath. Ximena’s gaze is gentle, understanding.
“I am in no means trying to defend him, but sit down. Have a talk,” she says, voice soft and filled with affection that Viktor cannot be mad at. She was trying to remain impartial, he understood this.
Sighing, the heaviness of the past few months begins to truly settle on him. A droop on his shoulders and eyes that had never been there before becomes magnified. He was caged to this life and had made a promise to himself to make the best of it, to not get a crappy ending, yet here he was.
Being difficult, as Jayce had said earlier that morning.
Taking a bite from his now bland food, he sits there with his thoughts. Forming a proper response in his head.
“His words often contradict his actions. I am not above benevolence, but this is… strange territory to travel. Uncharted waters,” his voice drops to a whisper. “It is not the life I imagined for myself.”
“It is also not the life Jayce imagined for himself. Now, you two have not let me know what happened to turn the relationship so sour—ah, I know what you’re about to say, it is not my business. I know this. You know this. Jayce knows this,” she responds, concern etched into her tone. “But cariño, you both have to speak eventually. That doesn’t excuse him standing you up like that. And yes, of course I know. I am just waiting on you to open up.”
He winces. Viktor would definitely have not said it that way, he would have been more gentle about it, but a small sad smile lifts the corners of his lips. Ximena was safe. “Continuing to remain here is slowly undoing me. I am uncertain when Jayce is being himself or when he’s the puppet the Council demands him to be. I…” he trails off. The fork on his plate long forgotten. Jayce’s chair hauntingly empty, crooked. His napkin haphazardly strewn on top of the plate. Whiplash, emotions from that lonely night where the alpha stood him up tethering to his sinking heart. A cruel melody he wishes to get out of his head but sticking to him regardless like coffee in his breath, unpleasant.
“He’s both,” Ximena comments, forlorn. “He didn’t use to be like this. I wish you two would’ve met under different circumstances. I truly believe you’re a good match. I can see it in the way he looks and talks about you.” She winks, air shifting to something sweeter.
Viktor looks away, not wanting her to see the resignation in his eyes that rolls into him in waves, like a rainy night fog being illuminated by street lamps.
They finish dinner in silence. The sweet bread with glazed honey and candied nuts he made would be good for another time. Ximena hugs him good night. A mother’s embrace, nurturing and reassuring in the silent ways that he dares not to give voice to.
That night, and the few that followed that week, he repeated these actions over and over again until the evenings with Jayce and Ximena were starting to feel more pleasant, less like pulling teeth.
ʚஐɞ
Viktor sits on the edge of the bed. Waiting. Knowing what was coming. It had been a couple days since that dinner. Jayce had mentioned he’d be by tonight before bed.
Without fail, and without bothering to knock, Jayce enters the room. In that green robe that makes the green of his eyes pop. Viktor stares at Jayce, eyes sharp with the knowledge that once again this is nothing but them fulfilling the terms of the treaty.
“Undress,” Jayce says, already undoing the knot of his robe. Letting it fall open and onto the ground without grace. The hard muscles on full display, dimly lit by the flickering embers in the fireplace.
The bedsheets crumple under the tight hold Viktor subjects it to.
A long inhale, exhale of breath later and he, too, mimics Jayce’s actions. No further words are exchanged. Viktor doesn’t glance Jayce’s way at all for the time being. The robe slips off his shoulders, pools around his waist. His milky skin lit by the hushed lighting in the room.
The hollowness in his chest is hard to ignore as he slides back near the headboard and sinks back onto the sheets. His legs part open. Mechanical movements and steadying breaths. Exposing himself to the expecting alpha.
Jayce wastes no time.
He clambers onto the bed. Viktor is staring off into the fireplace, a silent reluctance to accept. Its embers alive and crackling, Jayce grasping his legs, moving his hands over his body unceremoniously. The warmth of his rough hands it’s hard not to react to, but he wills his rapidly beating heart to slow down.
Viktor feels it, the way the alpha is sinking into it.
But Viktor isn’t.
Not fully, at least. There’s a tightness in his chest he can’t shake off. A can of worms he’s not willing to open.
A part of him regrets telling him to come. He should’ve stayed quiet. Should’ve never said anything to provoke him. But here they were.
Jayce tugs at it, bringing it to a heavy firmness. This time there’s no going down on him. No coaxing the slick out to make the process easier. Instead, Jayce leans back on his heels and lets a long trail of spit go down to Viktor’s opening. The saliva is cool as it reaches its destination. Viktor’s cheeks heat up at the lewdness of it all. Jayce is repeating the process on his member, spreading it with his hand over the tip.
He’s watching it all play out from the corner of his eyes, still refusing to fully look at him. Still quiet.
Jayce rubs his head against Viktor’s opening then. Rubbing the saliva over his dry folds. Pressuring the clit, making his legs open wider. His eyes fixate on the fireplace again, guarded, trying not to give away any emotion as he maintains a poker face.
And then Jayce is breaking into him. It burns at first, his body not used to the girth of the alpha without proper lubrication. He fists the bedsheets. A slight pull of his brows in pain. Not worst than the pain his body was used to, but enough to make him flinch the slightest bit.
Once sheathed halfway in, Jayce takes a hold of the back of both his legs, being surprisingly gentle with his bad one, and pushes them towards his chest.
“Look,” Jayce breathlessly says, spreading his thighs apart a little further. “Isn’t this lovely?”
No answer.
Viktor’s jaw tightens further in defiance, wishing the man would just get it over with, but his body is already reacting unwillingly. His omega wanting to be full of the man above him.
“I’m not moving until you look,” Jayce stubbornly says.
Damn it.
Why was he making it harder than it needed to be?
Wanting to be quick about it, Viktor does look as he leans on his elbows.
And when he does, the throb that makes his core pulse around Jayce’s rock hard member comes with an instant wave of arousal slipping out.
Fuck.
The long, thick cock of the alpha is impaled halfway through and it looks so at home there. Lips and cunt stretched out to accommodate the alpha’s meaty girth.
“That’s right,” Jayce breathes, and begins to slowly slide back and forth to spread the omega’s slick and make it easier to bear.
Jayce truly did that to prove a point. To prove that Viktor’s body was indeed responsive to him.
“Did you like it?” Jayce asks, thrusting into him anew. Not hard, not fast, just enough to make Viktor’s breathing shallow.
Oh, he’s a talker when he has a full view.
Viktor wanted to indulge, ask what exactly he was referring to, but he was abstaining.
“When Seraphine touched you, did you like it?” He clarifies, still breathless.
Viktor blushes at the memory. Rolls his eyes, both in annoyance and pleasure when Jayce rubs against a spot inside of him just right.
Did he truly not feel the emotions the same way Viktor did?
Their eyes lock, heavy and tense. Neither of them backing off from the staring contest as Jayce keeps pumping into him.
“I felt it, you know—you’re so fucking tight baby,” he moans. Any semblance of control is lost as his cock is swallowed whole by Viktor. “You like—you like knowing I’m attracted to you.”
Viktor’s mouth parts in a silent gasp.
“You like knowing I want - you - all - to - my - self” each word is punctuated with a rough thrust into him that almost, almost made him whimper in pleasure. He had to bite his tongue. Tasted copper.
And yes, yes he did.
Was that so bad? To know that such a smart and handsome, albeit cruel and calculating, man was attracted to him?
The way those eyes wouldn’t leave his body except to make sure Seraphine was actually doing her job drove him crazy. The memory has a fresh wave of slick oozing out and Jayce starts smirking at him knowingly. His legs began to tremble from the sensation building within. His core beginning to convulse around him.
“You like this? I can feel how wet you’re getting. So good for me, darling.” He throws his hips fully into it then, thrusting at that rhythm that had Viktor’s mind going blank with bliss. The sweet heat making his nerve endings tingle.
Their eyes never wavering. Never breaking away. His gasps becoming more erratic. More manic, more breathy, more like moans that he couldn’t suppress. That little frown that formed on the valley of his forehead told Jayce everything it needed to. He could feel the way Jayce was beginning to falter whenever he clenched around him. So he clenched tighter.
“Harder,” Viktor says because he knows Jayce can fuck harder than that. Fuck, not make love. And he knows Jayce is close to losing it. “I don’t—“ he gulps “—feel anything.”
Jayce’s tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek as a coy smile appears on his lips, knowing that’s a full on lie. “Fine,” he says, doing exactly what Viktor asks.
And when he does, Viktor’s walls are clenching around him greedily, bringing Viktor over the edge. He throws his head back as the orgasm hits him, stomach tensing. Squeezing the life essence from Jayce because that’s all it took for the alpha to be crashing right there with him, blowing his load and knot right into Viktor. Locking them in place for however long it takes for Jayce to come down from his high.
Their breathing is rapid, uncontrolled, and Jayce is falling forward, languid, clutching Viktor to him by snaking his arms under his back and holding him close.
Before he can properly register what is going on, the alpha is pressing their lips together in a heated kiss. Tongue wet and warm against his as Viktor opens his mouth in surprise. Viktor shouldn’t indulge.
No.
He shouldn’t.
So why are his lips moving like that? Allowing that tongue to trace his. A heated caress that has him losing his mind—
Wait. No.
Viktor is quick to turn his head.
“No kissing,” he snaps.
“Is this my punishment for what I did the other day?” Jayce asks, a deep sigh escaping Viktor as those lips move to trace the outline of his jaw. Beard prickling his sensitive skin. Jayce thrust his hips into him some more, as if they weren’t already fully connected. As if he wanted to make a home there. And Viktor clutches his arms. Sensitive.
“It is your own rule,” Viktor coldly reminds him.
“It was a dumb rule. I abolish it,” Jayce responds, nuzzling into his neck a little too affectionately. “Please? Just one.”
“No. You lost that privilege when you decided to take advantage of my vulnerability. I do not wish to continue this unproductive conversation. It only leads to behavior that we fail to control. It feels forced.”
“How does it feel forced?” Jayce asks, pulling back to stare at him.
“You are inside of me, my dear husband. It makes me think you say things without thoroughly thinking about it,” Viktor comments.
Jayce groans, “I do think about it. All my decisions are well thought out.”
Viktor was already beginning to be over this conversation. “You didn’t think when you left me sitting there at the terrace. Or when you met with Mel in the maze. I still do not fully believe you two didn’t have something going. Did you even think how that would look?”
Jayce sighs, exasperated, “I thought—“
“Just stop. I’m not interested,” Viktor interrupts. Their physical connection finally, finally coming undone. Viktor starts pulling away, pushing at the hard chest on top of him, but Jayce is a boulder. Stubborn and unmoving.
Then there’s a shift.
Jayce’s brows furrow in worry, “so that’s it? You’re done?”
“Right now? Yes. Now move,” Viktor’s sharp eyes stare up at him with a quiet challenge, asking what he’s going to do about it.
Jayce’s face comes close to his, breath ghosting over his lips as his features soften. “Wouldn’t it be easier to just run away, V? Screw everything else. You and I—we never asked for this. We are pawns to them. I rather be free with you than be caged against our wills.”
“Not as you are this moment, Jayce. It is much too confounding,” Viktor responds, averting his gaze from that intense gaze that was slowly unraveling him around the edges. He was dithering.
Jayce presses his forehead against Viktor’s. A small nod later and he’s getting off the bed, defeated. Tanned fingers work the closure of his robe, moving at a slow pace. Viktor wraps himself up in the blankets, as if trying to keep what’s left of his dignity alive. The male’s form is withered, shoulders hunched over.
Viktor’s gaze followed him. The room thick with the weight of the ruins neither of them knew how to reconstruct. Hanging uselessly in the air—shadows stretched across the walls, ghosts of past discussions and events that haunted them.
Yet…
Yet in it something flickered. It had Viktor floundering in the emotions it left. It hurt to feel it. It hurt because that something asked for blind faith after it all had been broken, shattered to dust.
It made him grip the edge of the bedsheets. His voice is small and fragile, “why now?”
Jayce stills by the doorway, hand tightening on the knob. His voice is strained, “I-I know I fucked up. I was scared. The implications of everything so grand, and I know, I know, it is no excuse to have been so cold towards you at the beginning.” He turns, a raw vulnerability on his features. “Can we please hit restart?”
There it was. That tug of light in his chest becomes incessant. Not enough to wipe out the darkness, but enough to light a way. He knew it wouldn’t be that easy. It ached, but Viktor wanted to chase it.
“Okay.”
Notes:
Don’t worry, guys. He’s NOT going to make it easy on him. *Insert evil laugh meme*
Also, I have caved in and made a tumblr. Will link it HERE
Also, my twitter (or X, whatever) is @SensualLettuce_
In case y’all wanna interact or recommend fics/writing prompts.
Thank you <3
Chapter 7: Obsesión
Summary:
The Council has a meeting with Zaun’s leaders to discuss, yet again, their independence.
They come to an agreement.
Jayce meets the prettiest omega he’s ever seen.
An amendment is made.
Notes:
Obsesión by Aventura. Gotta bring in some of that Hispanic root
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Sitting there by the round table, perched high in the Council’s meeting room, Jayce’s eyes scanned the others idly sitting by while Silco spoke of independence and prices that had to be paid since the fermentation of their cities. Vander was sat right there beside him. An Omega, but imposing and commandeering attention effortlessly. To be expected from Zaun’s best.
Quite frankly, Jayce was stultified with the whole ordeal. So often they went back and forth, teetered on the edge of a possible solution, only for one side to back out and have it all begin anew. So, Jayce sat back, elbow on the arm rest of his chair, temple resting on his index finger. Mel beside him, seemingly poised but utterly absorbed in every word the Zaunites were spewing. Always one to be soft to Zaun’s cause. She had always been a philanthropist of sorts. Politicking came naturally to her, too. Using both those traits together was a mastery of its own, and she did it well.
“That’s great and all, what you’re offering, but how can we be assured that there will be no retaliation later on?” Hoskel asks across the table, grubby hands resting on his gorged belly. The buttons of his suit pulled taut, almost to their breaking point.
Pathetic, really, how he was a councilor and didn’t present as one. He’s the epitome of greed in all senses of the word.
“A thirty percent share from the mines, paired with sustained access to our resources—resources that remain foundational to Piltover’s continued advancement—should be more than reasonable. After all, progress tends to falter when its life source is withheld,” Silco responds, the quiet veiled threat hanging heavy in the air, his eyes landing on Jayce briefly at the mention of progress.
“Enough bloodshed has happened between the two cities for our lifetime, our grandchildren’s lifetime, and then some,” Vander’s booming voice comes from besides the alpha. Face forlorn, as if lost in a memory. “This is agreeable for both sides.”
“We know how big Piltover is on control. The neglect of the Undercity, however, is an egregious loss of it from your end,” Silco says, serious and determined.
“So you gain your independence. Zaun and Piltover become two distinct entities, then what? Surely you understand that navigating the complexities of such transition will prove to be difficult. It will be anything but simple,” Mel says beside Jayce. Not in challenge, per se, but in curiosity. Already envisioning the uncertain future, yet willing to course through the murky waters, if Jayce were to guess.
Vander’s broad shoulders tense the smallest bit, eyes steadily meeting Mel’s, “you want an assurance that Zaun will not retaliate for all the wrongdoings Piltover has released onto it.”
Salo speaks, “surely, you’re aware that the vote needs to be unanimous. I am certain you would also want assurance that we won’t descend on you with our enforcers.”
Kassandra hums besides Salo, “it is easy on paper. How will the masses react?”
Heimerdinger, who had been quiet, perks up at the head of the table. His poro snuggling up to him as he speaks, “ah, such a tense atmosphere. Zaun should have been freed long ago. Greed kept it attached to Piltover.”
Bolbok scoffs, “they’re untamable. You surely cannot be suggesting we let them go just because.”
Shoola tsks, being the sounder of the bunch, “Heimerdinger is not wrong. Neither are Silco and Vander here. It is brave of them to stand here before us and plead their case after being shut down countless times. We have lost touch. They may not be our favorite constituents, but they are still our people and we have continuously wronged them.”
“So what? Relinquish control?” Salo’s brows and mouth are downturned, displeased in a petty pout.
A petulant fucking child not wanting to share his favorite toy.
Yes, truly pathetic—Hoskel and Salo. The duo reeked of the type of opulent, entitled power Jayce loathed.
Jayce sighs, growing tired of this back and forth already, “for being the City of Progress, Piltover sure has some backwards thinking. It needs to stop being stuck in its ways.”
Mel keenly stares at him from the corner of her eyes, perfectly sculpted brow lifted. “I am not opposed to Zaun seceding from Piltover.”
“Absolutely not!” Salo rises to his feet, hands slamming on the table with a thud, his scent coming off in uncontrolled waves.
Jayce inwardly rolls his eyes. Waiting, analyzing. Calculating the many ways this could go wrong.
Hoskel’s face reddens, “we need assurance.”
Silco and Vander remained quiet while the Council discussed amongst themselves. For this was something that had been on the works for quite some time now. Every word needed to be considered, for each one carried with it a heaviness—the potential to have Zaun become an independent city state.
Bolbok whirled and hissed to life as he turned towards the other Council members, his mechanical voice filling the room, “your species are free to breed. Perhaps results would be yielded if we looked into a partnership of sorts.”
“Ah, yes, Councilor Bolbok!” Salo responds, piggy backing off the idea that had been spoken into existence. He turns towards the Zaunites. “It is to my understanding that you have three offsprings,” Salo muses, hanging on to that thread with bared fangs.
Hoskel rubs at his beard, becoming pleased with the idea, “yes, yes. Perhaps a mating of sorts?”
Silco’s jaw tightens as he bites out coldly, “a mating? Perhaps Piltover is more prone to pre-modern diplomacy than expected. Maybe progress doesn’t hold as much sway as tradition.”
It is Heimerdinger’s turn to have his bushy brows furrow, “we were once a united clan—“
Salo interrupts, “pardon, Council Head, but this is plenty of assurance. We cannot let them go without any guarantee.”
“A colateral?” Shoola scoffs, almost indignant at the thought. Yet, as she begins mauling it over, her features become more convinced at the possibilities. “What is to say it won’t crumble before it even begins?”
Bolbok speaks to Mel first then to Silco and Vander, “Councilor Medarda is the best match in this room. To our knowledge, you two have an older son. An omega.”
Salo nods, “an exchange must be made.”
“Our son is not a means to an end,” Silco snaps. The first chink in the alpha’s armor. That has Jayce taking interest. The alpha male was always so composed. Now Silco’s scent was growing muted as he started to lose control of it. “There must be another way.”
Vander’s hands roll into fists, eyes landing briefly on Jayce’s bored stare before moving to the rest of them, “is this being seriously considered?”
It is Jayce who responds, cool and collected, “Mel is a good match. Wealthy, beautiful, killer instincts, and very protective of her own.”
It didn’t sound like a bad idea, to be frank. Both sides needed a levy of sorts to ensure that everything remained equal, tamed. This was the reality of coming to a consensus that would appeal to both sides. Mel would not be happy, exactly, but she’d do her best to uphold Piltover’s end. All for duty. To appease the crowds. Something Jayce had already been doing, now passed on to her as well.
“We could also, say, throw in a council seat,” Mel suggested. “To ensure that Zaun’s best interest is at heart in Piltover, should they ever need our assistance.”
Jayce wants to laugh. The other council members would never go for that.
Already a few startled gasps here and there are heard around the table. The atmosphere becoming more tense. As if such an idea were egregious.
“Perhaps the Council Head’s seat,” Heimerdinger speaks, turning all heads to him, stunned. “I’ve lived a long life. Helped sow the seed that became Piltover. If an heir were to be produced, I will willingly give up my seat. Zaun must be willing to also have their leader be a byproduct of this union. Perchance the second child. To show solidarity amongst both nations.”
There were loud murmurs that erupted at that. Even Jayce sat straighter in his seat. The other Councilors were heatedly conversing amongst themselves, a momentary loud chaos in the otherwise silent room. The scales seemed to be tipping, and it was towards Zaun’s favor. Jayce and Mel’s eyes meet—a brief flash of understanding, their tongues laden with the sudden potential—before Heimerdinger speaks again.
“Now, now. I know what you all must be thinking, but I’ve lived over three hundred years. My life as of late feels stagnant. Even a Yordle as old as me needs a little bit of excitement! It is time I actually lived,” he says with a sigh that is much too heavy for someone his size, rubbing the head of his poro fondly. Very serious in the way he spoke—intrepid, even. His history painted into his tone.
Heimerdinger was perhaps the one person he respected the most for his wise mind and age.
The Zaunite duo give each other a look, a flicker of hope igniting.
The back and forth went on for a while. Going as far as throwing Jayce’s name in the mix of available, and single, council members. The way Silco and Vander kept staring at him made Jayce think they preferred him. He couldn’t blame them. He was a catch, after all.
They agreed to meet a fortnight from that day. The atmosphere they left behind was tense, shadows filled with insurmountable expectations.
It appeared that Zaun and Piltover were finally reaching the end of their tremulous relationship.
The days came and went. Eventually they all reached a consensus. Jayce and Mel were the only unmated pair. Naturally, the heaviness of the situation would fall on either one of their shoulders.
Mel was a good friend to Jayce. Close to him on the same level Caitlyn Kiramman is. The difference is the politics involved in all of it. Mel tended to be cunning in how she got what she wanted. Using her beauty and resources to get an agreeable outcome that usually favored her interests. A go getter, as they say.
Jayce wasn’t impervious to it—her beauty, that is—but she wasn’t his cup of tea. He was attracted to innocence, the uncorrupted and unexplored kind. Obsessed with tainting and exploring said innocence in order to mold it to his will.
He only became a Councilor to further his own agenda, not because he gave a damn about the petty grievances of the Piltie elites. But because he actually cared about fixing things from within.
Somewhere along the way, though, he had become just like them. Consumed by the need for more. Absorbed by the politics of it all. Overtaken by the fame it, along with his sharp mind, brought. Jayce had become a cocky bastard used to getting his way.
So, no. He was not like Mel. He had far superseded her cunning nature. Using his charisma and Piltover’s Golden Boy status to manipulate, deceive, and stir decisions to favor his cause. Doing so in a way that made people think it was their idea all along. Something that wasn’t hard to accomplish. One just had to toot a person’s horn, elevate their status in their presence, place a few key words into the conversation and voila!
Once the Council had inked the treaty to a piece of parchment, Jayce had mentioned something along the lines of beginning the treaty on good terms. Which is how he found himself walking down the Undercity’s dark streets. Talis red cloak, minus the insignia, and a theatrical fox mask covering his face. Inconspicuous, for the most part.
The air was thick through the yellow-green fog that clung to the air. Ashes in his throat as he tried to breathe in without having to go through so much as a slight cough. Mel was a few feet ahead of him. Same attire but with a wolf mask instead.
The streets were bathed in a luminescent green from the lanterns that hung onto the buildings, fog rolling in heavy making it almost hard to see, their glow barely piercing the miasma. The streets were bustling with people, their attires more or less alike. The edgy fashion of Zaunites evident in each one except for the random hunched over figure pushing a cart down the street, its wheels screeching on the concrete. Their eyes hollow and face or body disfigured, dirtied and malnourished.
Things down here were worst than he expected them to be. Jayce always prided himself in being the Man of Progress, a term coined by the Piltovians once he invented the Hexgates that adorned the city’s tallest structure.
Yet, seeing Zaun, he wondered just how much of that progress actually went into the betterment of Piltover’s lower constituency. A small and dirty pup—not the first one he’d seen—limping by with no assistance had him frowning, concern etched into his features behind the mask he wore. The contrast between Piltover and Zaun becoming even more abysmal as sickly faces, homeless people, and even more tiny and famished pups blurred by. Their shoulders carrying a weight much too grand and dark for such a young age. It had Jayce’s stomach churning and lungs threatening to collapse as he kept breathing in that stupid thick fog that reeked of pheromones and desperation. Jayce was conniving, just like any other politician, but he at least cared. To an extent, of course, but still cared, nonetheless. No one should be living like this—in this rot.
Jayce was glad for the mask on his face. For every reluctant step he took on the grimy streets made the grimace on his face grow and he made no attempts to hide his distaste.
They go down a couple more blocks, turning every which way until they reached the center of the city where a tall, gritty looking building stood. It’s all industrial, rusted metal, with a neon sign above the entrance glowing a warm ember labeled The Last Drop around a beer mug. It had a humble welcoming feel to it, as if this is where the citizens came to take a respite. The streets around this area were less chaotic, more clean. Less littered with potentially dangerous people, another thing that was a constant in other areas.
Mel pushes inside, the metal door rumbling, and Jayce traveling close behind her. Classic wooden tables give the place a rustic look. There’s two levels to it. The place is average in size, with a few patrons here and there giving them an odd stare as they walk in and head directly to the back, where Vander stood behind the bar. A pipe loosely hanging off his lips. Looking every bit of the intimidating man he was.
That’s not what catches Jayce’s eye, though.
Not at all.
There, nestled in a nearby booth in the corner by the stairs next to the bar, sits an omega. His presence was neither loud nor forced, it was effortless. The omega with the prettiest set of ember eyes he’s ever seen on anyone sat next to a pink haired female, and a blue haired girl that could not have been older than fourteen.
Jayce had an affinity with the rare and obscure things in life. The Arcane, of course, and any artifacts that held a hefty value. Whether they be forged by his calloused hands or made by other nimble fingers, it didn’t matter. He was a collector and made it a point to collect that which he found beautiful. Always took a keen liking if they had imperfections.
An unhealthy obsession had already bloomed in the depths of his twisted mind, taking a dark root in his chest as he kept shamelessly ogling at the fine specimen innocently perched there.
Those sharp cheekbones, the way those strands of hair fell prettily to frame his striking features—those lips, goodness, those pink and plush lips. His long, curved lashes casting shadows on his cheeks had Jayce salivating.
He sat there as if he didn’t know what he was—something conjured from a dream. A painting come to life. Every brush stroke deliberately placed on alabaster skin with a touch of warmth here and there. Unblemished face save for two beauty marks placed there as if on purpose, as if to augment his striking features, as if he was Janna’s favorite creation. Jayce wasn’t one to become infatuated by beauty at the mere sight of it—not on a person, at least—but there was an air of innocence surrounding the other man that he immediately wanted to corrupt and make it his own as he threw his head back and laughed at something the pink haired girl had said. The sound coming from him was like an addicting melody that had Jayce’s lips parting in anticipation, tongue snaking out to wet them as if he wanted to make the other male sing and dance on it.
Jayce wanted to hear that laugh just for him.
He watched as the slim male moved out of the booth, grabbing a cane from where it was leaning against the table with a quiet grace only attained through years of dealing with it. He walked back towards where Jayce guessed the restrooms were. A brace wrapped around his right thigh. A tight umber dress shirt hugged his lithe form in all the right places.
Gods, that small waist. Would his fingers meet if his hands wrapped around it fully?
Beautifully imperfect.
Art in motion. An androgynous being.
Yes, that had Jayce’s interest for sure. Already the machinations of his mind were working overtime, planning on how to approach the other male and make him his. To keep, to hold, to forever have or however that corny crap went.
Mel’s hand on his elbow has him coming out of his borderline creepy admiration and he almost hated her for it. Alas, they had other pressing matters to attend to but as Vander led them up the stairs and into one of the rooms where their office was, Jayce’s thoughts kept going back to the male with the pretty moles.
An old but sturdy desk sat towards the window. Silco occupying its chair, looking every bit the busy man he was. The alpha’s head snapped up at the visit. The air smelled of chemicals, alcohol, and something familiar in the undertones.
His eyes quickly scan the canvas frame on Silco’s desk and his heart stills. There, on the corner, a younger version of the male stands framed in what looks like a family portrait. Eyes blankly staring, hand on the pink haired female’s shoulder while that of the female’s was on the blue haired girl.
This was Viktor.
This was who Mel was to mate and that thought alone had him going feral, almost losing control of his scent.
Jayce removes his mask, greeting the Zaunite duo. Trying to keep his face composed.
“An unexpected visit,” Silco says, low and careful.
Mel gives a gentle shrug of her shoulders, “I am to mate your eldest son. It is only correct to pay my future family a visit, no?”
Jayce walks up to the desk, taking out the rolled up parchment paper from a satchel he was carrying on his back and handing the scroll which had been signed by the Council to Silco, who takes the paper and unwinds it carefully, albeit a little eagerly, in his hand. Jayce watches as the alpha’s serious face slowly morphs into something less so and more awe struck. Out of place for someone like him who always had to show a serious façade. Mismatched eyes widen as he nears the end.
Every second could be felt in the pregnant silence.
“I still have my reservations about giving my son away,” Silco finally says, serious yet resigned. Knowing this was for the greater good. “Specially to an outsider.”
Mel stiffens, her breath hitching slightly. Not noticeable to them, only to Jayce. Yes, Mel Medarda was an outsider. And a Noxian to boot. The Medarda name held a lot of political influence and had been there long before Piltover was formed. Mel simply came to take the seat that had been left empty after one of her family member’s tragic passing. Eager to prove herself to her mother.
Almost pathetic, really, how she still sought Ambessa’s approval after so long.
Not to worry, though.
Jayce was already working on ways to get them alone and tweak a few things. A flash of possessiveness coursing through his veins fueled by ember eyes and alabaster skin. The opportunity presented itself when she excused herself, saying something about the way here being long and having to use the lady’s room, but Jayce knew it was the comment that Silco made which had slightly unraveled her from within.
As soon as the door shut close behind her, he made a move. “Mel is a great choice,” he starts, casual.
Silco raises a thin and unimpressed brow, “there’s always a far better choice, Councilor Talis. Your ways of doing this is backwards, but I understand it is a necessity to obtain our long awaited independence. Though Councilor Medarda was the last on our list.”
Vander continues, “we fought so long for this only to have topside turn around and give us a choice disguised as freedom.”
“Mel is still great,” he simply says, pausing for dramatic effect. Letting it linger in the air. She truly was a great choice. And she would do anything and everything to keep Viktor and the tenuous relationship between Zaun and Piltover alive and well. But he wanted to see if they, too, agreed.
“But she’s not Piltover’s Golden Boy,” Silco says, almost as if reading Jayce’s thoughts, lacing his fingers together in front of him as he rests his elbows on the arm rests, sitting back on his chair. “We wanted it to be you, Councilor. The face of Piltover.”
“A decision I would not have been opposed to,” Jayce responds, eyes piquing with interest.
“We thought we’d have more time. You’re early,” Vander says, leaning against the edge of the table. Ink and cinnamon wafting in the air in waves from the both of them.
“It is not up to me to amend it. Only Zaun’s fearless leaders can do so,” Jayce shrugs, studying the men in front of him, hiding the ferocity he felt within. “We did say a fortnight, did we not?”
Silco’s gaze is sharp on him. Not enough to set him on edge but enough to let him know that he’s suspicious, “you were awfully quiet during the meeting. Only offering a few choice words. What use is it to you to take Mel’s place like that?”
“They offered up Mel and everyone agreed,” Jayce says, squaring Silco with a steady gaze. “For the sake of Zaun’s freedom, I could be accommodating.” Then, he adds some sappy bullshit he knows they’ll eat up, “since I was a pup, I only ever dreamed of having Zaun and Piltover work together towards progress. This is a cause that I hold very dear to my heart. Plus, it is harder to have cause for retaliation when I’m under the public’s eyes so often. All my moves are assessed and analyzed,” Jayce comments, the seed planted and growing. The fruits of it waiting to be plucked. It wasn’t manipulation, not really. Jayce was just giving them a choice… disguised as an illusion, yes, but still a choice, right?
Hook.
Then, with a gentle and careful cadence in his voice, “Mel is a great friend of mine. I want her to be happy. I am happy knowing both our nations are finally going to be at peace.”
Vander sighs, already convinced, “we wish nothing but the best for our son. I believe both your minds together would accomplish wonders.”
That had Jayce raising a brow. Hanging on to any new detail that he could about the omega with burning ember for eyes and two very obviously caring parents.
Not to say that the pair were easily manipulated, either. They didn’t get to be Zaun’s leaders by rolling over and baring their neck in submission. They got there by doing what had to be done and making hard decisions. This was one of those hard, but obvious, decisions.
The air was tense. Jayce was crazy for trying to do this, but those golden eyes looked so familiar. They were what his dreams were made of and he wanted those pretty irises looking up at him from between his legs—
He stops that train of thought. Not the time or place to be thinking about that. “Making a change can be as easy as crossing out whatever line you wish to alter and writing over it,” he says, examining the fox mask in his hand as if it’s got all his attention. “Amending it is a quick process after that. It is entirely up to you.”
Line.
There wasn’t much to consider after that. Of course Jayce was the more sensible choice. If they wanted to keep Viktor safe and out of harm’s way—public harm’s way—then Jayce would be the obvious path.
Mel comes back, her rose scent somewhat frayed around the edges. The wooden door creaks close, loud in the silence of the room. Jayce waits for the Zaunites to speak. Doesn’t offer up any words of his own. He knows and is overly confident they’ll do it.
It is Vander who breaks the silence, “we appreciate your time coming down here, but there’s just one amendment we’d like to make.”
Sinker.
Mel patiently waits for the information to be fed to her. Silco pulls out a fountain pen, scratches out a line on the parchment paper, writes something else atop it, and hands it back to her. The shock on her features is hard to hide but Jayce would be lying if he said he didn’t take pleasure in all of this. She had been fully prepared to take on that responsibility, to bear the weight of it all. She shifts, stares at Jayce who is just blankly staring at her as if he doesn’t know what’s going on, feigning innocence.
“I can assure you this is not personal,” Silco begins, adjusting the watch on his wrist two notches tighter and rolling up his sleeves. A tick, showing he’s nervous, obviously caring about his son’s well being. Believing Jayce was the best choice for it. How cute. “You can see how it would look if Viktor were to be hurt in any way. Being under watchful scrutiny is what we would want for him. For his safety.”
Mel frowns, the paper crinkling at the corners where she holds it, “your concerns are not unfounded, but—“
“Grant us this,” Vander interrupts. “Councilor Talis was our first and only choice for the public image he holds. Viktor has a sharp mind that needs to be challenged as well. Please,” the omega asks.
Mel nods, usually controlled poise broken at the sudden change. “What of you, Jayce?”
“A necessity for progress,” Jayce responds, very on brand for him. Mel nods, doubts most likely plaguing her mind, but she cedes. Jayce had to hold back the self satisfied smirk that threatened to take over his features.
They leave the stuffy place not long after that. Bidding farewell. As Jayce and Mel walk down the stairs, fox and wolf mask back in place, his eyes dart to that booth that held the most precious relic he’d soon get to make his.
Those honey eyes look up in curiosity and his heart skips a beat. Already robbing Jayce of precious oxygen, the same way the thick fog of Zaun was, but in the most delicious way possible that had an insatiable hunger pooling in his core.
There you are, my little darling.
Notes:
Ah. It’s time I added that dark/toxic Jayce tag. For he is sweet, but his obsessive ways do not fall shy of manipulating the narrative :) Please don’t hate me too much
I have also made socials for all the stupid brain rot i wish i could post in my regular account 🤣
Will link my tumblr HERE
Annnnddd my twitter (or X, whatever) is @SensualLettuce_
In case y’all wanna interact or recommend fics/writing prompts!
Chapter 8: Animal
Summary:
Jayce’s chaotic thoughts.
Viktor doesn’t care.
Jayce still does.
Notes:
I picture this song from Viktor’s POV and I cryyyyy.
Animal by Annie Eve
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“I wish I could get a glimpse into that head of yours. Maybe then I would understand why the dirt you step on is treated better than your own husband.”
Viktor had said those words and it had cracked open parts of Jayce he thought he had put to rest. Parts that have him analyzing everything he had done up until he admitted to Viktor he himself was scared.
The wedding day had been everything Jayce planned it to be. He hadn’t seen Viktor since that day at The Last Drop, but he would catch that lovely vanilla scent that permeated the walls of the house, as well as his soul, and it just left him wanting to do unspeakable things to Viktor. He kept reminding himself that he had to appeal to the omega. Make Viktor think that, in a way, Jayce was also being forced into this so they could bond and make him fall little by little.
That, or isolate him completely. Strip him of what he loves so that Jayce would become his only source of comfort.
He had gone to the extent of letting his facial hair grow to play the part well. It had worked, to an extent. Viktor’s face as he walked down the altar had been everything to him. No cane in sight—something that made Jayce internally frown. He had not asked anyone to take it away. Wanting everything to be perfect.
And it had been, for the most part. He had to remember to have a word with whoever it had been to take Viktor’s support away.
That defiant look on Viktor’s face had been priceless to witness, though. As Viktor let go of his dear father’s arm and took that step, he had winced. Small, minuscule, but there nonetheless.
Jayce had become an expert in body language over the years—knowing pleasure, anxiety, joy, pain—being very receptive to it since a young age. So the slight wince on Viktor’s face had him in awe. Viktor wanted to appear strong and oh Janna, did he. Jayce loved himself a fighter and Viktor was full of it and just that thought alone had him stirring in his slacks.
A flower blooming through a cracked sidewalk. Resilient, is what Viktor was and is.
Viktor’s hand in his had felt small, delicate. Jayce could tell he was nervous, so he made sure to match that to an extent. Rubbing his thumb onto that warm creamy flesh with a tenderness he never showed anyone else. Giving him a quick peck on the lips when the time came as to not intimidate him. Even if he wanted to make it longer.
The tricky part came around Mel. He kept stealing glances her way, wondering if she would ever say anything about that day when things had changed. Almost thought she would when she had walked up to their table. Jayce thought maybe she’d open that beautiful mouth of hers and stir the pot—something she’d never do, knowing the delicate situation Zaun and Piltover were in—but instead, she offered a few encouraging words and a congratulations. It was only then that he had been able to let the tension go only for it to come back a few seconds later when Viktor made that crude joke.
“Eh, rugged as he is, is how I prefer them. Better to boss around in the bedroom,” Viktor had mused, which had Jayce choking on the liquid that had been halfway down his throat and Mel’s eyes growing alarmingly wide as she clutched at the gold chain around her delicate neck.
Just who had the pleasure of being bossed around by Viktor?
That was an unsettling thought. Throughout the night he had kept making the Piltover elites uncomfortable with the show of lewd affection. Normally, it would’ve been Jayce, but he had to keep reminding himself to let Viktor lead for now. Give his pretty flower some sense of control before he plucked it away later that night.
Which he did.
He was planning on being gentle about it, knowing he was gifted in other areas, not just his mind.
The knobs that adorned Viktor’s spine were graceful in the way they blended in with his anatomy. As if they were a part of him all along, seamlessly merging into his skin and only adding to Viktor’s allure. It had Jayce salivating and his alpha beating at the tight enclosure it was usually kept in.
The omega presented beautifully, too. That arch on his back and the way his pink cunt was fluttering open should’ve been illegal with how it had Jayce wanting to murder that delicious pussy. He did taste it, too, after realizing that Viktor wasn’t quite there yet and it was everything he expected it to be and so much more. He could have spent forever in between those lovely thighs, with his tongue bathed in the sweet nectar the lovely omega secreted, but Jayce had other things to take care of and his alpha was eager to take over, to take and claim and mount. But Jayce knew he had to be careful. To be mindful.
It was going smoothly up until Viktor had opened his pretty little mouth and made Jayce succumb to his instincts. Like an untamed animal he had took and Jayce had no qualms about it.
In the moment he didn’t, anyway.
Viktor tried to crawl away a few times—how fucking cute—but Jayce had brought him right back by that tiny waist of his every time.
“Don’t run away,” he had reprimanded, and then pushed further in. Viktor’s tight sex fluttering around the alpha’s girth sinfully had Jayce’s mind blanking out and primal instincts demanding to claim. The omega’s body was begging for him even if the timbre of Viktor’s charming voice said otherwise. “Just like that. Fuck, you’re tight. Are you sure you’re not a virgin?”
Viktor shook his head and had instead said, very harshly mind him, “You wish this body remained untouched by an-ah-by an Alpha other than you.”
And well, that just didn’t sit right with Jayce, now did it?
Inane, he knew, but he made sure to dig a space inside Viktor’s cunt the shape and size of him so no one else dared to. So Viktor’s body forgot whoever the fucking hell had been in there before. Jayce made sure his hole remembered him by wringing out multiple orgasms from Viktor’s tired body.
Jayce only felt a pang of regret when he saw the blood dried up in between his mate’s thighs when he had cleaned him up—caked up along with his semen. In the depths, a sick satisfaction twirled in the pit of his stomach at the sight, knowing that Jayce had been the first to defile him but that satisfaction was accompanied by a deep sense of guilt that made Jayce wince. Remnants of his old self coming to the surface at seeing the ball Viktor was curled up in. At the sour scent that filled the room. So, he promised himself to make an attempt again and not be so, well, harsh with the omega.
The following morning had been… unfortunate. A setback to his promise, really.
He had already instructed his security detail to bring back Viktor’s cane. Jayce didn’t understand how Viktor got around like that on his bad days. The flimsy cane did not offer much support. The gears were turning in Jayce’s head, envisioning a new crutch with Talis umber, gold, and white. Much more befitting than that dull, old wooden one he walked around with. Maybe a peace offering of sorts.
Jayce had gone back to the bedroom, having been holed up in his study going over the countless barmy letters addressed to him, only to find the omega sprawled on the ground with tear shot eyes. Having obviously fallen due to the strenuous activities from the previous night that were most likely making his leg and back burn with pain. Activities that Jayce had somewhat forced onto him, yes, but that his cane and brace should’ve aided him in.
When he had asked him if he was okay, it had been out of honest concern. Yet, Viktor had been a cynical little thing and of course, of course that would only get on Jayce’s nerves and all together turn him the fuck on. There was something about that defiance and the way those ember eyes burned with a quiet challenge.
Jayce knew he was pushing it. Knew that it was unhealthy to scream at that precious little thing that only wanted comfort. But…
Fuck.
Poor Viktor still thought Mel and Jayce were a thing. That was laughable, really. If anyone knew Jayce, they’d know there’d never be something there.
Jayce wanted to see how far he could push his little darling before Viktor would truly break. Could feel himself stirring as Jayce held Viktor close. Residuals of the night before and their bond shaking him, almost, with a need that he couldn’t placate.
Yet, staring into those golden eyes and seeing the raw vulnerability there, something strange tugged in his chest. It demanded for a light in the darkness of his mind and heart and Jayce had to leave. Had to separate himself from the situation.
Suddenly, he wasn’t so sure anymore if what he was doing was the right thing. Remnants of Jayce’s old self kept floating to the forefront of his mind, memories of the past begging to be let out from the coffer he had forced them into.
Jayce made sure to have Sky, his personal servant, take care of Viktor moving forward. Not so that he could make a friend—that had been an unexpected surprise—but to keep an eye on Viktor from a distance.
He did rip a new one to Maddie, who was supposed to return Viktor’s cane after Jayce had left the bedroom the previous night. Going as far as threatening to get her dishonorably discharged from the police force if another mishap happened. Needless to say, the way her eyes had widened in shock and fear was enough to bring Jayce’s anger to a slow sizzle for the meantime.
After that, since Viktor wanted to be a little brat, he decided to go through the route of isolation. Kept telling himself that Viktor needed to learn some manners. Certainly not because he could feel himself unraveling around the omega. He had sworn off that naive part of himself after seeing firsthand what relying on, and opening up to, other people did. Specially when it came to anything having to do with Piltover’s Council.
Viktor was dangerous for Jayce. Viktor had the potential of changing him and that… well, that scared the alpha.
He had decided to weather Viktor down little by little until Viktor was a confused mess that begged for Jayce’s warmth and company.
It seemed as though it was Jayce left in a perplexing state.
Jayce’s control on his facade was hanging by a thread every time he came near him. It left him often pondering about why he was so opposed to that past version of himself—the one that truly cared, that had truly wanted to make a difference.
Truth of the matter was, Jayce was confused. As if he had fallen in a ravine with no way out. He didn’t know what he had gotten himself into. Eager to skip to the happy ending he himself had made sure to stupidly elongate. That’s why he had told Viktor that he had choices. Choices that perhaps didn’t come close to Viktor’s feet, but choices nonetheless.
Jayce had felt like a kid who had been denied of his favorite candy and that idea made him feel small. Viktor truly didn’t deserve someone as unstable as Jayce. He saw something pretty and shiny, went out of his way to make it—him—his own. Yet, Jayce kept undoubtedly making a mess of things.
The day at the maze where he had met with Mel had been inconvenient, really. Jayce had known Viktor liked to spend time outside in the garden, but never had been one to wander into the maze.
Of course he had an idea of Viktor’s day to day. He made sure to keep a close eye on him even when Viktor thought Jayce wasn’t around—he had to thank Steb and Sky for that later on.
Mel and Jayce had just finished having tea in Jayce’s office and were walking towards the center of the maze when Mel had confronted him about the new deal he had struck with Vander and Silco.
Mel had figured it out, how could she not? She was a cunning woman with a very sharp mind. The only surprise Jayce got out of that was how long it took her to bring it up.
“You told them they had a choice. Why?” She cut right through it, no beating around the bush.
“I did not exactly say they had a cho—“
“Cut the theatrics, Jayce. I know you,” Mel interjects, lips curled down.
They come to sit down on a white wooden bench under the gazebo that sits at the center.
“I saw him. I wanted him,” Jayce shrugs, a little too matter of fact, too indifferent. So he adds a little more emotion into it, mixing in some truth to sound more convincing. “Gods, Mel. You should’ve seen him through my eyes. It was as though every fibre in my being was telling me he was destined to be mine,” he takes a deep, sorrowful and shuddering breath. “I-I fear I may have messed things up, though.”
“Jayce, you could’ve come to me,” Mel says after an analytical moment, sighing. She squares him with a curious look. “How did you manage to make a mess of things?”
Jayce leans on his knees on the bench where they sit, deflated, “I didn’t give him time to adjust. Jumped the gun and became intimate too fast, tried to chase the physical aspect of things too quick.”
Mel stiffens, “you let your instincts dictate your actions.” She sounded sympathetic but then her voice became a little more harsh, “Silco and Vander entrusted their son under your care to prevent harm coming his way.”
“I know, I know. I’m an idiot,” Jayce runs a hand over his face, truly dejected. “Now I don’t know what to do to make him trust me, Mel.”
She studies his face carefully, as if gauging the genuineness of Jayce’s face. After a few beats, she hmphs. “You need to give him space.”
“What if I can’t?”
“I’m afraid you must. Regardless of what is necessary to get Viktor’s trust back, it would be deeply damaging—publicly and ethically—if it came to light that you are exploiting your own mate, someone from your inner circle,” Mel says, controlled, careful. “Even if it affects you. You must endure.”
“How can you pretend like it doesn’t affect you? Like it’s so easy to just… shut it off?” he asks, sounding irked. Wondering now how much was acting and how much was truly his emotional spiral.
“It is not about easy, Jayce. It is about necessities. About doing the right thing,” Mel’s brows furrow in concern, conviction in her voice.
“Always so logical. As if there was a flip I could switch to stop feeling things,” Jayce snaps. Now pretending. Now acting and doing a damn good job of it.
“Feeling doesn’t change reality,” Mel responds. Her voice much more calm and stoic.
“No, but pretending not to feel anything?”
“Then give voice to your conflicting thoughts, Jayce. It shouldn’t be such an arduous task.”
There’s a long pause that hangs heavy between them before Jayce speaks again.
“If things were different…” he trails off. This one was a true sentiment of his. If things were different, he would’ve properly courted the omega who had fire in his eyes.
“But they’re not. We both know that wishing doesn’t change anything, Jayce. Let us be realistic. This is for the best,” she says. Her tone sounding a little more affected now, probably because she truly believed Jayce did not know what to do.
Hah.
If only she knew how bad he actually fucked up. But she was right. Jayce needed to give Viktor space. Get him to trust Jayce and come to him on his own volition.
“You must tell him the truth,” Mel concludes.
Jayce pales, “someday. Just not today.”
Jayce was aware of all the decisions he was making. It was like playing a game of chess, the pieces had been falling right where he wanted them to up until he royally fucked it up. Of course there were major mishaps. He fucked up at the beginning, on their wedding night. What could he say? He couldn’t help himself when the idea of someone else touching what was his took over. Ever the collected politician but still vulnerable to his damn alpha instincts.
Then he fucked up again on the date night his mother had set up. Abandoning Viktor that night hadn’t been his choice at all. He had been at the forge when an urgent message came for him. The Hexgate was malfunctioning so his attendance was necessary and urgent to help fix it. Duty mandated he be there, so he had been. He had left a message with Maddie, was counting on it to be delivered right away.
Yet, it never reached Viktor’s ears, nor his mother’s in time. Needless to say, Maddie was not seen at the Talis Estate nor at the Piltover Force after that. He made sure that she didn’t get a decent job anywhere in Piltover, too. That had not been the first time Jayce had sunk someone’s career like that.
It certainly wouldn’t be the last, either.
What he truly wasn’t counting on was Viktor moving back to the other end of the estate. That had made him internally scream and he may or may have not knocked a few things over in the process. He fucked up on that one, he knew. So he tried a little harder to be gentle and sweet, what Viktor expected him to be and how he was planning on being all along if only the omega wasn’t such a bratty being. That attitude was unpredictable and it went well with Jayce’s constant need to control because boy, oh boy, did he want to control that pretty mouth of his by stuffing his cock so far down his throat that tears came out of those pretty eyes.
Once again, he tried to keep his instincts and dick under wraps. Knowing that would only make the situation worst. Not that he wasn’t tempted.
Janna, had he been tempted and tested. Thoroughly failing test after test that was thrust into his path.
The bathhouse—just the thought of how Viktor had been pleasuring himself to the thought of Jayce. The way he had breathily called out his name without knowing that Jayce was right there, watching in the shadows until he found himself getting undressed and unceremoniously joining his mate.
The way Jayce’s name and those tantalizing moans had fallen from those soft, pink lips was enough to have Jayce aching with desire. The sweet slick of his omega is forever encoded on his tongue, remnants of it never failing to leave a phantom taste on it. The way Viktor had writhed and danced on the tip of it ingrained into his hippocampus like the finest memory he could ever recall.
Jayce always fucked up, though, didn’t he?
Instead of coming completely clean in that moment—
I wish I could get a glimpse into that head of yours.
—Jayce shakes his head at that memory. Viktor was truly broken. Instead of being the cohesive glue that held them together, Jayce had failed and let their entwined strings come close to snapping from the tension.
Viktor could sense it. Jayce wasn’t oblivious. He could tell Viktor knew that Jayce wasn’t being completely transparent with him. It was as though Jayce’s mirage he had built over the years meant nothing to Viktor nor did it do anything to assuage their situation.
It’d be an insult to Viktor’s intelligence if Jayce thought it’d be that easy. Viktor could see through the cracks and mimic Jayce’s aloofness and derision tenfold. Had seen it first hand when their first genuine kiss had been tainted by Jayce’s distracted mind.
Jayce was a mess.
The understatement of the century.
The dream hadn’t been a lie. It only exacerbated that dark need to have him, if anything, but pushed him to be more present with Viktor.
The Piltover Times bit had been an utter accident. Jayce truly became enraptured in those ember eyes. Losing him was not in his cards, though. Running away and keeping him hidden from the rest of the world and its cruel deceit was becoming more appealing to him every day—ironic, considering how he had twisted and manipulated their paths to merge.
Regardless of all that, Jayce wanted to see Viktor happy…
To do that he needed to stop mismanaging the situation and actually show him he’d be there for him. If that meant that he had to go back to how he was before, prior to the politics of it all that took that part away from Jayce, then so be it.
Lately, he had been taking a notice and a bit of pleasure in seeing those puffy eyes stare at him as if Viktor was unsure. As if he were second guessing his feelings towards Jayce. As if Jayce was becoming his life raft little by little. A rock in a river being eroded away by Jayce’s current. Slowly being displaced in the waterbed where it lays to be carried away towards its inevitable destination: Jayce.
So, when Jayce had bared some of himself to Viktor, the quiet and timid “okay” that dropped from those pretty lips had been everything to him.
So there it was: a second chance.
Another opportunity to make things better. To make sure that Viktor was cared for properly and not afraid. Jayce knew—gods, did he know—that he couldn’t fuck it up. Not again.
So, with a lightness in his heart, he had turned around immediately and went back to bed with him. To gently bring him into his strong arms and entwine their legs together from behind. In a way that had his nose pressed up against those beautiful brown tresses he loved.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he had whispered into his ear repeatedly. A soft caress in the night. “I promise I won’t drop the ball again.”
Instinctually, Jayce had laid a large hand against Viktor’s flat stomach, holding the would-be swell of their future pup’s home. Already imagining a life with him that wouldn’t be torn away by the deceit Jayce himself had begun. A truth Jayce would eventually need to come clean about. Perhaps in the future, when Viktor was too deep in it to care too much about.
Viktor had remained quiet for a few minutes too long. His body rigid and breathing slightly uneven. Jayce understood this is how it was going to be. Viktor wouldn’t just simply open up to him. Jayce had to work for it.
“Seraphine brought the clothes for next week’s gathering,” Jayce comments, pressing his lips to Viktor’s temple. “I had her do every color available so that you wouldn’t have to worry about choosing.”
“Ah, here I thought I’d be wearing Talis colors for the rest of my life,” Viktor had dryly joked.
To which Jayce’s hold on his stomach had faltered, if only slightly, before firmly holding on once more whilst scenting every inch of Viktor he could. Viktor’s pleased hum not going amiss.
“No, you wouldn’t be.” A brief and uncomfortable pause before he continues, “I—I understand, V, why you would feel that way. I fucked up.”
Viktor shifts to take a gander at Jayce. A brow lifted with eyes squinting in suspicion, “my, my. Who are you and what have you done with my dear husband?”
The smile playing on Viktor’s lips has Jayce’s breath hitching. Jayce’s brows furrow as he stares at Viktor with the reverence he should’ve shown from the beginning. The hope in those golden eyes shines brighter than a lighthouse in the thick fog of a sea guiding sailors to shore.
Jayce knows then, all too aware, that he doesn’t deserve any of this. The same way Viktor had stolen all logical thoughts in front of Piltover Times and that time at the bath house, is the same way he is now making Jayce think logically.
“It’s never too late to make amends, Jayce,” he whispers. Words that cut through his stoic heart, taking Jayce by surprise. As if Viktor could read him like a book. As if Viktor had known him his whole life and knows the darkness lurking in his soul.
As if Viktor were a light ready to snuff out that darkness.
The fiery scent that is usually overpowering and all encompassing is now fizzling and threatening to dissipate as regret overtakes Jayce again. A rough wave carrying his body to the depths of the ocean where the darkness and the heaviness of the situation are greater in magnitude.
Viktor blinks, noticing the change. “Is there anything else you want to tell me, Jayce?”
Jayce knows this is his chance. To come clean. To let him know what an ass he’s been—blinded by unfounded jealousy and his ever present instincts. Can feel the bond between them shaking with his own uncertainty. The words are dancing on the tip of his tongue, threatening to spill out into the night.
Yet…
Yet what comes out is a wavering “no” that has his old and current self shaking with disappointment. Jayce’s heart heavy with the misery he has put Viktor through. An ever growing thorn in his beating heart.
Viktor was a canvas that Jayce had been painting in the dark in hopes of creating a masterpiece only to find a mess the moment he turned the lights on.
Viktor’s eyes are now downcast. As if he could tell that there was something else Jayce wasn’t telling him. And just like that, the tense atmosphere returns. Suffocating them both in the aftermath of Jayce’s lies.
The intonation of Viktor’s voice is soft and quiet, filled with the tense months they’ve shared but willing to work through it as he speaks, “why are you afraid of being honest with me? The truth trembles on your tongue, I can feel it. Is honesty something you Pilties lack? Or am I not worthy of being privy to the machinations of your mind and heart?”
Jayce realizes then that he could feel Viktor coursing through him—his emotions, the rawness inside. The yearning hidden beneath the complex layers.
“Viktor—you…” Jayce trails off momentarily. Caught between a rock and a hard place. “You would hate me.”
“I would rather know the monster within then go on pretending as if I don’t see it or as if I am not… endeared by it,” Viktor says with all the acceptance in the world, his voice getting softer at the end, almost a whisper. A thought Viktor seemed to have buried now coming to light.
And that—
Maybe then I would understand why the dirt you step on is treated better than your own husband.
Well—
That has Jayce’s brain short circuiting. Viktor wanted to know Jayce. The real Jayce. Not the one that plays nice for the masses, but the one that pulls the strings to manipulate the outcome to his whim.
I wish I could get a glimpse into that head of yours.
Jayce closes his eyes as he takes in a shaky breath. When he opens them again, he finds Viktor staring up at him with those gold rimmed irises he loves. They make Jayce’s heart skip a beat. The silence that stretches between them is not heavy anymore, rather filled with quiet acceptance.
Maybe then I would understand why the dirt you step on is treated better than your own husband.
He ducks his head just as Viktor leans his up. Their lips meet and once again Jayce finds himself at Viktor’s mercy.
The wherewithals of how they got there be damned.
They come apart and Jayce leans his forehead against Viktor’s, tenderly holding him. Allowing himself to be the man he was prior to the politics of Piltover sinking its claws into him.
So, he begins to speak. And when he does, there’s not a shadow on his tongue nor a string attached to it. Viktor wanted the truth, so he would get it.
“Viktor, just know I did everything—“
—Maybe then I would understand why the dirt you step on is treated better than your own husband.—
Yet fear is such a capricious little thing, isn’t it? A sparkler surrounded by dry autumn leaves—any loose sparks and whoosh up their progress goes in flames.
“Jayce?” Viktor asks after sensing Jayce’s hesitation. Brows furrowed in question as those cat eyes stare up at him, expectant. The hope gleaming in them hard to dismiss.
I wish I could get a glimpse into that head of yours.
Heart in his throat, Jayce couldn’t risk it.
With their pheromones mingling together to make the most enticing of scents—was that sweet milk in the undertones?—Jayce sighs and presses a kiss to Viktor’s temple.
Jayce had just gotten those adoring eyes back.
He will tell Viktor.
He truly, honest to Janna will.
Just not…
Just not tonight.
“Let’s get some rest for now. It can wait.”
To say he didn’t notice how his mate’s scent soured and his lips curled down in distaste would be a lie.
Maybe then I would understand why the dirt you step on is treated better than your own husband.
Needless to say, as Viktor’s warm body presses up against him and curls a leg over one of Jayce’s strong thighs—an acceptance of Jayce’s silence—Jayce’s heart was quickly spiraling into the uncontrolled darkness he himself had brought upon them.
Notes:
Oh, Jayce. When will you learn that you’ll get further by just being open and honest?
Thanks for the comments on last chapter, guys! Next chapter is going to be about the same length of time in getting an update. I’m thinking of writing some CNC for Jayvik BDSM week.
As always, let me know what you think! Your feedback feeds the worm in my head 🥰
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Chapter 9: I’d Rather Pretend
Summary:
Viktor is genuinely happy until he isn’t.
Chapter Text
The next week goes by in a blur. Jayce had left the planning entirely up to Viktor and Ximena. In a way, he was relieved to keep his mind busy. Solving equations, soldering prototypes, and notching gears was more up his alley, but for now he’d have to make do with, erm, choosing what type of flowers would go best with the decor outside in the garden.
Sky had been pacing relentlessly behind him and Steb had kept close guard whenever Viktor needed to make an impromptu trip down town for catering needs. Even if Jayce insisted they could just come to the estate. In reality, he wanted to shop around and see if maybe he had missed a Zaunite restaurant when they had last been there with Jayce. In his head, it wouldn’t be a true celebration if Zaun’s influence wasn’t felt.
Which is how he had found a rustic pastry shop that served his favorite treat from back home—the Zaunite roll he served Jayce and Ximena just two weeks ago.
This morning, he was making sure that everything was going according to plan. Ximena had changed the color of the table cloths to a forest green earlier this week as a way to bring out some of that Zaun touch Viktor craved. The layered fabric reminded Viktor of leaves falling in autumn. There were cushioned umber chairs with silver lining their frames. At the center, an arrangement of Zaun’s night blooming flowers sat inside a simple white base. Their large petals enclosed around its ovule and filament, only meant to open at night and let people know exactly why it got its name.
To keep with the theme, he made sure that the marble pathway that led to a raised stage was littered with the night flowers and white roses from their garden. Each blade of grass looked deliberately placed, each petal manicured to perfection. The fairy lights that had been present at his wedding were hung on the trees once more to create an ethereal canopy.
A part of him felt…
Silly.
He had become a housewife. The very thing his father Silco had raised him not to be. But Jayce had promised to give him a place in his lab after clearing it with the Council. Had submitted the paperwork the very next day after they made merry.
Being with him lately had been nice. Not too overbearing, not too full of expectations. Just… neutrality in its best form.
Six months is—rather short, actually.
In retrospect, it had felt like long days filled with heartbreak and hope all wrapped in a box with a shitty bow atop it. Not that Jayce had been his worst self lately.
Jayce had been…
Well, Jayce had been nothing short of perfect as of late. A few days didn’t erase all the pain he had caused, but it had been a start. He still had not told him the full details of what he was keeping from Viktor, but a part of the omega wanted to believe it couldn’t be that bad. There still was the matter of keeping up the act of appearing as the perfect couple, as well. Made easier by the alpha doting on him whenever he could.
Right now?
Well—
Right now Viktor was going through the opulent boxes with neatly cut and trimmed ribbons that Seraphine had dropped off a few days ago. A multitude of them. Jayce had kept them in his walk in closet, letting Viktor know of its location to obviously tempt him to come back into what was supposed to be their bedroom, where Viktor was supposed to nest.
The room had felt stuffy when he had first walked in again after so many weeks outside of it. Jayce’s presence could be felt everywhere. Quite literally so. His scent specially. He missed him.
Viktor had frowned when he had seen the pajama bottoms at the center of the bed—the ones Viktor woke up with that fateful morning after their bedding. Why Jayce had it, Viktor could only guess. He tries to push past the momentary revulsion that is making his blood curdle and stomach twist. Not the best memory he has, a part of him still very obviously hesitant with Jayce but the other still willing to try.
The alpha had been making good progress. Viktor shouldn’t dwell too much in the past. Resentment was not a pretty color to wear.
With a gulp, he had pushed past the double doors that led to the grand closet and went straight for the boxes in the middle, neatly stacked atop a wardrobe with glass showcasing all around it. The one where Jayce kept his expensive jewelry, cuff links, ties, and socks in and had the pretty gray velvet felt and lights lining every drawer.
Jayce had gone to the lab early in the morning. Not that Viktor had suddenly grown attached to the hip to him, but still. His omega instincts were insistent lately. His heat hadn’t yet come, either, but he was having heat-like symptoms that left him confounded. It normally didn’t take long for it to take complete control of him. Not to mention the underlying tones of sweet milk in his scent as of late or his clothes feeling more snug.
Maybe it was the stress.
With a sigh, Viktor grabs and opens the first box that had sat pretty at the top. It was small, not giving away what was inside. Undoing the ribbon that held it together, Viktor had carefully opened it. To not ruin the expensive material that held the contents inside—
“What the fuck,” Viktor breathes out, dropping the box as if it was lava. Out of it spills out the parchment paper and the material that sat atop it. It’s intricate lace designs giving away what it was.
Had—Viktor gulps—had Jayce ordered this?
No. He couldn’t have. Surely the alpha didn’t have a death wish, did he?
Viktor looks around to make sure no one was close—silly, since he was alone for now—and bends over to pick up the box and the items that had haphazardly spilled out. Along with the silk padding, there was a note neatly tucked inside. The elegant cursive is unmistakably Seraphine’s.
To my dearest Vikki,
Since you were always a fan ;)
Love,
Sera
Viktor once again swallows around the sudden dryness in his throat. He lets the delicate items extend. Talis red sheer thigh high socks greet him. Along with it, a set that includes a white lace panty and waist garter belt in gold to match and latch the stockings to. Viktor picks up the offensive underwear and almost hurls it across the room when he notices the crotch area splits.
Why?!
Why would an underwear need to part around the crotch area? What purpose would that—
Oh.
Oh.
Huh.
Curiosity starts to get the best of him. All too clear he can see the vision. He starts going through the boxes and finds a set similar to the first in every other box, in different colors. He doesn’t bother going through the big boxes yet. Already, the gears are turning in his head. His imagination working overtime.
The lab wasn’t too far from the Talis mansion. Jayce had left bright and early, meaning he’ll be back soon. The soirée, as Jayce called it, was not until a few hours from now. He glances at his robed figure in the mirror that runs along the wall towards the back of the closet.
He didn’t think of himself as the most attractive person. Jayce had him beat in that race, for sure. But he also didn’t think he was unattractive. His wet hair clings to his sharp cheeks, having come out of the shower before coming here. His lissome figure hidden by the soft fabric.
If Seraphine made these for him, then it was for no good reason. Meant to be worn. Perhaps even torn…
Jayce had been good lately. Maybe it was time for Viktor to initiate some intimacy.
With a somewhat decisive huff, he makes up his mind.
He glances inside one of the large boxes that was labeled For the Event, snatches the box with the Talis red suit inside, and walks out of the room with a deep plum lingerie set tucked safely inside the box.
It feels heavier than it is as he walks to the other wing of the house, cane clacking on the marble floor too loud for his liking.
Too preoccupied looking back, he doesn’t see the tall figure rounding the corner.
Before he knows it, his head is bumping against a hard chin. A sharp pain takes root on his forehead as he stumbles back, losing his footing and the grip on the box. The contents inside spill out. Almost immediately, a strong set of arms wrap around his waist so he doesn’t fall.
The instant recognition of the familiar pheromones and beautiful turquoise skin has his eyes widening in embarrassment.
“Steb,” Viktor groans, undignified at being too distracted looking back to look forward. Briefly wonders how much of that applies to his life. “Apologies, friend.”
Steb shrugs, a coy smirk spreading on his lips as the movement presses them closer together. Steb’s arms shift, almost pulling Viktor closer to him. The space between them nonexistent.
There’s tension there that Viktor couldn’t linger too long on, mind fixated on the items that fell. Clearing his throat, he untangles himself from the slim Vastaya, swallowing past the dryness that suddenly took over.
Viktor watches him sign to watch where you go before his eyes take in the items strewn on the floor.
Of course, of course, the Gods above don’t favor him. As if in slow motion, Steb cocks his head and crouches to put the items back in the container. The scales around his impossibly blue eyes flutter in recognition as he picks up the plum bottom piece. Viktor is frozen in place, transfixed by the scene unfolding in front of him. Eyes owlishly wide, his mind doesn’t register what Steb has in his hand until it is too late.
“You speak of this to no one,” Viktor yelps, quickly going back into action and almost snatching the piece from Steb’s hand and quickly throwing everything into the box once more.
Viktor doesn’t have time to process the way the Vastaya’s teal cheeks turn a darker shade before he’s rushing down the hall and into his chamber, quickly shutting the door behind him as if he had just ran a marathon. Out of breath as if he had just been bedded by Jayce.
Speaking of which, that hadn’t happened since last week. Viktor was starting to wonder if Jayce was purposefully holding back. The omega side of him wanted to be thoroughly dominated.
viktor’s hormones were all over the place as of late and he had been feeling tired, emotional, and horny. Probably the reason why he was even indulging this silly thought that sparked and ignited a steady fire in his belly. Incident with Steb be damned. Call him shameless.
Biting his lip, he settles the large box on the bed, opens it to retrieve the salacious items, and sits down on the edge of the bed after letting the robe fall off his body. Leaving him in nothing but the skin he was born in. The coldness in the room bites into him, making his nipples perk up with a shudder.
The underwear comes on first. The folds of it open up in a way that outlines his mound, tucks away at the sides of his lower lips and catches at the swell of his ass as if to give it more definition. The gold garter belt comes on next. An easy hook mechanism that connects at the small of his back. All intricate patterned lace.
The mirror in the corner as he stands gives him a glimpse of what it looks like. The deep purple shade works to bring out his alabaster skin, making the gold of his eyes sparkle even more than usual. The suspenders by his thighs are meant for the thigh high socks. So far, Viktor liked what he saw. He grabs a scrunchy from where it lays on the nightstand and puts his hair up in a messy high bun. Letting a few strands fall to frame his face the way he knows Jayce likes.
A blush brings his body temperature to a high as an image of Jayce making love fucking him in this is supplied by his very hungry omega.
No. He—Viktor is just trying it on to see how it would look right now. To maybe use later. Nothing else. If Jayce happens to see it and they happen to get physical, that was pure coincidence.
He lays back against the pillows by the head rest, carefully lifting his bad leg above him to slip on the sheer sock, clasping on the garters carefully. It hides the permanent indents on his flesh left behind by the leg brace. Viktor studies the flimsy item, turning his leg every which way to find it is a very snug fit. A second skin, almost. The suspenders are more to complete the look, if he were to guess.
He’s halfway through with rolling up the second sock up his thigh, so invested in the process that he nearly misses the sound of the door creaking open and Jayce poking his head in to see if Viktor was there.
Instantly, Jayce’s skin is peachy over the tan of it on his face. Viktor’s cherry red. The air injected with electricity. As if an invisible current was cackling like live-wire as their eyes remained fixated on each other’s.
That is one thing Jayce and Viktor have always been good at. Eye contact in these types of situations. None of them backing out.
Viktor should cover up. Feign some innocence, but he doesnt find much will to give a damn. He was parched, and Jayce was usually more than willing to quench his thirst.
Funny how easy Viktor caved when it came to his mate. Gods, he felt weak for this man.
“Something the matter, Jayce?”
Viktor was feeling like the cheeky bastard he usually was, and so he let it show.
Viktor’s leg is still bent at the knee in the air above him, fingers still clutching the hem of the stocking as he secures the garter into place. Eyes still heavily fixated on the alpha whom he had been trying to make nice with.
Who had been—surprisingly—patiently waiting the days away while Viktor came to terms with their new normal. If it could even be called that.
Jayce wordlessly shuts the door behind him. Hungry hazel eyes roam Viktor’s body. A hot and heavy phantom caress. Shrugging out of his white and gold jacket, undoing the red neck tie and the buttons to the love sleeve shirt underneath. There’s a dark desire in his countenance that has Viktor’s heart skipping a beat. His scent was already overpowering Viktor’s senses, who was frozen in place as if in a trance.
Jayce lets the rest of his attire fall to the ground one by one. Balancing on one leg and then the other to remove both his pant legs and shoes at the same time. Viktor raises an eyebrow at the lack of undergarments. The alpha’s hairy chest and torso as well as that sinful V line in full display. Every line seemingly carved by the Gods themselves.
Jayce crawls onto the bed and Viktor has to place the foot that had been up in the air right on Jayce’s chest to keep him from coming any closer. The contact minimal but scorching against his socked foot.
The sound that starts as a deep growl from deep within Jayce’s chest is nothing but feral. Resonating in Viktor’s head and sending shivers that make the fine hairs on his body stand at attention.
“A reminder that you need permission, Mr. Talis,” Viktor whispers, affected and rough around the edges. That part of him that wants to push Jayce is present. Wanting to see how far he’ll go. Make that animal within come out.
Viktor felt fucked up in the head for loving liking it. The way that Jayce so freely took and demanded attention without so much as lifting a finger in a room full of people—Viktor could keep denying it and pretending like it didn’t appeal to him, but it did.
“It’s been so long, darling,” his voice is just as rough as Viktor’s, needy in an almost pathetic way that has Viktor’s lips parting. Tongue poking out to lick his bottom lip. The movement being sinfully tracked by Jayce.
“What are you wearing?” Jayce asks, his voice a husk.
“It was amongst the things Seraphine delivered.”
Jayce’s face slowly morphs into something darker and unreadable. Sinister, almost. The alpha’s hands hang on to Viktor’s thigh and calf on the foot restraining him. Easily able to break free but allowing Viktor that sense of control he craves at that moment. Correction: that Viktor was relishing in.
His cunt throbbing continuously was a clear sign of how much he liked being in control of the alpha male.
Which is precisely why he says what he says next.
“Seraphine’s gift,” Viktor starts, allowing his knee to bend slightly to make Jayce come closer. Like a man starved, Jayce does. Being careful to straddle his other leg, Jayce begins rutting against it. “Maybe she wanted to see me in this?”
“Maybe?” Jayce asks, the hand on his thigh moving dangerously close to the apex of Viktor’s legs. Fingers caressing the soft skin there, up and down repeatedly, but never touching, just teetering on the edge to build the anticipation. To make his cunt clench with need.
Viktor tracks the movement as Jayce’s fingers toy with one of the folds on the panties. The touch eliciting a throb in his lower belly at the memories of Jayce’s appendage. Desire igniting in his core.
“Maybe I’d want her to.”
That does it.
With a menacing growl, Jayce’s hands are fast to spread his legs wide open, tugging the bad one out from under him with surprising care. Viktor preens at the way each thigh fits perfectly in Jayce’s calloused hands. The brown of his skin a pretty contrast against his own and the plum of the lingerie.
“Fuck,” Jayce breathes, eyes dilating as Viktor’s scent grows sweeter, a silent call for him—for Jayce to take. He feels exposed like this. Jayce hikes his legs up further, leaning down to study every crevice and fold of his intimate part as if he were studying ancient texts about magic.
“Look at the way your body is begging for me,” Jayce breathes, licking his lips and letting go of his bad leg to push his middle finger inside with ease. The squelch sound making Viktor gasp at the motion. “Oooh, baby, so wet.”
Janna, this man was crazy. The sweet intrusion makes Viktor’s breath catch in his throat, stomach visibly tensing as Jayce begins to move it in and out. Not fast, not slow, just right.
Watching Jayce set to work as if he were a project he wanted to get right made Viktor shudder.
He was expecting Jayce to dive in. To place that long wet tongue of his against his very needy core. Was expecting Jayce to begin to kiss him or plead to enter him or even just have Viktor give him a hand job. Bend him over, pull his hair as he roughly fucked into him.
Anything.
What he wasn’t expecting was for him to lean back on his feet, grab Viktor’s own, and begin to pump his dick in between them. Jayce throws his head back for a brief moment then snaps it back so he wouldn’t miss a second of the way Viktor’s toes curled to try to get a better grip.
A hot summer breeze like one Viktor’s never known before rocks into him, bringing his body to a swelter.
“Need you,” Jayce grunts out and follows it with a heavy, drawn out moan when Viktor presses his feet tighter around Jayce’s thick girth. The silk tip is already glistening with his oncoming release. His heavy breaths a clear sign of it.
Viktor feels cruel and that cruelness gives him a boost of confidence he didn’t know he held.
So he removes his clothed feet and resumes the position where he had one against Jayce’s chest. The shift is immediate. Jayce pouts like a petulant child who’s been denied of his favorite toy.
Viktor tsks, “look at you. About to finish without taking care of me. Are you that starved for pussy, Jayce?”
Jayce’s eyes widen in surprise. Obviously noticing for the first time that Viktor’s truly in control. His cock bobs and Viktor muses at the sight of it swinging in the air.
“What do you want, baby?”
Viktor lets his toes lightly travel down Jayce’s hairy chest, down his navel and just below the base where his balls rest. He presses down on them. Not hard enough to cause pain but with enough pressure to make it be felt.
Jayce’s reaction is instant, thrusting forward to get more pressure.
“Fill me up, Jayce. I need you right—“ Viktor lewdly wets his index finger with a flick of his tongue, letting it map out the valley of his chest, down his flat stomach, and into the pretty folds of his already soaking cunt “—here.”
Jayce doesn’t have to be told twice to please his precious partner.
The moment he enters Viktor, Viktor’s back arches off the bed. The intrusion welcomed as he reaches up over his head to grab at the pillow he’s laying his head on. Jayce is kneeling in between his legs, grabbing a firm hold of his hips and holding him in mid air as he thoroughly fucks into him.
The raw power in the alpha will never not turn the omega on. Nor is the way that Jayce keeps grunting like a wild animal, coming undone. He’s chanting “mine, mine, mine,” like a deranged man and Viktor can’t help but respond with pleasured moans of his own at finally being filled and fucked the way he’s been wanting to.
ʚஐɞ
The arrangements were done. The estate was buzzing with servants and enforcers all throughout the place. Ensuring that every detail was right and that every bow and flower arrangement was perfectly done.
He stares at the image in the mirror, having come to Jayce’s room to change. The gold leg brace was back in place but with a different design now. The straps on this one more accommodating, more practical. Meant for every day use rather than just the opulent look the previous one had been aimed for.
The umber slacks he wears hug his figure in all the right places. A gold and white coat that has a little resemblance to the one Jayce wears on the daily adorns Viktor’s frame, tucked inside his slacks. A black waist corset with gold outlines ties at the back, blending seamlessly into the open back design of the top. A fine gold chain that connects at the pauldrons on his shoulders dangles on the open back, a T hanging beautifully down his spine. Once again, he is showing off his back. As if the imperfections he was born with were something to be proud of. Not to mention that the top had a deep V design at the front, too, that ran all the way down into the corset, giving everyone a glimpse of Viktor’s pale chest.
Too much skin.
Viktor was showing too much skin. No matter how much he tried to fix it and arrange it a type of way, it all ended up going back to how it was supposed to be: showing off his defects.
He stands there, alone in the reflection of the mirror in Jayce’s closet. Fiddling with the design of his shirt. Adjusting the too tight corset. Uncomfortably clammy all over.
Once again, is it his imagination or did the clothes fit too snug?
Jayce appears behind him not too long after, completely naked as he presses a towel to his wet hair. Viktor can’t admire it, his own frame blocking most of the view.
“Why do you insist on putting me in these types of attire?” Viktor asks, trying not to give away the self consciousness he’s feeling inside but failing.
Jayce settles the towel in the dirty clothes hamper before grabbing Viktor by the hips and hugging him from behind. The embrace feels foreign, almost. Viktor didn’t really do well with physical affection. His father Silco never showed him any and Vander was too overwhelming with it. Much like Jayce had been all day today after their little, uh, physical bout.
“You look magnificent. Not even an original Jhin painting could compare to your beauty,” Jayce smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. Their size difference is even more striking this way.
Viktor, scrawny and frail due to the illness he contracted at a young age, which left his body in the state it is now. No matter how much food he ate, he couldn’t gain weight nor enough muscle mass to really be considered anything but thin with sharp feminine features. Jayce, all lean muscle and virile masculinity. Hovering above Viktor with ease, having to lean down to kiss him or hunch over to touch him intimately. Which he was starting to do until Viktor grabbed his wrist and pulled it out of his already too tight slacks.
“You will ruin these. They’re expensive,” Viktor chastised.
Jayce huffs, grabbing Viktor by the chin and allowing his thumb to press firmly on Viktor’s lower lip. dragging it down and letting it go once his nose pressed closer to Viktor’s.
Jayce’s shaky exhale brushes against his lips, the minty breath making Viktor stand on his tippy toes to get closer.
“To me, you’re the most valuable thing I’ve ever had. I’ll rip these off you and get you new ones. What’s mine is yours,” Jayce whispers, letting his lips linger on Viktor’s in a tender press of lips. “Out of all the items in my collection, you’re the most beautiful and valuable one.”
How did Jayce manage that? To make something as simple as touch be so electrifying? To make the mood change in an instant and make Viktor feel like the most beautiful person in the world as if he hadn’t just been mentally picking at his insecurities.
“I’m a thing now, Mr. Talis?” He smiles, bashful, happy.
“No, Mr. Talis. It is just to say that you’re breathtaking regardless of what you wear, or don’t wear,” Jayce’s toothy grin is infectious. So is the hand that is now palming his core.
Then Jayce kisses him—really kisses him. It is like that first time they shared a genuine kiss. Deep but slow, forcing Viktor to take what Jayce dishes out so effortlessly. The hold on his chin unrelenting. His heart fluttering, elated, he hangs on to Jayce’s wrist and deepens the kiss.
Jayce’s soft lips move to press against Viktor’s jaw, tilting his head to the side for better access to his neck. He sucks, hard, and Viktor moans low and long.
“We can’t be late, Jayce,” Viktor’s voice is a breathy little thing that Jayce will never tire of.
“Then let me at least taste you.”
“That’ll be counterproductive.”
“How so?” He innocently asks, undoing the buttons to his slacks with one hand and pushing it inside, middle finger quickly going for the wet prize.
Viktor shudders against him and sighs in pleasure, watching their reflection in the mirror and how he’s writhing against Jayce. The scene almost foreign to Viktor, who was not used to such depraved displays of affection or physical touches prior to the alpha behind him.
“I’d just want you inside me,” Viktor trembles, grabbing the back of Jayce’s neck for balance, grasping the hair there hard.
“That can be easily arranged, mi hermoso corazón,” Jayce laps at his neck. The trail wet and hot as a rough finger pushes inside his already tender hole. Greedily, he clenches around the digit as if he can’t get enough. Jayce’s mother tongue sounding sinful in his ears.
“What’s a few minutes of being late?”
“An hour,” Jayce counters.
“Nnn—no. Twenty minutes.”
“Fifty.”
“Jayce,” Viktor calls out. Both in disbelief and pleasure at the introduction of another digit inside him. “Thirty. You’re a fiend.”
“Forty. And only for you,” Jayce chuckles, biting Viktor’s earlobe and fuck, isn’t that lovely?
ʚஐɞ
“I agree to forty and you make it a whole hour,” Viktor chastises Jayce on the way down the stairs.
“You just taste so good.”
Viktor rolls his eyes, making sure to hang on to Jayce’s arm for balance as to not ruin the red rose decorations on the railing.
“Never knew a normal person could like that so much.”
“I’m not your average person, now am I?”
“Perhaps a bit too cocky. Have to knock that down a notch or two,” Viktor quips, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips.
The distant chatter of people already outside in the garden could be heard. A few laughs here and there, the doors to the kitchen swinging open, servers carrying empty trays to be restocked with finger food and refreshments could be seen from their spot on the steps. Classic black and white attire on each one of them.
Jayce comes to a stop at the bottom of the steps, in front of an accent table that stands at the center of the foyer, staring at Viktor expectantly. The chandelier above it shining its golden dapple lights on a silver gift box.
Viktor frowns at the fancy box, giving Jayce a curious glance over.
“Surprise,” Jayce says, undoing their linked arms to gently push Viktor towards the box.
“I don’t know if I like surprises. The last time you were the one to reap the benefits,” Viktor says, referring to the lingerie.
“Well, this time it is truly all about you,” Jayce says, bringing one of Viktor’s hands to his warm lips.
Gods above and demons below, did Jayce always have to give Viktor that intense glare? His bedroom eyes were for sure on another level and they were making Viktor lightheaded. It felt as though he was insatiable.
Is this what it felt like to be cared for properly? The fluttering in his stomach, was it normal? Or the way that his heart skipped a beat as Jayce kept steady eye contact with him. Always steady and sure, never wavering. Even at the beginning, those eyes had always burned for him.
Viktor rolls his own to hide the discomfort of not knowing what to do or say. Instead choosing to wave him off and playfully say, “you’re an expert with that tongue in and out of the bedroom, I see.”
Jayce chuckles, “might get me in trouble one day. Open it.”
Viktor tugs at the pearly white fabric and it instantly comes undone. He opens it and the first thing he notices is the umber red, gold, and white. Talis colors.
“Here I thought it was all about me,” Viktor jokes. It is easier than admitting that the item inside had him choked up. A thoughtful gift that he didn’t think Jayce would ever be capable of. The kind of stuff you only read about in romance novels.
Delicate fingers trace the cool but sturdy metal encased inside an arrangement of silk fabrics. He was wondering why the box was so long and this was the reason.
Like a flower blooming in spring, Viktor’s heart was opening up. Piecing back together with the glue of Jayce’s affections. A lump in his throat forms.
He picks up the cane, feels it out. Not too heavy, very practical. The handle skillfully wrapped in umber leather to give it a better grip.
“The top part screws on. Just in case you need extra support, it attaches right here,” Jayce points out, tapping the part it locked into.
“What makes you think I’ll need extra support, Jayce?” Viktor asks, feigning innocence.
At this, Jayce leans in close to his ear, grabbing him by the hips, “after I’m done with you tonight you will.”
“Jayce,” Viktor huffs, a blush spreading across his nose and cheeks. “You’re insatiable.”
“Thank you,” he says after a while, the sentiment Jayce stirred within him making him genuinely smile.
“Jayce, Viktor!” A familiar voice calls them from up the stairs.
They both turn to see Ximena walking down, wearing a blue and black dress that flares out below the waist. Her hair up in its usual tight bun. Looking every bit the elegant woman she was.
“You look lovely, mijo,” she says once in front of Viktor, bringing him into that motherly hug he has grown to adore. Full of all the warmth she could muster. Her scent sweet and comforting.
Not as soothing as his father Vander’s embrace, but still pretty close.
“You look great, Ximena,” Viktor compliments.
“Do I look any good, ma?”
“You are wearing the same outfit you always do. It is as if it were a uniform,” Ximena responds, quick to wave Jayce away.
“I try not to let his head get any bigger than what it already is, either,” Viktor jests.
Jayce groans, “I got two rogues in my own pack.”
For once the air is not tense nor heavy with any of the calamity from the past few months. The ambiance all around was lively and Viktor could hear the music being played outside, soft but jubilant. Reminiscent of the past few days.
Dare he say it?
Viktor for once felt… happy.
True happiness. Like the time he watched Powder recite him a poem that was badly written, calling him a booger head only to end it with an I love you and an unexpected hug. Or the time he gifted Vi that tape he himself made at their home lab so it wouldn’t chafe her skin when she taped her breast down and she made him his favorite meal in return. Or when Vander would bake him his favorite Zaunite sweet because he was feeling down. Or even that one time Silco, with a firm hand on Viktor’s shoulder, had let him know how proud of him he was for the bright man he was becoming.
The light in his heart began to grow, casting out the shadows, and Viktor’s smile softened, more appreciative. For once, he felt like this was truly becoming his new home. Becoming accustomed to his new normal.
“You did a wonderful job, mi cielo! La casa has never looked this good,” Ximena beams, pinching Viktor’s cheeks as if he really were his son.
“I did have your help,” Viktor reminds her, holding her hand against his cheek tenderly where she had squeezed it. “Couldn’t have asked for a better mother in law.”
“Oh, such a sweet man. How did Jayce get so lucky?”
“Well, a treaty was signed and here we are,” Viktor quips, meant to be a dry joke. Ximena’s smile falters as Viktor lets go of her hand and immediately he starts regretting it. A touchy subject.
Jayce’s expression is unreadable, but Viktor could feel the strong current of emotions through their bond. His posture was rigid, too, as he tucked his hands behind his back in that stupid polite pose of his he hates and loves. Viktor knows it as the one he hides himself behind whenever he was uncomfortable or wanting to fake appearances. Make himself smaller in a way.
“You’ve been glowing lately, and that’s all that matters now, cariño. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re expecting. What with you smelling like that sweet liquid you love so much.”
Viktor freezes then, pale. Sweet milk?
No. It would be—it would be too soon.
He’s barely had enough time to enjoy himself with Jayce now that he wasn’t being a total ass and Viktor could actually stand the sight of him. Hell, even crave his company and warmth.
“My heat is coming,” Viktor comments matter of fact. Not blinking, as if that should explain it.
“Ah, you’ve mentioned that. You know, in some omegas, heat like symptoms are a pretty good sign of early pregnancy. Specially if the symptoms last more than a week.”
Ximena’s voice is normal. Like this was a conversation she had every day. As normal as rain falling and the sun shining. As if they were discussing the weather or the mechanisms of the Hexgates Jayce loved to blabber about.
But how long has Viktor been having heat like symptoms with no actual heat? He kept telling himself his heat was around the corner, ready to burst through any time. But his symptoms never lasted longer than a few days.
“V?” Jayce’s voice snaps Viktor out of his momentary shock.
“People are waiting to be entertained,” Viktor says dismissively, giving a firm shake of his head before politely smiling at the mother-son duo.
Jayce studies him for a few seconds, as if he could feel the emotions coursing through Viktor. Ximena just rubs his arm, helping to placate his confused mental.
“Come, let’s entertain,” is all Jayce says before placing a hand to the small of his back and guiding them outside.
ʚஐɞ
Two hours later, Viktor was growing irritated. Having to become palatable enough for the Piltover elites was not on his cards at all, so he found it daunting that Salo and Hoskel kept stealing glances his way whenever Jayce and Viktor made rounds to converse, and Viktor would just give a curt nod, a tight smile, and hang by Jayce’s side. His posture rigid, Jayce’s loose. Their eyes on him were judging from afar and Viktor wanted to extend his middle finger out in greeting. His only comfort was Jayce’s gentle squeezes on his arms, waist, and the press of his lips to his temple.
It was a masterpiece, really—watching Jayce dance around the space the way he did. Flashing that smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, but showed off enough to appease the crowd. To paint the perfect canvas of someone at ease with this lifestyle.
Deep down, Viktor knew that wasn’t true. As easy as breathing, Viktor could feel Jayce’s disdain. It was mirrored on Viktor’s own countenance. For the sake of saving face, he kept his distaste limited to it. Choosing to grab a glass flute of Noxian wine whenever a waiter swung by.
It’d be easier if his family were here, but only a few of their close friends had made an appearance tonight.
Viktor had sent word and was met with a letter back stating:
Out of town.
Won’t be around.
Love,
Dads *Jinx Was Here!*
To which Jayce had offered some words of reassurance and let him know they’ll see his family soon enough when they visit the following week.
Needless to say, Viktor was feeling the state of being without his family.
“—ery soon, Marcus. We are trying to enjoy each other’s company,” he hears Jayce say to Piltover’s sheriff. His tone jovial and welcoming.
“Ah, gotcha. I truly wish you both the best,” Marcus says, giving a curt nod before melting back into the crowd.
Viktor huffs, “I’d much rather be sleeping.”
“It’s just politics, darling. We’ll get to bed soon,” Jayce says, bringing Viktor into a sideways embrace and pressing a kiss to his temple.
The sun was beginning to melt into the horizon. The usually vivid oranges and reds now giving way to the dark blue canvas above. The light pollution around the estate was minimal, allowing the stars to twinkle with ease. The path from the house to the garden was starting to glow iridescent purple as the bioluminescent night flowers begun to open up. A few guests stared, appreciative, murmuring their appraisal amongst one another that made a small part of Viktor swell with pride.
Viktor spots Steb standing by the entrance to the maze, looking every bit the serious man Viktor knew he was not. Deciding he’s had enough of showing face with the pompous bastards, Viktor allows himself to drift away from Jayce, who had began to speak to his friend, Caitlyn.
Steb spots him coming and his posture relaxes a bit, a small smile on his face.
“If I didn’t know you, I’d say you’re serious all the time,” Viktor jokes, taking a sip of the wine in his hand.
Steb’s lips curl at the corners, gaze fixated on Viktor as he does a hand gesture for trouble.
Viktor scoffs, clutching imaginary pearls, “if I wanted to sneak out, where would be the best place to go to?”
“Maze,” he signals, eyes darting to it then back to Viktor. After some hesitation and sensing Viktor’s resolve, he signs “Don’t go.”
“Oh? Why not?”
“Only thing worth looking at,” Steb finishes by pointing his fingers to his eyes then at Viktor.
And Viktor has to take a closer look at the Vastaya. At the way his eyes softened when he stared at Viktor and the way he always remained calm and open with him.
Steb grows serious again instantly, respectfully taking a step back, arms behind his straightened back.
“You can’t say that,” Viktor whispers and frowns at the sudden change, tilting back the rest of the wine before he feels a warm set of lips on his naked back, trailing up his shoulder and neck and settling on his temple possessively.
The whole time his eyes didn’t leave Steb’s. His drunken mind must have been playing games on him. Steb was saying that in a friendly way. Must have been. There’s no way a Vastaya would ever be interested in him.
Not while knowing that Jayce was his mate, too.
The sudden touch on his back had been much too intimate for such a public setting, but already Viktor knew it was Jayce.
“Quit distracting my staff, darling,” Jayce whispers into his ear, grabbing him by the wrist and taking him back to the crowd. A little too insistent, a little too rough.
“He’s my friend,” Viktor reminds him, attempting to wiggle his hand out of Jayce’s grasp but failing miserably.
“And we are entertaining right now,” Jayce responds, waving to a couple that had just walked in through the doors.
Viktor begins to quietly seethe, glaring at Jayce as if he had just been kicked.
“I’d much rather be back home,” Viktor murmurs, low enough for Jayce to hear. Knowing he was being difficult but ready to end the night.
Jayce has that clipped smile. The one that doesn’t reach his eyes. On the outside, the way that he’s leaning in and beginning to sway them to the music looked as if they were just slow dancing. But the heaviness in the air between them was unmistakably hot and almost uncomfortable.
“And I’d much rather be giving you an attitude adjustment at this very moment. Yet here we are,” Jayce says next to his ear, sending a shiver down his spine and making Viktor blush when he feels exactly with what Jayce would be adjusting his attitude with.
”Apologies, Jayce. I just—I just miss my family, is all,” Viktor admits, allowing his hands to settle on the alpha’s shoulders.
Jayce responds by kissing his forehead, pulling him closer, “we’ll see them soon enough, mi rey.”
Viktor sighs, pressing the side of his face on Jayce’s chest. Happily letting himself be swayed, taking in that fiery scent he was growing to love. Allowing himself to be comforted.
A few moments later, Viktor watches from his peripheral as one of the security guards comes into view from the terrace above them, gives Jayce a short nod then quickly retreats back into the house to keep watch at the front. A signal, of sorts.
Jayce pulls Viktor close, whispering into his ear once more, “I have a surprise for you.”
“Another?”
“You’ll like this one more,” Jayce says, a self assured smile plastered on his face.
As if on cue, the doors opened. At first, Viktor had to do a double take to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him.
“Jayce?” He asks, shocked. Lower lip trembling at the deluge of emotions coursing through him.
But Jayce is already walking them towards the Zaunites that had joined them, a genuine smile plastered on his face. Not the one that he saves for the public, but the one that only a certain few get to see. The one that makes his eyes crinkle.
The air felt thick with memories as honey gold met his father’s mismatched eyes. Like the air before rain falls, the air now was becoming heavy with emotion and at the same time charged with the kind of peace that only family can bring.
“Father,” Viktor cries once in front of Silco, and Viktor can’t help it. He entwines his long arms under his father’s and holds him. The familiar scent of ink and parchment paper emanate from Silco to scent his son immediately. To signal Viktor’s still part of his home.
He was expecting his father to pull away, reject him but it never happened. Instead, he pulled Viktor in closer and he felt Vander, Powder, and Vi join from all around them.
“Jeeze, I missed your bony ass,” Jinx mutters from somewhere in the circle.
He would’ve preferred their reunion to be more intimate, more private and away from curious and judging eyes, but this was just as lovely.
Viktor’s body melts and his eyes spill tears of comfort and happiness. His shoulders shake and he’s sniffling, getting snot all over his father’s fancy coat, the one he takes out specifically for fancy functions, but he can’t seem to care.
Vander laughs, “we are here, Vik. You’re acting like we died or something, kid.”
“Or something,” he mumbles absentmindedly, loving the way Silco’s arms tighten around him but ignoring the way his pheromones change to something a little more sour at his comment.
ʚஐɞ
A few moments later finds them inside the home, gathered around the dinner table for more intimacy. Jayce had left to speak to Mel. A nagging feeling in his chest had arose when the councilor had approached him, but it is something that Viktor forewent in order to be with his family.
“Jayce was planning on taking us next week,” he comments.
“Pretty boy sure knows how to spoil you, huh, Vik,” Powder comments. A knowing smirk playing on her lips.
Vi hums in agreement, mouth full of the pastries she had made a servant bring a full tray of.
Viktor nervously laughs, rubbing his arm. Ignoring the way Vander watches the nervous tick. “He’s, eh, he’s alright.”
“You’re glowing, son. He must be taking good care of you,” Silco says, sipping on the wine one of the waiters had brought for them all. His scrutinizing gaze not wavering.
“Something of that nature,” he responds, quietly.
How could he tell his parents that the last six months had been hell and it had only gotten better recently? How could he tell them that Jayce was crazy and possessive and had this dark side he didn’t show anyone? How could he explain to them that he’s been cooped up in this house, tied down to a man that up until recently started treating him better than the dirt he steps on? And that somehow, along the way, Viktor still found himself actually falling for the potential?
“Don’t fall for the potential, Viktor, but for what they actually show you,” those words of advice from Vander reverberate in his brain. On repeat because he did, in fact, start to fall for the potential, for the small things that Jayce showed and told him.
“That or he’s carrying,” Vi scoffed. A joke but hitting a little too close to home.
“Not at all,” Viktor rushed out. “Far too soon. I’m enjoying our honeymoon stage.”
Silco hums from where he sits at the head of the table, all eyes falling on him. The air suddenly tense. “Your father smelled of those cookies he loves so much when he was expecting. You smell of sweet milk, son.”
Viktor’s mouth suddenly goes dry. Fingers nervously scratching the inside of his wrist. A little too hard. Leaving behind a sting to distract from the oncoming panic attack.
Vander frowns next to him, “it would strengthen the treaty, but I do agree with Viktor that it is far too soon.”
Viktor gulps back the rest of the wine in his glass and immediately it is replaced by another one by the waiter hovering around them. He nods his thanks and turns to Vander.
“How did you know?”
“What? That I was expecting?”
“Mhm,” Viktor responds, quietly searching his bearded face. As if he held all the answers.
“Actually, it was Silco who figured it out,” Vander chuckles, grasping Silco’s hand in a tender show of affection.
“Your pheromones will begin to affect your partner. I wasn’t able to keep my hands off—“
“—gross, I’m leaving—“ Vi and Powder say at the same time.
Silco continues after the sisters made a show of leaving, chairs loudly scraping on the floor, “that’s how I knew. I was overly protective.”
Viktor swallows, not quite sure what to make of the second comment. Jayce and him had not been sharing a room whatsoever except that one night when he decided to give Jayce another chance. Today was the only day where they really had a go at exploring their bodies repeatedly.
“I also had heat like symptoms for three months straight,” Vander comments before asking the waiter to get him something stronger: an Old Fashioned for him and Silco.
Viktor’s back straightens, stiff as a rod. Now truly hitting too close to his worries.
Silco is analyzing him as he always does, a thin eyebrow cocked. “You’re with pup, Vik. I can smell it from a mile away. You shouldn’t be drinking.”
“I—father, no. I-I am not,” Viktor very unconvincingly says.
“Where is your mate?” He asks after a pregnant pause.
Viktor sighs, trying to regain his composure. “In his study with councilor Medarda. I’ll go get him.”
“Have a servant go get him,” Silco simply says.
But Viktor was already getting up. His body automatically wanting to get him out of the tense situation he found himself in.
His mind was reeling, going one hundred miles per hour. Jumping from thought to thought faster than the Hexgates. He couldn’t be carrying a pup. It was too soon. Not to mention he did not have enough alone time with Jayce. He needed to make sure Jayce would truly stay changed prior to making such a big commitment. Raising a baby was difficult with the right person, now imagine with the wrong person.
Viktor walks on auto pilot. His stomach sinking, eyes blurry, breathing heavy, heart rattling in his chest. It is not long before he finds himself approaching the door to Jayce’s study. He stops close to the entrance, once again familiar voices stopping him in his tracks. A weird sense of Déjà vu washes over him as words beckon him, an uninvited and unknown guest in Jayce’s and Mel’s conversation.
“—Zaun’s influence,” he hears Mel say. “He really is good for you.”
“Indeed. Dare I say, he’s changing me,” Jayce says, lighthearted. It didn’t take a genius to deduct whom they were speaking about.
“I am glad to see that is the case. I imagine he took the news well, then,” Mel says, to which Viktor frowns.
What news?
Jayce’s silence has Mel speaking up again, more stern, “you did tell him, did you not?”
A moment passes.
Then a few more and the silence grows.
Mel sounds frustrated, “do you not think he has a right to know?”
“Not yet, Mel,” Jayce says, clipped. Mood changing from light to heavy quick.
“It is time, Jayce. Do not let the foundation of your union be built on deceit.”
Viktor can’t quite accept the reality of the conversation being had. He’s trying to steady his breathing but once again he can’t help but think this is something he should not be listening to.
Much like the time at the maze, his curiosity is piqued. Anything to help distract from the fact that he might be expecting. Specially when said topic they’re speaking of has something to do with him.
“A bit too late, Mel. Things are going well. I do not want to ruin—“
“Should he not be made aware of how your tongue swayed the tides to change in your favor? Jayce, this is ridiculous!”
Viktor is a statue, unmoving. Sweat begins to seep out of him. Body clammy, tongue licking his lower lip in anticipation.
Jayce scoffs, his words a cold wind brushing against Viktor’s ears, “I would hardly call it that. His parents were already set on me from the beginning.”
“Should he not know that you first laid eyes on him at The Last Drop?” Mel asks, frustration evident in her tone now. “Prior to you getting married?”
Viktor swallows, heart rapidly sinking into his stomach. Into a hopeless barrel. He steps closer, not because he wants to, but because he can’t unhear what is peeling back the layers of Jayce’s deceit. Jayce had seen him and had been the one to influence the change that made them both carry the burden of the treaty? So he lied about the Council being the ones to do so?
“For some reason or another, the other council members convinced them I was the best match for you.”
Jayce had said that. He had uttered those words without batting an eye. He lied so fucking easy. To what end? If he wanted Viktor from the start, why lie?
Viktor’s brain is filled with squiggly lines trying to make sense of this new information. His vision is splotchy and a hand comes to rest against the door frame as his world falls apart.
Just when he was getting some semblance of control, it is forcefully yanked from his grasp. Just when he feels like he can maybe, just maybe, finally be happy, life shows him why he can’t be.
Gods, did that break his mending heart into smithereens and make him want to disappear completely.
Notes:
Just two more chapters (maybe!) until the end. So tired of Jayce’s stubborn ass ATP. I’m ready to pair Steb and Viktor off 😭 Jk.
OR AM I?!
Lingerie scene inspired by @dunwichbore’s lovely art
Chapter 10: How To Disappear Completely
Summary:
Viktor makes the decision to run away.
Notes:
Ah. A bit of violence in this chapter. I normally don’t like to use warnings, and I don’t think it’s something we didn’t see in the actual show, but just a bit of a heads up.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Mel, do not star—“ the door slams open.
Both their heads snap towards it.
Mel stood with her back to the door, Jayce sat on the chair behind his desk, lips parted mid-sentence with words left unspoken.
Viktor’s wide eyes brim, unbelieving as they shake. He blinks and tears roll down his cheeks, unchallenged.
The best day he has had in months was turning into a nightmare. Ruined.
“Why?” Viktor asks, breaking apart at the seams. “What was the fucking point?”
Jayce’s emotions fiercely sparks through Viktor’s chest like acid, vile in his throat, unwelcome. Viktor starts loathing the panic and fear that is not his. Before there had been a sense of relief—a quiet pleasure knowing he could feel his mate’s emotions.
Now?
Now he can’t be bothered. Perturbed by the thought of any part of Jayce being inside of him without consent, without ask. Even the potential pup he was sure he was carrying is unwelcome.
Those words from long ago come back, stealing his breath away: “For some reason or another, the other council members convinced them I was the best match for you.”
All fucking lies.
He wants to rip that mating bond from his neck until he’s left helplessly bleeding on the floor. Wants to erase his from Jayce’s achingly beautiful brown skin.
“Viktor, it is not what you think—“
“—Viktor, let Jayce explain—“
“I am tired!” Viktor snaps, accent heavy and punching every syllable like shrapnel, “of being treated less than. As if I am not an equal. Jayce and I sit on a scale as equals yet it always tips in his favor.” The disappointment he’s seething with shakes his shoulders. It breaks his very being and soul. Burning so deep within him it warps his perception of space and time.
He takes a deep steadying breath, runs a hand through his hair, “I don’t care about this treaty. I don’t value other people’s happiness over my own any more. Jayce, you have one chance to explain this and it better be fucking convincing or I’ll leave you—“
“You will do no such thing!” Jayce instantly stands, voice booming, palms slamming on the desk’s surface so hard it makes Viktor flinch when it rattles. He quickly marches up to Viktor, closing the meager distance in three strides. Grabs a firm hold of Viktor’s wrist. “If you think you’ll leave me—that I’ll let you walk away from me—“
“Jayce!” Mel admonishes, the shock of the action evident in her face. “Is that any way to act around your mate?”
Viktor was tired. Depleted.
Of course.
Of course Jayce is still this man.
Pained, Viktor’s gaze sets firmly on Jayce’s angry one. Jaw tight from trying to hold back the tears.
“Don’t worry, Mel. Moving forward, I have no mate,” Viktor says, a coldness in his voice that not even the Frejlord’s worst storm could rival. He sees the momentary panic settle on Jayce’s eyes as Viktor yanks his hand free and walks away. While Viktor knows he can’t outrun him, he still needed to move. Needed to remove himself from the situation his parents put him in.
Why Viktor? Why did he have to be put in the middle of this?
“Viktor, wait. Please let me explain!”
“I only ever wanted honesty from you, Jayce,” Viktor chokes out, moving towards the wing where his room is, past the stairwell, past a few onlookers. Jayce follows, attempting to stop him by the arm but Viktor just keeps walking.
Jayce grabs his wrist again but Viktor yanks it harder, as if it burned.
Viktor didn’t care if anyone saw them nor if his family bared witness to this humiliation. Let them see. Let them watch the results of what they sold him into.
Viktor wanted to take back control of his life. Since the beginning, Jayce had called the shots. Since way before he even knew the man, apparently.
Viktor gasps, the pain in his heart not subsiding. Angry tears hot on his cheek.
And there it is again, pounding in his head like a melody he couldn’t shake off—
“For some reason or another, the other council members convinced them I was the best match for you,” let the Gods damn those stupid words. Why do they keep repeating in his head?
He bursts through the door to his room, Jayce following suit behind him.
“I am leaving you, Jayce.”
“You can’t do that,” Jayce says, frantic, desperate. Fiery scent growing faint. “You can’t.”
“I can and I will.”
“The treaty—“
“Fuck the damn treaty. I’m tired of having my life be dictated by outside forces that make me feel as if I have no control,” his eyes well up again, points a finger at Jayce. “I will no longer remain on my knees for you and beg for crumbs. Nor—“ he chokes back a sob “—nor to be made to feel like I don’t matter. I matter, Jayce. I fucking matter. Me. Viktor matters!”
Then, because Viktor’s truly, utterly broken, “Why am I not enough for you to be honest with me?”
The alcohol buzzing through his system is making him more emotional. Or maybe it was the pup growing inside him. His head spins and he’s exhausted.
“Viktor—“ Jayce pauses, takes a breath, “—baby, please. Let me… let me explain.”
“So you can manipulate the narrative, Jayce? Aren’t you tired? Of pretending? I’m so tired,” he spits out, a humorless laugh escaping his lips, broken and bitter.
For the first time in a long time, Viktor begins to contemplate his mortality. Things would be so much easier if he just ceased to exist, wouldn’t they? He never asked to be brought into this God forsaken world. There’s nothing here for him. His family gave him away to a delusional alpha without batting an eye. Viktor was alone.
Truly alone.
“Viktor, no. Don’t cry. Don’t cry,” Jayce brings him into a hug, cradling his head to his warm chest and Viktor hates that he’s comforted by it. That he’s actually finding some comfort in the embrace of the one who damaged him beyond repair. As if he hadn’t been the cause of all his distress. “I did what I had to do to have you.”
“Then why treat me like shit?”
There was no better way to say it.
“You could’ve properly courted me, kept your space, made me fall for you the right way. Yet—yet…” he trails off, sobbing into the chest in front of him. Burying his face there, not giving a damn about ruining the fabric. “You took without regard to my wishes.”
“I was stupid. I handled it all wrong. I didn’t—I didn’t know what to do when you wouldn’t submit—“
Viktor pushes him away at that, anger flaring in his chest, “submission, Jayce? Is this what all of this is about? Submission is what you wanted!?”
“No, V—“
“I foolishly thought that maybe you wouldn’t be so bad. That the worst thing that could happen to me was to spend my nights alone in an empty bed. Thought that maybe, just fucking maybe, we could live in quiet solitude and not get in each other’s way,” Viktor laughs again, empty and broken and bitter and everything he was reeling with in the innards of his heart.
“But then I was passed on to you!” His voice is rough, loud. “As if I were a thing to be easily traded. Given away to a man who wanted a fucking obedient dog and when I didn’t fall in line? When I didn’t fall in line—he broke me.”
The disappointment in his voice is as clear as water, anger palpable as they stare at each other. The rapid beating of his heart won’t slow down. The ache in his heart and leg quickly growing without proper support. His cane lays on the floor, forgotten somewhere in the room.
“Am I a joke to you?”
“Clearly not, Vik. Gods, baby, no—“
“You’re so self absorbed. So deep into your ego and the politics of it all that you don’t know what loving someone truly looks like. Hell, you wouldn’t know it even if it sat on your lap and broke open for you.”
Jayce’s eyes harden. “Because you do?”
Viktor stumbles back, the back of his feet hitting the bed. He sits on it unceremoniously. Being close to Jayce was maddening. A defeated sigh falls from his lips, eyes settling on Jayce’s left pauldron. Staring at Jayce’s face would just break him further, so he doesn’t.
He gives up.
“I know it’s not supposed to feel like wondering if you’ll change for me. Nor like missed chances or broken pieces mended together with lack of care by a man who doesn’t give a damn about you,” Viktor whispers, shoulders drooping. “I know it’s not supposed to be made up of false pretenses nor nights left alone, wondering what you did to deserve this type of treatment. Wondering why you’re not enough for your mate. Or begging to be seen when your heart is cast in shadows and uncertainty.”
At Jayce’s silence, Viktor’s eyes shift to his. The pain on Jayce’s face catches him by surprise, but he can’t find the will to care. The fight has left Viktor.
“I, uhm—I give up,” he says with wobbly lips and trembling eyes. A dejected chuckle. A sniffle.
Jayce doesn’t say anything, just stares. The silence is deafening.
The shadows win. There’s no light to erase all the pain nor does Jayce care enough to be honest with him. The one flicker of hope that could’ve cast out the darkness. If he had said all this, been straight up since the beginning, Viktor would have found it endearing. Romantic, even.
To have someone go to such lengths just to capture his attention—holy hell, call him stupid and pathetic, a hopeless romantic, but he found that so damn endearing. He loved that possessiveness Jayce had and he loved being taken care of by the alpha in front of him.
But Jayce hadn’t been honest. Hadn’t been doting on him the way he had these past few days.
Viktor had given him a chance to come clean and he didn’t take advantage of it.
The deceit of it all is what pains him.
Jayce drops to his knees, Viktor maintains his vacant eyes on him, hollow. Chest heavy, cold and indifferent to Jayce’s plight.
“V, I’ll make it right.”
Viktor feels numb.
“I will spend the rest of my days making it right. Please, just…” Jayce swallows, grabs Viktor’s cold and limp hands, “just give me another chance.”
No. No more chances. Not for someone who only loves him when Vikto’s checked out.
“Okay,” Viktor says, his voice foreign. Distant to his own ears. Static in the background of his mind.
Jayce’s eyes dilate, “really?”
“Sure,” Viktor responds. Still numb, faking it. Sure that Jayce could feel the emptiness through their bond. It buzzes with silence. With the twisted hollow of what once was alive and thriving, now silent and broken.
“Uhm, do you mind giving me some time? I, uh, need to freshen up. My parents are waiting downstairs. Catch up, yeah?”
There’s a flicker of relief in Jayce’s eyes before he stands, fixing his slacks and straightening his top. He leans down to press a kiss on Viktor’s forehead. The warm press of his lips only makes Viktor’s resolve stronger.
So he lets Jayce kiss him even as it tastes of betrayal and deceit. Lets Jayce believe that things are okay even as he didn’t want another minute—another second—of this farce.
There’s no one to save him but himself.
It’s only him now.
Him and this—this—
This innocent life growing inside of him.
No one else will save them.
As soon as the door shuts behind Jayce, Viktor stands and sets to work.
Sets to do what he should’ve done long ago.
ʚஐɞ
Viktor had hurled the small bag and cloak over the balcony of his bedroom. It landed in the bush below his balcony with a somewhat dull thud. He had grabbed some coins from Jayce’s hidden coffer in the floorboards of his study and tucked it away in the bag along with two changes of clothes.
Making sure to act normal and greet guests when needed as he made his way to the front. Smiling, laughing loud and hollow once—even if his heart was pounding like a war drum in his chest with his resolve.
He was counting on Jayce being too busy with his parents to notice he was missing. To be distracted long enough for his lie to hold.
Everyone was preoccupied with the festivities in the back, leaving the front portion unattended. Two enforcers he knew as Loris and the other, Steb, had rotated watch and were now standing by the open front door.
If he was going to do this, he needed to execute it right. His nerves were on edge. When he pushed open the double doors, making sure to stay out of sight from the dining area, he did his best to sound convincing. Mustered all the courage he had into his voice.
“There are two drunken guests acting out by the maze,” Viktor says directly to Loris, afraid that if he looks at Steb, he’ll break. “Please go tend to it.”
Loris stands taller, back straight, sounding serious but not directly acknowledging him, “I am afraid we have been instructed to stand watch here.”
Viktor scoffs in fake bravado, “do not make my husband get involved, enforcer. He’s far more intimidating than I am.”
Loris mulls the words over in his head, jaw clenched. He stares Viktor down over his nose and, with a nod, agrees. “I can handle it. Steb—stay.”
Oh no. Viktor needed to do this alone. The bag and cloak were just a few feet from the door.
After Loris leaves, Steb eyes him with a soft curiosity before signing, “your bag?” He flicks his wrist, pointing in the direction it had landed. “Not sneaky.”
Viktor sighs because of course Steb knows. So, he firmly grasps Steb’s hands, voice low and sharp and desperate, “don’t tell anyone. If you really are my friend, you will keep this a secret.”
Steb swallows, scales near his pretty eyes fluttering in understanding as he nods. Viktor lets go and quickly walks over to the place his getaway items had been thrown.
Steb follows close behind. As Viktor slips on the blue cloak and wrestles the bag from the stubborn branches, heart in his throat, Steb only hovers with a clear resolve in his features.
He doesn’t need to speak to know what he’s going to ask.
“Absolutely not. Jayce will kill you,” Viktor says matter of fact.
“Protection,” he insists.
But Viktor has an inkling feeling it is not protection, rather what lies underneath Steb’s hopes. He contemplates it. Would it be so bad to have some company? He didn’t know where he was going, just knew he had to get away.
Staring at Steb, he’s reminded of the mornings they shared together, of the often times Viktor would sneak him some of his baked goodies, of the intense gaze Steb always regarded him with. Steb, who’d help him that day he had walked out of the bath house, naked and angry.
Dithering, he is firmly clenching and unclenching the strap of his bag as if it had all the answers. Time was a dangerous thing and not on his side. Jayce would go and check on him soon. He stands there, Steb sure of himself and ready to make a run for it with him. The only sound is the distant music and the blood rushing to his head from the adrenaline.
The wind rustles his hair, a cold reminder that he had wasted too much time already.
“Fine,” he finally breathes. And Steb wastes no time, grabs Viktor’s bag. “We need to get a carriage.”
“Talis carriage by gate,” Steb quickly signs. Viktor nods, trailing behind the Vastaya. Every cell in his omega body is screaming at him to stay, that his alpha will not be happy, but he is tired of succumbing to his instincts and to fate’s cruel claws.
It was time for him to write his own story.
It is then that he hears Jayce’s voice, piercing the silence of the night like a gunshot.
“Viktor?!”
The voice has him momentarily halting, blood like ice in his stomach, staring back at the open balcony windows from the bedroom he had called his own. He knows he shouldn’t look, knows it’s precious time wasted, yet he does it anyway.
Panicked gold meets seething hazel from the distance. An icy current travels down his spine. It was fight or flight and almost immediately he bolts. As best as his aching leg will allow him to.
Behind him, he hears a loud “fuck!” that has him rushing his wobbly steps. Hands shaking, heart in his throat, he tells Steb to move faster.
“Steb! Go—fucking go!”
Each stride is painful but certain, filled with purpose.
They go past the large fountain dominating the front of the mansion, past a few opulent carriages from the guests, lined up as if to showcase their riches. The few people lingering about give them quizzical looks, recognizing him for who he is—Jayce’s mate.
Ignoring the curious glances, he marches on.
Quickly, they reach the open gates and the Talis carriage. Boots slapping against stone.
Coincidentally, he recognizes the forest green carriage standing beside it. His family’s crest on the door stares back at him like a cruel joke. He recognizes Finn, lean and sharp eyed, at the reins, ever the loyal pet that he was. Viktor figures he would be more conspicuos with his family’s carriage.
“We are taking my family’s carriage, Steb. Green one!” Viktor barks to Steb, not slowing down one bit even if his leg begins to burn from the pain.
If his family is able to leave him with someone like Jayce, then they’ll make do without their ride. They could walk for all he cared.
“Finn, no time, we need to leave,” Viktor says in a rush, catching him by surprise and startling the horses. Out of the corner of his eyes, he notices Steb pull something from his pocket and march over to the Talis ride with purpose. No rider in sight to stop whatever he was doing.
Finn, wide eyed, blows the black hair from his face and nods with a toothy grin, “still barking orders instead of saying hello, I see.”
“Finn,” he snaps.
“Fine! Get in.”
That’s what he liked about Finn. No questions asked, always did as he was told. One of his father’s favorite goons, coming in handy.
He hears Jayce call out his name again. A little too close for comfort. Steb throws Viktor’s bag into the carriage, hopping in and holding his hand out to Viktor, who is immediately yanked in by his wrist.
“Viktor!”
His heart plummets into that hopeless despair he had come to know like the back of his hand these past six months.
The way the carriage was positioned, he had a clear view of the mansion. Jayce is sprinting, fury painted in his handsome features. Every step devouring distance like a hound who had sniffed blood. Panicked, Viktor shouts at Finn to “Go!”
He hears Finn mumble something under his breath and the horses neighing as he grips the straps. The horses rear, carriage wheels screeching as they lurch forward.
“Viktor don’t you dare!” Jayce roars, voice raw, clawing through air. Seething with unmasked anger.
With shaky hands, he eyes the cobblestone road that leads from the mansion to the gates and sees Jayce booking it. The gates are only meters away—but so is Jayce.
Arms pumping, fangs bared.
Oh Janna. Oh no.
Oh no.
For a moment he wonders if he’s making the right decision. Hesitating not because is what he wants, but because the cost of getting caught is a dangerous unknown. But staying is no longer living, so he sticks to his choice regardless of the consequences.
The carriage is moving and their eyes remain locked. Steb places a comforting hand on his shoulder but Jayce is gaining.
Viktor doesn’t acknowledge Steb, fixated on the alpha quickly closing the gap.
Eyes owlishly wide, he watches as if in slow motion as Jayce finally lunges, keeping pace with them. The horses pick up speed, move past the gates, Viktor freezes just as Jayce’s fingers are curling on the velvet curtain—
And barely misses.
“¡Maldita sea!” He snarls in his mother tongue, carriage yanking away just as his grip slips.
“You owe me big time, Vik!” Finn yells from outside.
Viktor doesn’t respond. Can’t speak.
He knows Jayce isn’t the type of man to let something, or someone, go that easily. Least of all someone he’s marked as his.
Even as he allows himself a momentary respite, it is short lived as it curdles when he dares to look back at the father of his future pup.
Jayce is pulling a horse from the Talis carriage and climbing on it with the grace that is expected of him. Muscles coiling with fluid precision—ruthless, beautiful, powerful.
“Steb,” Viktor turns to Steb, voice sharp, eyes narrowing, “what did you do with the horses?”
Steb winces, “cut reins from carriage.”
“You what?” Viktor pales.
It wouldn’t have been a problem if Jayce had decided to give chase in the carriage. But no, of course not. Of course he was giving chase in one single horse. A lone rider would always be faster.
“No, no, no. He’s going to kill you,” he is truly panicking now. It settles in his chest like a storm that not even Janna herself could placate.
Steb gives him a sad smile, eyes dark but steady, “I will protect you.”
But Viktor is heaving, eyes locked on his trembling hands. He fucked up. The spots in his vision are telling of the oncoming panic attack as it dims at the edges. The impending meltdown he’s about to go through has his chest tightening.
It happens then—he hears the quick galloping. The hooves pounding, hammering, on the ground.
Too close. Too soon. Too quick.
With bated breath, he watches as Jayce appears on horse next to him. His white coat rustling in the wind like a cape. A makeshift gun glowing blue in one extended hand. Was that Hextech powered? It seemed almost like a prototype, but functional.
“No!“ Viktor gasps.
Jayce aims it at one of the lead horses and shoots. The shot is almost silent, a buzz cutting through the air as the gun glows bright blue and the burst of energy erupts like lightning.
Jayce’s aim is deadly. The horse protests and falls mid-gallop.
Immediately, the carriage shakes violently, rattles, and the wheels scream. The structure swerves to the left and then sharply to the right before it flips over from the sudden loss in momentum.
It rolls once.
Bodies collide. It’s all limbs, knees and heads hitting each other, bumping and sure to bruise later. His panicked screams are swallowed by the chaos of it all.
Then it rolls again and all Viktor knows is more limbs, more pain. The world spins and buckles and then an eerie silence ensues.
Viktor coughs and groans in pain, notices Steb had wrapped him in a protective embrace so he took the brunt of the damage. He lays on top of him, covering Viktor’s head. A deep gash on his forehead that has blood as blue as his eyes bathing the both of them.
“You idiot,” Viktor coughs, eyes welling up at how much Steb cares.
But Jayce is just getting started.
He hears more than sees the carriage door being yanked open. The crack of it shattering against the side panel loud in the silence of the night. Feral hazel lands on defeated gold—unhinged and burning. He watches as he yanks Steb out by the back of his neck like a rabid dog catching its prey. Steb flails, twisting in mid air,
grabbing a firm hold of Jayce’s wrist, scratching, but not attempting anything else. Too weak to do anything else.
Once again, the raw power Jayce displays has Viktor’s stomach doing flips. How twisted for his omega instincts to purr at the sight.
“Stop!” Viktor lurches forward on trembling feet.
He searches for his cane, finds it, before brusquely being yanked out, albeit more gently, by the same hands that pulled Steb out. With more restraint, more controlled anger, but still firm as he shoves him back against the flipped carriage. His cane clatters to the ground as his feet stumble to try to find purchase.
“Jayce, please—“
“Shut up!” Jayce snarls, ripped right out of his throat, making the air vibrate. It makes Viktor flinch as Jayce paces back to where Steb now lies unconscious. Hextech gun cocked at his bleeding temple. A trail of blue blood leads to him like a road to chaos.
This is all Viktor’s fault. He can’t hear Finn, either, and the horses had gotten loose and ran away, free.
Unlike him.
His stomach plummets when he notices the muzzle of the Hextech gun glowing blue, “no. Don’t!”
His breath hitches, fear pounding in his ribs.
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t,” Jayce growls, teeth bared in a fierce snarl. “And I won’t.”
Jayce is manic. A rabid animal giving itself away to its nature. Nostrils flared, eyes blown wide. Gun directly pointed at Steb an extension of his fury.
“You were going to leave me for him?!”
“I was going to leave alone! He tagged along for protection. Please, don’t hurt him. Please!” Viktor begs, dropping to his knees. The cold dark ground seeping into the marrow of his bones as the tears fall as free as rain down his cheeks. Jayce levels the gun and it buzzes with that sickening blue light once more.
Jayce’s expression is unreadable now, but the gun is hot.
Viktor hiccups, now ugly crying. Snot trailing down his lips.
Jayce laughs then, sardonic, cruel, “like I give a damn.”
As clear as the skies on a hot summer day, Viktor could see what was about to happen. His chest constricts, time slows. He is speaking before he knows what he is saying.
“I’m pregnant!” He says as a final attempt to save Steb, to distract Jayce long enough to placate his anger.
Jayce pauses, aim faltering and hitting the ground next to Steb’s head, effectively missing. Smoke rises from there, a black spot left in its wake.
Time suspends.
A break, a quick sigh, a brief flood of relief through his already broken body and soul. Viktor stands, wobbly, weak, in more pain than he’s ever been. A baby deer taking its first steps. Heavily leaning on his cane.
Approaching Jayce with the care of a prey trying to appease its predator. He steps into the lion’s den, into the confusion of Jayce’s state. A slow, dangerous dance as he comes to stand in front of him, close enough to touch. To feel.
The gun’s blue glow fades.
Now close enough to breathe him in—to breathe in the acrid fire—to carefully grasp the large hand holding the gun. Slowly, so very slowly, he places his smaller hand on top of Jayce’s. Guiding the hand down with the gentleness of a caress. Jayce allows him to take it and Viktor lets it fall to the ground with a heavy thud that makes Viktor wince.
Viktor dares to tap into their bond, unable to read the look on Jayce’s face, and feels the uncertainty, the shock.
“I—“ Viktor croaks, heart beating deep in his throat, “I did not want to accept it. But conversing with my fathers confirmed my suspicions… I am carrying your legacy.”
Jayce’s eyes widen. Then he blinks once. Twice—thoroughly in disbelief. Viktor entwines their fingers together. This time moving them to his stomach, to connect instead of to disarm. The giddiness that washes over Viktor from the bond is not entirely his, but foreign. Strange as it courses through his body like it’s his own, but not really. Something electrifying. Terrifying at the same time. Hopeful, even.
The deluge of emotions are like a dangerous roulette. Waves ferociously crashing against jagged rocks.
And then—
It curdles. Like spoiled milk, it settles.
Jayce’s disbelief turns into smoldering resentment just as his grip begins to painfully tighten, features hardening, gaze becoming dark with an avarice Viktor was all too familiar with. A known possessiveness that once excited him—still does, Gods he’s so fucked up in the head—now sending shivers down his spine.
“You were going to abandon me,” his voice is sharp, cutting through the thick miasma of Viktor’s foggy brain. Like teeth digging into sensitive flesh.
“I had to. You are never going to give me the one thing I crave the most.”
Jayce is staring down at him over his nose, rigid. His piercing hazel eyes like a vine wrapped around his throat.
“Jayce, I had to find out the truth by eavesdropping,” Viktor whispers, voice cracked, raw with pain. “I just wanted honesty.”
Jayce chokes back a breath.
Quiet. Too quiet and intense.
A few moments pass—
And then, finally, the silence splinters.
Jayce steps forward, slow and stricken, as if afraid to scare Viktor away. Viktor, transfixed, watches as Jayce’s hand rises. Jayce grasps his neck. Not with force or anger. There’s no roughness, no demands being made, just a neediness that is too grand to name—the one he had learned to adapt to. To be persuaded with.
Jayce’s thumb brushes the sharp outline of his jaw, pulling him closer. Their foreheads barely touch, making Viktor stand on his tippy toes to close the distance. Their proximity intoxicating even now. Breaths ghosting over each other’s faces. Hearts stuttering. The raw vulnerability there unmistakable.
“Don’t ever try that again.”
It is not a threat. Rather, a broken plea. Don’t leave me again.
Viktor sees him for what he is then: human. Fragile. The doe like eyes that stare back at him are scared. Mortified. He sees the wreckage behind those eyes. The innocent child behind the conniving politician.
Something clicks in his brain then.
Jayce wasn’t cruel. He was terrified.
And that terror had sharp claws.
Jayce was scared. He didn’t know how to properly give voice to that fear, so he lashed out. He understood that he was truly scared of losing Viktor.
Viktor’s chest tightens for the umpteenth time that night.
“I need time, Jayce.”
Jayce’s breath stutters, “you said that earlier… and here we are.”
“I mean it this time. I—I won’t run away again,” Viktor inches his head back enough to breathe. “But I need time away from you. With my family. I need to breathe. To be free of what we… of what we have become so that we may have a fresh slate.”
Jayce’s jaw tightens, leaning forward to close the distance. The words clearly gut him. His forehead drops to Viktor’s shoulder, his lips brushing against Viktor’s slender neck. Trying to be understanding but unable to budge.
“No, Viktor. No.”
“I will come back,” Viktor says, firm and unwavering. “But you have to trust me enough to let me go, Jayce.”
“I… I can’t, V,” the grip on his throat loosens, settles on his waist. Each syllable Jayce speaks is painted with heartbreak. “Do not ask me to willingly watch you walk away. Ask me to do anything but that. Specially now that I know you’re carrying our baby. Please.”
“Jayce,” Viktor says gently, “you must give me space.”
Like a beggar asking for handouts, Jayce cracks. As if his spine had crumbled in on itself, he drops to his knees on the cold ground. Arms sliding down Viktor’s sides, ending on his jutting hips. Gripping him there with unnecessary force, afraid to let go. Staring up at Viktor like he was Jayce’s God and him his humble servant.
Pressing his ear to Viktor’s stomach, to the life beginning in between them, Jayce sighs and inhales, deep but uncontrolled. In and out. In and out. In and out. On the verge of breaking—no, already broken. Breathes him in as if it is the last time he’ll see him. As if it’s the last time he’ll see the sun.
Jayce’s voice breaks, hoarse, splintering, “I’m—I’m—I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Pl-pl-please. I’ll—I’ll stay away. I’ll give you space. Just don’t leave my sight. I-I need you. I can live without air, but I can’t live without you.”
They stay there.
One standing, one kneeling, for what feels like the edge of forever. Statues in the ruins of their chaotic relationship.
For once, it is not fear nor rage that holds them together. Rather, the deep ache of understanding and, in a twisted way, an affection that Jayce understands as love and Viktor…
Accepted.
Notes:
ʚஐɞHow To Disappear Completely by Radiohead
Or how not to 🫣 (sorry!!)
I know I said we may possibly have two more chapters but it will definitely be more. Jayce needs a redemption arc high key.This chapter was a bit hard to write for me. Feeling like you're not enough for someone can stir up chaotic decisions. You lose sense of yourself and well… you feel utterly broken. I know some of you have been pointing out the hurt/no comfort tag but that’s because that’s what is going on right now in the story. Viktor is not getting any comfort aside from his friends.
If you follow me on X then you know I’m the ultimate JayVik lover. Jayce will get his karma, though. MWHAHA.
Check out my other fic: Professor Talis Has Logged Off 🤭 Not everyone’s cup of tea, but give it a shot :D
Chapter 11: No Me Enseñaste
Summary:
Jayce feels the regret and Viktor’s absence.
Notes:
ʚஐɞSongs on repeat: No Me Enseñaste by Thalia. Medicine by Daughter. Televangelism as well as Lilies by Ethel Cain.
ʚஐɞNot much dialogue here. Just Jayce going through the motions. Setting up for next chapter. There is violence at the beginning. Just FYI
ʚஐɞCW: Depression without directly saying it
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
There was a hollow feeling inside Viktor that nothing could fill.
He found himself not knowing what to do. Teetering on the edge of wanting to bolt and wanting to stay.
Jayce had withdrawn into himself after the chase. Viktor had pushed him away in order to go check on Steb, make sure that he was okay. When he had looked back at Jayce, the man remained kneeling on the ground, arms slacked on his sides with a faraway look on his face.
It had been clear that no one was home.
Further investigation of the scene revealed Finn crushed under the carriage. Its dilapidated remains an eerie image Viktor was numb to. The morbid state in which those vacant eyes stared off to the side, the light no longer there. The guilt something he couldn’t quite yet process.
The Talis mansion was far away enough from the main town that there were no buildings around. Just trees, shrubbery, and the cobblestone road that led to it.
Viktor had just blankly stared and started limping away.
And limping.
And limping...
Each step a cruel reminder that he had always been defective. Susceptible to life’s misfortunes.
And so the rhythm of his gait faltered until his spine, too, collapsed in on itself and he crumbled onto the cold cobblestone ground beneath him. The pain in his knee had never been this bad, white-hot and unbearable. He’d probably need to have the bolts on his spine adjusted, head would need to be checked for a concussion. Every inch of his body examined. Reduced to malfunctions for someone else to attempt to fix.
Not that he wasn’t used to the clinical setting. He had grown up in it, after all. The smell of latex and that of a sterile setting forever ingrained in his brain, clinging to him like a second skin. Being prodded, measured—inspected as if he were a faulty machine—was not an unknown to him.
There was no comfort there. Only the cruel familiarity that no matter how far away he limped, he would always end up on that table.
Then—
Not to mention the life growing inside him.
It crushed him. The possibility of losing something he didn’t even know existed until about an hour ago.
He clutched at his stomach—not even a bump there yet—and stared off into the dark sky above him.
So pretty, so captivating. Unassuming of what had just transpired below its inky beauty.
Allowing exhaustion and pain to whisk him away into the darkness of his mind, instead, was easy.
At least pain was something he knew how to survive.
ʚஐɞ
Jayce fucked up. Not a minor stumble—a major, royal fuck up. Coming clean to Viktor should’ve been the first thing he had done. Treat the wound before it turned septic. Instead, he had let it fester and rot in the shadows of his mind. Had let it weave itself into the cracks of their already fragile and shaky foundation.
So now he kneels there. In the aftermath of his chaotic short comings. In a wreckage of his own making. Viktor had pushed him aside to check on Steb, the hollow feeling left behind unbearable—the rejection from Viktor, that why are you checking on him and not me? feeling. That quiet choice of not him.
Crazy, right? Jayce still expected Viktor to stay after everything he had done…
A part of him—small, minute—felt a pull of regret at what he had done to Steb, but it was eclipsed by something darker. Terror. The kind that clawed at his ribs and churned in his stomach.
The thought of Viktor leaving never crossed his mind. It was a possibility, a variable, that had remained constant to him. The certainty that Viktor would remain by his side in spite of everything he had done or anything he would do was instilled so deep in his bones, that he never thought…
Fuck.
Viktor, who had endured his failings, his temper, his arrogance. Viktor, who never let go in spite of it all.
Regret blooms. Ugly, relentless. A thorn in his chest. Unable to breathe past it.
His instincts weren’t betraying him, they had been right. The urge to be clingy and soft with his omega had been strong as of late. The need to shield and hold him so close to his arms that Viktor would forget the rest of the world existed had been stronger. Viktor smelled sweeter, more alluring—like home. Jayce wanted to drown in it forever.
Time passes, thick and unforgiving, and he remains a seething statue carved out of regret. His muscles ached, but he didn’t move. Afraid that if he did, it’d make the reality of Viktor’s absence more permanent.
Viktor had disappeared Janna knows where, leaving behind the shadow of his retreat. Wanting to put some distance between them, creating space Jayce didn’t want to give. If Jayce’s regret hadn’t withered in his throat, he would’ve begged him to stay. As it was, Jayce couldn’t blame him, he’d be doing the same.
What could he do?
Viktor had asked for Jayce to trust that he’d come back. Such simple words. Such simple faith. But the gnawing feeling in his stomach told him otherwise. It strangled all faith—the terror of losing him forever. That he’d leave and never come back. But the reality of losing Viktor inches closer, wrapping around his throat like a snake and reminding him with each shallow breath of the consequences of his actions, that losing Viktor wasn’t a nightmare he could just wake from.
Jayce wants to silence all of it. Those insecurities belonged to the old him. The old, naïve him that believed in other’s benevolence.
The old him that… mirrored… Viktor…
It starts raining, but the rain doesn’t wet his hair. It trails down his cheeks and beard and down his collar.
A wracked sob claws its way out from somewhere, deep and guttural.
Almost like it came from Jayce but it sounds far away in his ears.
The rain won’t stop. It remains heavily in his eyes. Burns behind his lashes. And when Jayce places a trembling hand against his cheek, he realizes it’s not rain at all… it’s him.
But no—Jayce Talis doesn’t cry.
Jayce Talis has not cried in years. Not since he wore the mantle of a Councilor.
Jayce Talis doesn’t break.
Jayce Talis is the Man of Progress, Creator of Hextech and the Hexgates.
Jayce Talis is all alpha man…
Jayce Talis doesn’t cry—
No—Jayce Talis…
Jayce Talis…
Jayce Talis is… crying. Breaking down. Crumbling onto the cold, damp earth beneath him. His vision is narrowing into black. Uneven breaths escaping his lungs.
For the first time in years, Jayce Talis is hit with the possibility that this is the end, that he has no faith in himself to fix it.
And he can’t breathe. Panic settles on him like a wet blanket. The sense of doom coursing through his body makes his heart beat faster, constricting his chest, drowning him.
It is so grand that he doesn’t register the rough grip that seizes the lapel of his white suit coat until a large hand comes crashing down against his cheek. The blunt force of it as it cracks against his skin is barely enough to register in his mind. To bring him back to reality.
The world steadies for a few seconds—Vander’s blurry face now clear in his line of sight, thunderous with the intent to kill.
Jayce should say something to defend himself. Plead, maybe?
But Jayce didn’t care, did he?
Another punch, this time to his gut. Force so brute it makes him double over, ripping precious air from his lungs. He chokes on saliva and blood, tangy iron coating his tongue. In the haze, the faint screams of a voice—familiar and soft and precious and thick like honey—tumble out ‘No! No! No!’ repeatedly. But it sounds so far away, like it doesn’t quite belong to his current world.
So Jayce, in his delirium, laughs.
The sound manic, cracked. A choked, pained sound that only earns him another punch to the gut, to his face, to his ribs. More blood again. A gash on his cheek splits open. And still—he laughs.
What else is there to lose when he’s already lost the love of his life, which was everything that mattered to him?
“The fuck did you do to my son?!” Vander’s voice is full of rage, shaking Jayce harder than any fists could.
Another punch. Another choked laughter.
The blows rain down. Jayce feels less like a man and more like a vessel with each one. He doesn’t remember Vander’s cinammon scent ever smelling so bitter and charred, as if burnt to ashes, eerily reminiscent of the world collapsing around him. He’s being handled as if he were a ragdoll. His hands instinctively wrap around the thick wrist as if to anchor himself. As if it were not the one of his assailant.
Pain radiates from his left eye, down along his nose, and blooms hot and throbbing in his jaw. His lip is busted, the cut stinging. Sure that he’s looking grotesque and battered, but there’s nothing he can do about it.
Vander lets go and Jayce rolls onto his back. Vander stands looming above him, large, his shadow swallowing Jayce’s frame. And with a strength he never thought an omega could wield, Vander’s boot came barreling down on Jayce’s left knee. The sickening sound of it cracking—breaking as if it were glass—and the pain that accompanied it has a scream ripping from Jayce’s throat, raw, primal, unrestrained.
And then—Jayce laughs again.
The situation is so fucked he can’t do else but laugh. It bubbles out cracked and bloody, choked on spit and iron. His laugh is hideous and garbled—what else is there? The situation is so irredeemable, Jayce doesn’t know what else is left.
Jayce’s vision is shrinking, only seeing the vast blackness of the twinkling sky interrupted by the enraged figure of the large omega.
Imagine that, Jayce Talis—alpha, Man of Progress, Golden Boy, Councilor—being beaten into the dirt by an omega, by hands he would’ve once dismissed. Whatever was left of his pride cowers in a far, unreachable corner.
As Jayce blacks out, he can’t help but think that’s exactly where it should be.
ʚஐɞ
And so Viktor leaves.
There’s no looking back. Even his words of ‘you have to trust me’ don’t leave a shadow of hope.
When Jayce wakes, it is not to warmth or comfort, but the cold sterility of a hospital room. The first thing his mind registers is the weight of the cast running down his leg—a dull, throbbing pain that not even the strongest pain killer could smother. Yet, it feels inconsequential.
Because the second thing that was missing? The ember eyes that would defiantly stare him down. That quiet, steady presence nowhere to be found. So he is unmoored. It leaves an immense sense of loss and hurt in Jayce’s heart that not even his broken leg could compete with.
Unsure of how long it had been since he had been out, Jayce looks to the window. The panoramic view of Piltover’s skyline could be seen from the bed where he lays. The sun is bleeding dry—its umber oranges and reds are perfectly blending into the creeping blue ink of night, bathing the horizon. The world is marching on, without any regards to what had happened. As if Jayce hadn’t just put an end to his life as he knew it. As if his heart hadn’t been broken by his own choices, his own failures. Selfishly, still all about him.
The truth gnaws at him—his life as he knew it is over.
The regret coiling in his stomach has become as natural as the biology of his body. It coursed through his veins and made a permanent home in his brain. It was breathed in through his nose, processed into his lungs, and remained there even after he exhaled it.
If Jayce had another chance…
If Jayce had another chance to make things right—
Before he can finish that thought, the door slides open. He swears he can hear a familiar click and drag of a cane out on the hallway, but it is just his imagination playing tricks on him. The figure that steps through brings him some comfort, but no relief to the crushing weight on his chest.
“Ma,” Jayce’s voice is raw, hoarse from disuse. It breaks around the edges. “¿Dónde está Viktor?”
The question is poised before Ximena even has time to fully process that Jayce is awake. There are bags under her eyes and a forlorn expression curtains her features. Wearing the same blue and black dress from the celebration… the celebration of what was supposed to show a united front, a show of strength.
Ironic how it ended in their split. With Viktor gone. She doesn’t have to say it. He knows.
“Mijo,” Ximena sighs, taking a few hesitant steps to close the distance to his bed. Under the dim gold lightning of the recessed lights, she looks older. Her worry lines more prominent, eyes more droopy, the white in her hair more vivid.
Jayce takes in a shuddering breath—which, ouch, it feels like a brick house is on his chest and he’s breathing through a straw—and realizes that his mom always had his best interest at heart. Always believed in him through his unhinged obsession with Hextech even when it threatened to destroy him, to consume him. Even if she told him to stop after the explosion that nearly took his life. In spite of her testifying before the council, she never stopped believing. She just wanted him to be safe. Only wanted him to slow down enough to reconsider.
And it breaks Jayce further. A lump he can’t will away forms in his throat and his eyes burn with the threat of tears.
“You were always so strong willed,” Ximena murmurs, her voice soft but strained. “Full of wonder. Full of life. I was so proud—so proud—when your ambitions finally bore fruit in spite of my dwindling belief.” Her gaze drifts down to the splint on his leg. Even in the dim light, Jayce can make out the puffiness in her eyes, the red around the tip of her nose. Proof of a sleepless night. Of crying alone.
Her gaze snaps towards Jayce’s blue and red beaten face. His eyes could barely open. Blinking was a strenuous task, a battle of its own.
“So I wonder,” she continues, pain and anger in every word. “Where did I go wrong with you?”
As if Jayce wasn’t already going through an emotional turmoil, her words make his heart sink further. Jayce’s labored breath was loud as he tried to reach for her hand but she withdrew it.
“Viktor told me everything.”
And Jayce can just stare at the ceiling now. The shame renews, icing his veins, scorching down his throat.
“Ma,” Jayce starts, still hoarse. “You didn’t. It was all me. I ruined this. I ruined… him.”
Ximena flinches. The name Jayce doesn’t say hanging heavy in the air between them. “Yet it is me who is here. Watching you run the Talis name to the ground. A name your father fought hard to upkeep. Watching my own son destroy everything he was meant to protect is so disheartening. You need to recapacitar, mijo.”
Jayce doesn’t look at her. The weight of her disappointment fractures something deeper within him. In that moment, he realizes he’s lost the trust of the only other person who has truly never stopped believing in him.
Silence stretches, endless.
When Jayce’s swollen gaze flits back to his mother’s, she is sniffling, pressing a handkerchief to her nose. It was obvious that regardless of how she felt, of how disappointed she was, she had watched over him. And Jayce knows he doesn’t deserve it. He truly, truly knows.
Finally, the silence breaks in the form of a dejected sigh from her. “They’re spinning the whole situation, you know.”
Jayce doesn’t respond. Can’t. Because he knew they would. His titles came with clean press and even cleaner hands. For once, he abhorred it.
“Finn.” She continues. Her voice trembles. “The Council has made it seem as if he were trying to kidnap Viktor.”
Jayce is not stunned one bit at the news. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t move. The world could burn in his hands and Piltover would still twist the ashes to make him look innocent.
“El pobre muchacho…” She whispers, shaking her head.
“They’d paint an innocent man a murderer before they tarnish Piltover’s Golden Boy,” Jayce spits out. Voice low, filled with venom. Fists tightening by his side, nails digging painfully into the tender flesh of his palms. Yet again, he’s saved by his impeccable reputation. He doesn’t deserve none of it.
“Do you even hear yourself, mijo?” Her tone is sharp now, trembling from fury and not from weakness. “Golden Boy.” It is said as if it were a curse. “Do you know what weight those words carry? What shadow they cast over everyone around you?”
“It is not an armor, Jayce. You wear it as if it were one,“ she continues, voice cracking. “Yes, it shields you, but it is a weapon, too. It also destroys others. How many lies have been covered that I do not know about? How many truths buried? How many people have bled just to keep your shine? This cannot be the first time.”
Her voice drops to a whisper, loaded and raw. “And tell me, was Viktor worth it?”
The words spear through him because he knows—he knows that Viktor is worth more than he can even imagine. “Nothing is worth losing Viktor.”
Ximena closes her eyes, tears slipping freely. “Then perhaps now you know that your light, in all its capable tender warmth, can also burn.”
And the words gut him. Hurt more than Vander’s fists had. So he turns his head to the orange bleeding skyline once more, unable to bear her gaze any longer. His chest seizes with that breathlessness again—not the one related to physical pain, but the one telling him he’s about to cry.
For once, he has no defense. No title. Only silence, and the crushing truth that his mother is right. He doesn’t like it. Of course the truth tastes bitter but…
His shattered world crumbles in on itself further.
Jayce swallows once, twice, three times… but the lump in his throat refuses to go down. His breath stutters, ragged, until his vision is blurring again with the emotional pain inside him. It breaks like a dam in a deluge of tears and emotions.
His scent is muted, no longer overpowering the room as it tends to do and…
He sobs.
It starts broken, slowly shuddering out of him until it is being torn from his ribs. He clutches at the sheets beneath his hands, knuckles white from force. Looking for ways to ground himself but nothing works. The grief is a tide, swallowing him whole.
“I love him, Ma.” It is choked out of him by the overwhelming feeling of not having him close. “I—Janna—I love him so much and I ruined everything.”
Ximena’s body shakes with silent sobs of her own. She moves closer to press a hand to his hair. In benediction rather than comfort.
Jayce leans into his mother’s arm, shoulders shaking uncontrollably. Leans into her small frame as she carefully slides in next to him. As if he were a child, she embraces him. Her chamomile scent growing stronger as she holds him.
For the first time in years, the Man of Progress is nothing more than a broken boy, crying in the warmth of his mother’s bosom.
And beneath the pain, humiliation, and the guilt, remains the throbbing ache that no apology, nor invention nor title, could ever dull…
Viktor is gone.
ʚஐɞ
So time crawls. Slow. Bitter.
With it, the vivacity of autumn dies to winter’s cruel hands. The trees stand skeletal and stripped, branches reaching upwards like broken fingers, and Jayce feels just as bare—stripped of warmth and carved out by loss.
Viktor’s absence in the Talis Estate could be felt in every corner, every wall—echoes that reverberate with emptiness. The long stretches of the corridors where Jayce would hear the clicks of Viktor’s cane every morning he passed his study, the silence of the dining hall. No quiet chatter nor breathy laughs.
The room Jayce calls his own feels emptier now. There’s a stillness on the bed, too large for one man. Viktor never got to occupy it again or make a nest of it.
Then there is Viktor’s room, untouched and preserved, gathering dust. At Jayce’s orders, no one had dared moved a thing. The outfit he wore that night he decided to walk out lies discarded on the floor, a ghost creeping in time. Red and blue blood stains mar the white fabric of his shirt. It had of course long dried up but it didn’t stop it from reminding him of the body that once occupied it.
Jayce had gone there once, on the first week he had come back from the hospital. His body still weak, his crutches awkward to handle, he had shuffled down the hall and pushed into the room. The familiar scent that surrounded him as he greedily took in deep inhales of it was as comforting as it was damning. He hadn’t lasted long in his supposed composure. Unable to bear the consequences of his actions, he had collapsed on the bed, where the smell of vanilla and fire and sweet milk were most heavily concentrated. He had pressed his face into the pillows, desperate to find a warmth that no longer was there.
In that heavy moment, Jayce realized that some ghosts don’t fade. They linger, they suffuse the air, the walls, the very fabric of his being. Reminders of what once was and may never come back.
Minutes blurred into hours, hours blurred into longer stretches of time. And still, Jayce laid there. Not caring that it was time for his next round of pain medicine, that his body was mercilessly begging for some relief—unsure whether it was begging for the physical or emotional kind. He remained there, as if it would will Viktor into existence. As if Viktor would hear his cries, take pity on him, and walk through that heavy oak door.
Did he feel their bond shaking with the need to renew it? Did he, too, scratch at his mating bond until it was left raw and aching? As if it would quell the need to have him close? Did he miss Jayce at all? Was his heart calling for Jayce the same way his was calling for Viktor? Was he still broken, or had the distance been enough to heal what Jayce had handled carelessly?
What can he do when the person he wants, doesn’t want him at all?
His mom had found him there, unmoving—tear stained cheeks, eyes red and swollen, carrying an abundance of grief the likes he had never felt before. She called his name, patted his back gently, but Jayce barely stirred.
His alpha instincts were eerily quiet, eerily absent. He felt… empty.
Sleep wouldn’t come to him. When it did, it turned into horrid nightmares where Vander haunted his dreams. Viktor’s voice fading into something distorted, as if it belonged to a machine. Jayce would wake up startled, chest heaving, and sweaty, as if he were still being beaten… still being left behind.
His bruises faded into yellow patches, then went away completely. But the doctors were clear with him, told him he’d need to wear a leg brace for the rest of his life. A small price to pay, really. A scar well deserved.
Piltover moved on from the incident. Truly believing what had been fed to them in a pretty package. And Jayce, Piltover’s Golden Boy, was left to rot in the chaotic truth of it all.
The man that stared back at him in the mirror was not the Man of Progress, not the face that Piltover happily plastered on posters and the Council seat. Now his hair was longer and greasy. For he no longer cared to trim that curtain. His beard was thicker, patchy, and unkempt. Wrinkles carved themselves on his face from stress. Sleepless nights painted in his eyes.
Jayce Talis had become a monument of heartbreak. A ruin of himself.
ʚஐɞ
December stumbled in and skipped to the end in the blink of an eye for everyone else. But to Jayce, it felt like the seconds were an eternity crammed into ticks of time where he waited for Viktor. For any sign, any proof, that him and their baby were okay.
Out of respect ,and in a fragile attempt to give Viktor what he had asked for, Jayce didn’t search for him. He knew where he was tucked away in Zaun, but he forced himself to listen for once. Forced himself to believe that distance is what Viktor truly wanted.
The hollow in his chest remained, made deeper by Viktor’s continued radio silence. Jayce filled that silence with letters, blotched with tears and smeared ink.
The nights are long. The days are blurring together. The monotony of you being gone doesn’t help me assimilate. I can’t properly breathe without you. I’m sorry.
Love,
Jayce.
Things like, when will you be coming back? Are you coming back, or do you still hate me? were often asked in those letters.
Pleas disguised as questions filled the page. His hand hurt from writing them, heart bled from sending them. Sometimes it’d be two a day, sometimes three. But never enough. Not nearly enough.
Before he knows it, his mate’s birthday was around the corner. And he wanted to know—needed to know—how the pregnancy was going. Desperation was etched into his being, he reeked of it.
Jayce realized words are what got him into this mess. It had been the same knife that had cut them apart. This time, he decided to do things differently.
His mom told him he was crazy, that he was hindering the healing process on his leg, but Jayce didn’t care. It was background noise at this point. The pain of living without Viktor far outweighed any of the new physical restraints.
With help from Sky, he was able to drag himself to the forge. With the hot and familiar confines all around him, he set to work.
It was like stepping back into another life. He welcomed it—welcomed the heat, the sweat, the lick of the flames, the ache in his leg. A distraction, a new creation.
Day blurred into night then into day again. The molds of Viktor’s favorite night flower took shape with delicately forced precision. The work flowing faster now that he had a purpose, faster than what his body could keep up with. He could see it clear as day, gleaming and shining in Viktor’s hands. A gift Jayce hoped was worthy enough of the only person to haunt every corner of his being.
It had been three months. The whole first trimester had passed by and Jayce was absent.
It wasn’t enough, what he was doing, but it would be a start to bring Viktor home.
The forge blazed like a second sun, heat licking at his body until he was drenched from head to toe. The throbbing in his leg was felt with every shift of his weight, every hard press down of the hammer. The brace dug into his sensitive flesh but he bore it like a man starved for penance.
Every strike rang out. Echoing through the confines of the forge like a confession. I failed you.
Another strike. Come back to me.
And another one. I don’t deserve you, but I’m sorry. Please take me back.
Sparks flew in the air, prickling his skin as he reshaped the metal with desperation. The hammer in his hand created blisters that he didn’t care for, that he worked through. He welcomed it, needed the pain, the feel of his skin singing and scarring.
His body begged for rest, muscles trembled from strain, breath came out ragged and harsh in his throat. At some point, he caught a fever.
Still, he persevered.
Sky had begged him to stop, to take a respite, but Jayce only shook his head, jaw clenched, eyes fever bright. “Not until it’s perfect,” he had breathed out. “Worthy of him.”
There was only the hammer, the flame, and the weight of his grief pounding into steel.
ʚஐɞ
“Viktor will love these, sir,” Sky had reassured him once he had set the hammer down to cool off.
Jayce was sure that she knew of what had happened. Steb, who was still recovering in the comforts of his own home, was sure to have told her the nitty gritty bits.
Jayce also knew that Viktor and Sky had grown extremely close after the ordeal, of the letters she got that he didn’t. They were perhaps closer than Jayce had any right to be. And though her eyes remained kind, he could feel the judgment there, quiet and unspoken.
Jayce had sank into a nearby chair, massaging the pain away on his leg as he forced a small smile towards Sky. “Do me a favor…”
And so he sent her away along with three boxes worth of light, delicate metalwork—his apology hammered into shape. He watched from the window as one of the Talis carriages disappeared beyond the blue horizon, sure that it’d get there in the morning, just in time for Viktor’s birthday.
Jayce waited.
It was exactly 7:33 in the evening when the first sign of a response came back to him. A letter—thin, deceptively light but heavy with meaning. Drafted not by Viktor, but Sky. Delivered to him by his mother’s weary hand.
Ximena lingered for a moment, chamomile scent a small comfort to his hammering heart. She searched his face, but had given him some privacy.
As the door to his study shut close behind her, it sealed him in silence.
His hands trembled along the dark green waxed crest that belonged to Silco’s family. A beautifully crafted S carved into it. Jayce set about opening the envelope with patience he didn’t have. As if it were Viktor’s skin, he touched it with reverence. He didn’t deserve any words from Viktor, he knew this. Yet, some pathetic part of him hoped it was Viktor’s handwriting.
As he opened the envelope, however, the scent that hits him stirred the alpha within him that had been dormant. Curling into his chest with a ferocity that woke the primal instinct in a scorching second.
Mate. Mate. Mate.
Like a chant in his head, the words echoed and bounced impatiently in the confines of his brain, a relentless thud he couldn’t silence.
Gifts well-received, Mr. Talis.
Viktor is glowing and sends his regards.
Respectfully,
Sky Young
The gifts—delicate night flowers wrought in metal, one for each day Viktor had been gone and that he will continue to send for every day of his absence—had arrived, as well as Sky being permanently with him now.
His breathing stutters. It wasn’t that they had been well received. Not at all. It was the glossy paper tucked behind the letter.
As Jayce stares at the thermal paper obviously scented by Viktor, his heart skips a beat at the tiny white blob in the center of what seems to be a sonogram.
Jayce’s vision had instantly blurred, the tiny blob only making his heart break harder. Drawing the paper close to his nose, he breathes it in like the starved man that he was, desperate for any scrap of knowledge of his mate. A picture of a life he couldn’t yet touch, proof that Viktor was carrying something that was inherently theirs.
It wasn’t enough to earn Viktor’s forgiveness. But it was definitely a start. More than he had gotten in months.
Jayce pressed the contents of the envelope to his chest and leaned back against the chair, eyes closing, desolate. So bittersweet.
The cruelest punishment is not potentially losing Viktor permanently, for that hadn’t yet happened—it was waking up everyday to the truth that he was still gone. It was already cruel, really, realizing that Jayce was part of Viktor’s ruin when in his heart, he only ever wanted to be his home.
One thought was clear…
Jayce would spend every breath left in him trying to earn his way back. Even if it took the rest of his life.
Notes:
ʚஐɞNext chapter, there will be a bit of tenseness, but it will melt into tooth rotting fluff (I am more into making characters suffer, go easy on me).
ʚஐɞI think it’s safe to say now that there are two-three chapters left. This story has probably been the most invested I’ve been in a fic in a good while. Thank you for the kudos, bookmarks, comments, and subs to this humble pie of mine. Y’all are amazing and it has helped improve my writing 🧡
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